‘Clear Skies, No Wind, 100% Visibility’ by Théodora Armstrong

Reviewed by Thomas Trofimuk

This is an exciting new writer. And this is, of course, an unfair statement. Ms. Armstrong has probably been honing her craft, watching the world, scratching the world with her stories, shoving stories into the hands of friends, lovers, professors – and publishing in the literary magazines for many years. She is not a “new” writer. Her practice of writing shines through in every single one of these fine stories. This is her debut collection – her stories gathered together into a really fine book. Let me start again. Théodora Armstrong is an exceptionally talented, exciting writer and this volume of stories proves it at every turn. The stories in her first collection, titled Clear Skies, No Wind, 100% Visibility are lean explorations of loss, missed connection and misdirection. The stories resonate and connect at every turn. They are paced perfectly.

There are readers who don’t like loose ends. They like to travel from point A to point B, and point B to point C and then there must be a conclusion and finally a denouement. These readers might struggle at times inside this collection. I am not one of those readers. I like it that there might be more questions at the end of a story than I had at the beginning. Sometimes a haunting suspicion can “be” the story. Armstrong is sometimes that kind of writer. Like in “Rabbit,” where a bunch of loose-ends and unresolved fragments add up to a haunting, unforgettable story. It’s a pretty powerful first story.

There are little moments in Armstrong’s writing that impress, apart from the pacing. These moments occur in every one of her stories. Look at this stunning bit of character building in “The Art of Eating”:

“Who?” Susan says, glancing up briefly before going back to her work on her computer. There’s an ugly bruise around her left eye, the lid swollen and red.

“What happened to your face?” He knows the answer to the question; she’s been fighting with her wife for weeks.

“Oh,” Susan waves his words away while scanning her computer screen. She types the way she eats—efficient as a robot. If he lingers in the office long enough, Charlie knows he’ll get the full story. There’s a curiosity nagging at him, but he’s not sure he cares enough to go through what has the potential to be an hour-long introspection. The staff have been getting regular updates on the abuse Susan suffers at the hands of her wife. She’ll come to work visibly upset, tightlipped, begging everyone to leave her alone, but by the end of the night the entire story will have trickled out and suddenly you’re standing in a puddle of her gloom.

Another example comes in “Clear Skies, No Wind, 100% Visibility,” when the main character is observing his wife. I wish to hell I’d written this:

“You’re so tired all the time.”

“Too much sleep.” There’s a note of hopelessness in her voice, something I’ve heard before. Lately answers have been different between us, a slight shift, enough tilt to make a pencil roll off a tabletop.

In “Fishtail,” a heartbreaking story of the disintegration of things, a father remembers the look of complete and utter trust in his daughter’s eyes as their car fishtails on a snowy road. This single memory placed against the complexity and breakdown of the present made the story devastating.

They say writing a novel is akin to being a long-distance runner. If that’s true, then a great writer of short stories would be like a sprinter – the 100 metre, or the hurdles. Well, Armstrong is not only very good at the sprints; she’s captured the middle distance as well. Many of the stories in this collection are longish – longer than your average short story. Armstrong stretches out and there’s not a wasted phrase. There’s nothing superfluous. “The Art of Eating” weighs in at 56 pages. The titular story “Clear Skies, No Wind, 100% Visibility” is 38 pages. And the final story, “Mosquito Creek,” is a whopping 86 pages – that’s getting into the range of a good little novella.

This collection could easily have been called “Mosquito Creek,” because this is the stand-out for me. It’s a drug-addled rollercoaster ride through a sort of teenage hell – quite possibly the strangest love story I’ve ever read – and one of the saddest. It’s been days since I put this book down, days since I finished reading “Mosquito Creek,” and the characters from this story are still milling about in the back of my mind. It’s a fascinating character study. Especially because it’s the story underneath the story that is utterly heartbreaking.

There isn’t a weak story in the bunch. Armstrong creates complex, multi-layered stories that vibrate with characters to whom you want to listen, or follow, or observe. And while her subject matter is often dark, there is a lightness in her prose that is so fine.   You want to go along for the ride – right to the end. I do not know what more any reader can ask of a writer. Highly recommended.

Astoria | 376 pages |  $22.95 | paper | ISBN # 978-1770891029