by Catherine Lacey
from the April 22, 2019 issue of The New Yorker

Before she turned thirty Catherine Lacey’s debut novel, Nobody Is Ever Missing, was critically acclaimed and even made The New Yorker‘s best of 2014 list. She has been prolific since, publishing another novel (The Answers), a collection of short stories (Certain American States), and even an illustrated survey on the entangled relationships between many of our favorite writers (The Art of the Affair: An Illustrated History of Love, Sex, and Artistic Influence). I haven’t read any of her work yet (so I want to hear how it is if you have), and look forward to “Cut,” her first story to show up in The New Yorker.

She definitely has a provocative first paragraph:

There’s no good way to say it — Peggy woke up most mornings oddly sore, sore in the general region of her asshole. She felt an acute burn when she used the toilet, and found traces of blood in the crotch of her pajamas. Later — clots. This may be unpleasant to consider, may even be a bad place to begin, but if there were a nicer way to tell this story it wouldn’t be this story.

Lacey is particularly astute in her interview with David Wallace (here), so I am excited for the story as well as for your insights. Please feel welcome to share your thoughts below!

Liked it? Take a second to support The Mookse and the Gripes on Patreon!