The New Yorker’s "20 Under 40" fiction issue

It is a refreshing change of pace to swap 700-page doorstops for the surgical precision of a short story. As I’ve embarked on a mission to read 100 short stories, I decided to start with a heavy-hitter: The New Yorker’s "20 Under 40" fiction issue.

Specifically, I dove into two pieces that couldn't be more different in execution, yet both manage to bruise the reader emotionally in record time: "The Pilot" by Joshua Ferris and "Here We Aren’t, So Quickly" by Jonathan Safran Foer.

1. The Spiral of the Modern Creative: "The Pilot"

In "The Pilot," Joshua Ferris introduces us to Lawrence Himshell, a screenwriter and recovering alcoholic who feels like he’s perpetually "on the verge." He’s living in a cramped apartment, taking unglamorous commercial gigs, and obsessing over an ambiguous, blind-copied party invite from an old flame.

The story is a masterclass in the existential RSVP crisis. Ferris captures that specific brand of neuroticism where a simple email leads to a total ego collapse. Is Lawrence actually invited? Does anyone remember his former glory?

Why It Works

Ferris doesn't hold your hand. He lets you sit in Lawrence’s discomfort. When Lawrence finally attends the party and succumbs to "just one drink," the story takes a turn that is both tragic and strangely hopeful. Even as his physical work—his manuscript—literally burns, there is a sense of renewal.

If you enjoy Ferris’s ability to find the biting, dry humor in the mundane, you should check out his acclaimed office-culture novel, Then We Came to the End.

2. A Lifetime in a Breath: "Here We Aren’t, So Quickly"

Turning from the narrative realism of Ferris to the experimental prose of Jonathan Safran Foer is a bit like switching from a play to a symphony. "Here We Aren’t, So Quickly" is a monologue of a marriage, compressed into short, sharp, often contradictory statements.

"I was not good at drawing faces. I was just joking most of the time. I was not decisive in changing rooms or anywhere... I was not as tired as I said."

The Style

The story reads like a stream of consciousness. It’s a love letter full of crossed-out lines and half-sincere apologies. Foer eschews traditional dialogue for a rhythm that feels almost musical—or like someone praying out loud.

While the style is polarizing—it flirts with being "too much"—at this length, it is incredibly effective. It captures the way we build a life out of tiny truths and small lies. It reminded me of the emotional density found in his debut, Everything is Illuminated.

Final Reflections

These two authors represent two wildly different ways of seeing the world.

• Joshua Ferris builds characters through their messes and insecurities, making them feel utterly believable.

• Jonathan Safran Foer plays with form and structure to evoke a deep, visceral sentimentality.

Both left me wondering: do they maintain this intensity when they stretch out into 300+ pages? If you want to find out for yourself, I highly recommend picking up the works that put them on the map.

What’s Next?

Two stories down, ninety-eight to go. This challenge is all about discovering voices I might have otherwise missed. Next, I’ll be cracking open the next pair of stories from this same New Yorker edition to see if the remaining "20 under 40" writers can keep up the pace.

Have you read Ferris or Foer? Or do you have a "must-read" short story for my list? Let me know in the comments below!