Sorry Please Thank You: Stories (Vintage Contemporaries)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
The author of the widely praised debut novel How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe returns with a hilarious, heartbreaking, and utterly original collection of short stories.
A big-box store employee is confronted by a zombie during the graveyard shift, a problem that pales in comparison to his inability to ask a coworker out on a date . . . A fighter leads his band of virtual warriors, thieves, and wizards across a deadly computer-generated landscape, but does he have what it takes to be a hero? . . . A company outsources grief for profit, its slogan: “Don’t feel like having a bad day? Let someone else have it for you.”
Drawing from both pop culture and science, Charles Yu is a brilliant observer of contemporary society, and in Sorry Please Thank You he fills his stories with equal parts laugh-out-loud humor and piercing insight into the human condition. He has already garnered comparisons to such masters as Kurt Vonnegut and Douglas Adams, and in this new collection we have resounding proof that he has arrived (via a wormhole in space-time) as a major new voice in American fiction.
while still remembering that someday I will lose it all, everything important, and unimportant? That everyone loses everything. Everything loses itself. What if I found out that in my real life, my Self, this Charles Yu person had never lost her, the woman? Why would he do this to me? Why would he daydream about the worst, the unimaginable? Why put me through that? Is it for fun? To satisfy his curiosity? What if he needs me? Needs me to complete him. One of us has something, the other one loses
side had followed us through. We needed our audience to be us. To be “us.” I went less often, and eventually stopped going altogether. At first she said people were wondering what had happened to me, but after a while she stopped talking about it, and I didn’t want to know. I assumed the story had changed. Or maybe she’d changed it. One morning she came back from over “there” just as the sun was rising. She slipped into the bathroom to take a shower. I heard her singing a song I didn’t
and we could never go back. “There it is,” she said, pointing to the place where our wall used to be. And the word “door” was back, hanging there like an airship, waiting to take us somewhere. It started to drift away, and Samantha reached out and grabbed on to the first “o” and pulled herself up, straddling the letter, the quotes like wings, keeping her in midair. She looked at me, waiting to see what I would do. I wanted to ask her if she wanted me to follow her, but I knew that was exactly
and you the reader? Or are you writing it and I’m reading it? If you think you are writing, do you feel like you know where it’s coming from? If you think you are reading, is this information you are learning, passively? Or do you feel like you could be creating it? Does it occur to you as a voice in your head? Your own voice in your own head? I feel, of course, that I am writing all of this, and it is all coming from me, but then again, how can I be sure? How can I be any more sure than you
other cars and all of the other drivers, except for the hero car and its driver, who has a smile of perfect self-satisfaction, and Murray realizes this is his chance to make a break for it, to escape Rick and The Brad™, and Murray, no spring chicken really in the winter of his days, nevertheless takes off running down the alley and sees a chain-link fence and he can’t remember the last time he did what he is about to do and, with an old-man sort of frog hop, Murray catches on to the fence and