Frank Kovarik compressed 10 years of New Yorker fiction into stats on who gets published and how often. This insight rings true:

The magazine’s showcasing of short fiction helps support the genre itself and, for me at least, increases the pleasures of that genre. I find that I enjoy an Alice Munro story (or one by George Saunders or Steven Millhauser or Louise Erdrich) more when it stands alone in a magazine, framed like a work of art in a museum, instead of collected in a book with ten or twelve others, or even, sometimes, as part of a novel.

The absence of fiction in the Atlantic makes sense financially, even editorially. I still miss it, even when I rarely read it. It tells me, even as I am mired in prose, that there is also music and that this is understood by the editors whose work I am enjoying. Still, the poetry makes up for so much ....

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