Ordinary Affects tells stories of everyday happenings and practices, a collage of the mundane brought to life in brief tales told in the third person. Yet the text is other—more—than this. In one scene the book's protagonist is alone at a table in a café in a West Texas town and she—“I call myself ‘she’… as a point of contact”1—notices a biker couple entering. They limp. They sit, talking intently. As the solitary diner–writer leaves, she walks past their table and they ask her which way she is headed. If she's going the route they have just travelled—the west road—would she look out for bike parts? They hit a deer, they explain. Their...

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