Written for New Yorkers (and other people) who don't have time to read and don't like lugging around heavy books, Heather Holland Wheaton's Eight Million Stories in a New York Minute is a collection of uber-short stories printed in a book small enough to slip into a hip pocket without making an unsightly bulge.
Each story (less than 300 words) can be read independently while waiting on line at the deli, for the elevator to get to the lobby, and for the train to be moving shortly or the collection can be read as a whole with the tales turning into connected layers of fine New York dirt.
Either way, the stories are addictive.
Wheaton's jazzy writing playfully taps into the contemporary New York zeitgeist with wit and whimsy, but makes no apologies for poking fun at the city's squishy underbelly of obsessions, neurosis, and unattainable desires. In these keenly realized tales, we find security guards that secretly paint watercolors on duty, men that order Chinese food to their ex-girlfriend's apartments, and children that watch the rats in Central Park.