[Fiction] The latest installment of Simon Rich's serialized novella, in which the pickler hero attracts attention in Williamsburg:
"I do not know his words but I sense I am starting to lose him. I decide it is good time to make pitch.
"'Whole Foods sells pickle jar for seven. I sell for four and include all the scum.'
"I point to the scum, which has collected nicely inside top of jar. The man smiles tightly as he hands me back the jar.
"'I’ll come back later,' he says.
"I sigh as he rides off on bicycle. It is almost seven and still I have no sales.
"'Pickles here!' I scream. 'Pickles with garlic and scum!'"
PUBLISHED: Jan. 31, 2013
LENGTH: 22 minutes (5525 words)
[Fiction] From Simon Rich's serialized novella for The New Yorker: A pickler strikes out on his own:
"Simon refills his coffee vat and smirks.
"'Who’s going to hire you? You’ve got no education, no experience, no skills.'
"'Simon,' Claire says. 'That’s rude.'
"'It’s not rude,' he says. 'It’s realistic. I mean, for God’s sake, Hersch, you barely even know how to speak English.'
"My face begins suddenly to burn. It is painful to hear my great-great-grandson say these things. I know I am not so clever. I did not go to kindergarten like a fancy man. But I have always worked my best. I am not as worthless as he says."
PUBLISHED: Jan. 30, 2013
LENGTH: 17 minutes (4383 words)
[Fiction] The first chapter of a serialized novella, about a pickle maker from the early 1900s who is transported to modern-day Brooklyn:
"The science men come and explain. I have been preserved in brine a hundred years and have not aged one day. They describe to me the reason (how this chemical mixed with that chemical, and so on and so on) but I am not paying attention. All I can think of is my beautiful Sarah. Years have passed and she is surely gone.
Soon, though, I have another thought. When I freeze in brine, Sarah was with child. Maybe I still have family in Brooklyn? Maybe our dreams have come true?
"The science man turns on computing box and types. I have one great-great-grandson still in Brooklyn, he says. By coincidence, he is twenty-seven years, just like me. His name is Simon Rich. I am so excited I can barely breathe. Maybe he is doctor, or even rabbi? I cannot wait to meet this man—to learn the ending of my family’s story."
"'How about Thai fusion?' Simon asks me, as we walk along the street where I once lived. 'This place has these amazing gluten-free ginger thingies.'"
PUBLISHED: Jan. 29, 2013
LENGTH: 20 minutes (5150 words)