When lesser story collections fall short of their mark, I somehow blame the form rather than the writer or subject. Somehow, novels remain fiction’s standard-bearer. Like many readers, I approach short stories with skepticism. Short stories require tactical effort to bridge brevity with emotional impact. Novels can take the time to move more slowly with actions and words accumulating over chapters. Throughout the book, it’s these sustained beats, reverberating with gravity, that give the book texture and depth. Different backgrounds, different parenting styles, the same ennui: adolescence is a period of ceaseless misunderstandings. Two friends - one white, Kiera one Black, Ava - are bonded to one another through a shared feeling of drowning. The collection’s titular opening story could, at first, feel like a tale too often told.

It’s their lot to define and then articulate the indescribable emptiness and lack that accompanies the burden of survival. Throughout the book, they endure and absorb the losses of those around them. Her blistering range is evident in the 11 stories of her stunning debut collection, “ Milk Blood Heat,” all of which are set in the Sunshine State. A resident of northern Florida, Moniz is an achingly insightful and soulful writer who deserves more than that. Moniz deserves more than the easy weather metaphors that come to mind. Although her stories are as emotionally gutting as the wake of a hurricane, Dantiel W.

Milk blood heat review