Inside the Short Story Boudoir

[Illustration by Damon Wu]

a dual interview by the creators of this unique project

by Katy Gathright and Samantha Neugebauer


Short Story Boudoir is a new short story review channel on YouTube hosted by Washingtonians Katy Gathright and Samantha Neugebauer. The channel’s title comes from the original meaning of boudoir – “a room where a lady may retire to be alone or to receive her intimate friends" – which encapsulates their take on conversations about literature. The channel is a special place to be thoughtful and a little bit indulgent. During each episode, Katy and Samantha discuss a single short story while enjoying desserts from local favorites, such as Georgetown’s Baked and Wired or Baltimore’s Vaccaro's.

Now that they’re 15 episodes in, they wanted to talk about a different kind of story–their own! Here, they take a break from their normal episode “template” to interview each other about short stories, the D.C. literary community, and more. 


Samantha: I know I was there, but how would you describe the origins of Short Story Boudoir?

Katy: After graduating from the same fiction M.F.A. program at Johns Hopkins, we wanted to find ways to keep the momentum going, not just with our own writing, but also by creating opportunities to discuss stories together like we had in class.

While it's easy to find reviews of novels and short story collections online, it can be difficult to find a place to talk in-depth about a single story. We wanted to create a space where someone could read along with us and relive conversations they might have had in college or graduate school, or with their closest reading friends who might not live nearby. We both went to all-girls high schools—and so that lesser-known definition of boudoir really appealed to us. We’ve grown up in the tradition of deep analysis with friends! And it’s so nice to have a space to talk about stories, where the rest of the world can fall away a bit.

How do you think about it, Samantha?

Samantha:

Well, a few years ago at Tin House’s annual conference, the writer Jim Shepard gave a forty-minute close reading of Miranda July’s short story “The Shared Patio” that I still think about today, and that was certainly on my mind when we conceived of Short Story Boudoir. Nearly all the conference speakers were compelling, with many focusing on the concerns of the literary zeitgeist in some way, for instance by discussing the white gaze in fiction or processing trauma through fiction. Shepard’s lecture, however, took a different path. Without being in any way anachronistic, his talk focused on the nuts and bolts of storytelling itself, interrogating some of the specific moves and choices July made on the page—and on the line level—and their repercussions for the story and the reader experience. I wanted to have harder, more specialized conversations like that, ones that balance the technical processes of literature with the ideological or sociopolitical ones.

 

[Katy Gathright]

 

On that note, what do you think makes a good short story?

Katy: I like the element of surprise, most of all. This applies to novels too, but I think novels often have more pressure to have surprises in the plot, and in short stories the sequence of events is often shaggier, or nonexistent—and so other kinds of surprises can take center stage. For example: Jhumpa Lahiri, who won a Pulitzer in 2000 for her short story collection The Interpreter of Maladies, included a story in that collection called The Third and Final Continent.” It was one of the first stories we discussed on the show. Although it has a novelistic scope, spanning decades, it’s a quiet story without any twists or loud payoff. But I picture the narrator privately bursting into tears in wonder at himself, off-page, right after he finishes narrating. Self-wonder is so hard to get right without making a character insufferable! And I love feeling surprised at how attached I am to this narrator in the final paragraph, a feeling that entirely snuck up on me.

The Lahiri story is one example, but in general, what do you think makes a good short story for our show?

Samantha: Recently, I watched a short video showing this miniature washing machine toy from Japan. There were real bubbles and water and soiled thumbnail-sized plastic clothing, and a cute doll, and I thought briefly how I would have liked this toy when I was little. The truth is, then, as now, I’ve always preferred imaginative play over instructional or structural play; I’d pick creating a Polly Pocket village—maybe one that is missing its ruler or suffering from a plague—over building a LEGO model from a manual or completing a puzzle.

So, for me, the best stories for discussion leave room for imaginative play (à la Keats’s Negative Capability), while at the same time, capturing a specific milieu or way of thinking or form that is new or intriguing. I love a time jump; I love an ambitious metaphor; I love odd, yet seemingly intentional, syntax; and I love dialogue that gets to the point, then goes in a new direction. It’s the same with film and theater, really, it’s that walk home after a show I crave—a little bit of argument, a little bit of agreement, some disbelief, some unknowns, some city noises around us.

Katy: I grew up in the D.C. suburbs and have lived in the city for the past 12 years. D.C. is a city of readers: my library holds are a competitive sport, Kramers is shoulder-to-shoulder on the weekends, and most people I meet have a book to recommend. Maybe—if I can conjecture wildly—it’s because D.C. is a city based on different or opposing perspectives. Not just in terms of political parties, but also as a result of so many international residents, not to mention the fact that there are more Black residents than white. The best literature always has a purposeful point of view.

 

[Samantha Neugebauer]

 

What about you, Samantha, as someone new to D.C.?

Samantha: D.C. is a great walking city, especially in leafy neighborhoods like ours, and like many writers and readers before me, I believe walking is fundamental to clear thinking and creativity. During my time at Hopkins, I lived in Baltimore, and for a handful of reasons, there was only one sensible way to walk to campus from my apartment, and I know  that limited path affected me creatively. Physical movement is generative. I once came across a quote from Richard Serra about Jackson Pollock: “He had to have remarkable faith that the process would lead to fully realized statements. After all, he didn’t know where he would end up when he started.” That idea of not knowing exactly where you’re headed, but trusting the movement, feels related to thinking and walking, too, especially in a place like D.C. with so many free museums and other attractions.

Maybe a couple of lightning round questions? Katy, what is a favorite short story of yours?

Katy: I love “Safari” by Jennifer Egan. I just realized she is also a Pulitzer winner, but I promise I don’t only shout out the award-winning writers! She always manages to make a premise that’s “high concept” feel full of heart. “Safari” is both a standalone story and part of her novel-in-stories, A Visit From the Goon Squad. I’ve always suffered from intense nostalgia—this story speaks to that directly, while also being funny and surprisingly matter-of-fact.

What about you—is there a story you think about more than others?

Samantha: My thoughts often wander to Lorrie Moore’s short story “Willing,” from her 1998 story collection, Birds of America. Moore is an American fiction writer, critic, and essayist, whose voice is known for its caustic edge. I first read “Willing”  in college, and as a young adult, it hit me as a ghastly fable about what artistic failure might look like. Nowadays, it's more than just that. While its themes remain  contemporary, it’s also a time capsule of an acerbic, self-defeating, blame-struck character type that seems to have largely vanished from letters. The narrator also reminds me of how people spoke in my childhood. I often say literature is an archive of what it feels like to be human, but Moore reminds me that it’s also an archive of what it sounds like to be human. For example, on the first page, we hear  “Christ,”a mutter from the recent past that has gone the way of the Dodo bird. 

On the show, we occasionally feature guest hosts. Who would be your dream guest?

Katy: Sarah Jessica Parker—one of the most interesting self-avowed readers! I’d love to ask her more about her imprint and how she thinks about character as a reader, publisher, and an actor.

And who would be your dream guest?

Samantha: Bernie Sanders. Maybe we could trouble him next time he’s in town—we’ll pick a story that touches on the class war going on here.

And last but not least, since every episode features a local dessert, what is your favorite dessert?

Katy: Right now, it’s the labneh soft serve from Yellow. We’ll have to find a way to get it on our show without melting while we talk!

How about your favorite?

Samantha: For some years, I worked in Greece every January, and the St. George Lycabettus Hotel in Athens served a powdered Cretan pastry called Kalitsounia—if anyone knows of a good one in D.C., please let us know! In the meantime, I adore the mille-feuille from Boulangerie Christophe. Delicious.


Folks can join Katy and Samantha for new episodes by subscribing for free on YouTube and to their monthly newsletter.

Katy Gathright is a writer and a marketing director. She has been published in The New York Times, The Hopkins Review, and elsewhere. To learn more, visit: katygathright.co.

Samantha Neugebauer is a lecturer at N.Y.U.’s D.C. campus and a senior editor for the literary magazine Painted Bride Quarterly. To learn more, visit: samanthaneugebauer.com.