Jessica is a wonderful writer of short stories who
has wowed me with her three collections so far.
Meat Eaters & Plant Eaters BOA Editions Ltd., 2009
Not A Chance Fiction Collective Two / Black Ice Books, 2000
A Robber in the House Coffee House Press, 1993
An Intricate Weave: Women Write About Girls and Girlhood, Iris Editions, 1997
Includes: Violin Lessons.
Chick-Lit 2, Fiction Collective Two, 1996
Word of Mouth, Volume II, Crossing Press, 1991
Includes: Gunshot, Home,
Word of Mouth: 150 Short-Short Stories, Crossing Press, 1990
Includes: Weekdays, Session, Sister, Watch,
Various Gifts: Brooklyn Fiction of the 1980s, The Fund for the Borough of Brooklyn, 1988
Includes: There Was a Woman...
Her recommended reading
Jessica’s comments about flash fiction (from: http://doubleroomjournal.com/issue_four/Jessica_Treat.html)
I write prose poems and short-short fiction. I dislike the term “flash fiction.” I think of flashers, a flash of lightning, a flash in the pan, in the dark, in the night. It feels short-lived, instant, striking perhaps but not enduring. I am more comfortable with the idea of a story. If we must distinguish it by length—novel, novella, short story, short-short story—so be it. I have always been more comfortable with the shorter forms of fiction. Even my novella, “Honda,” published in my second book of stories, is told in 12 “short-short” chapters. My stories—whatever their length—are concerned with narrative, with a narrative voice that pulls you in and along. Image, language, the associative process are what carry my prose poems. Yes there is a story (I can’t seem to avoid it—nor do I want to), but it is not what is most prominent. I am in love with the sentence. A good sentence pulls others along behind it, a rhythmic force—at least that is how it works for me. Sometimes I rhyme quite unconsciously-- if it is too obvious I must change it. I like what Charlotte Wright said in her 1995 review in Studies in Short Fiction of my collection, Barry Silesky’s and Kenneth Koch’s: “Short-shorts are not just underdeveloped or midget stories. They are not just fragments, shards, slivers, pieces, bits, splinters, scraps, etc. My objection to these words as descriptors is that they all suggest a deficiency of some sort, and a short-short is no more an incomplete short story that a short story is an incomplete novel.”