Machado’s book of short stories was recommended to me by an aspiring author specifically for the wordsmithing craft in The Husband Stitch and Inventory, and then I read the rest of the stories so that I could finish out the book. Although there were certainly moments of writing that I enjoyed very much (the description of the dream kitchen in Mothers is an extremely notably example) I found that overall I don’t think these short stories are worth reading. Half of these stories are overtly about rape, which makes them painful to consume (see e.g., The Husband Stitch, Especially Heinous, Difficult At Parties, parts of Inventory). The endings of Machado’s works often left me unsatisfied (The Resident, for example, turns and directly addresses the reader at the end apparently from the first person perspective of Machado herself, who seems to be hoping you’ll indulge her failures). The entire corpus (pun intended) feels navel-gazing at best, masturbatory and/or therapy-seeking at the lowest moments. It may very well contain great prose, but I won’t put it on my recommendation list.