No one writes a story like Lydia Davis. In the years since she began publishing her lyrical, extremely short fiction, she has quietly become one of the most impactful influences on American writers, even if they don't know it. That's largely because she makes economy seem so easy. You could read several of her stories into a friend's voicemail box before you were cut off (and you should). You could fit one of her stories in this column. Some you could write on your palm.

Bonsai won the Chilean Critics Award for best novel of the year in 2006and it's easy to understand why.

The impulse to tell the truth was not as great as the fear of being left off the page.

"How could you love something so destructive?" I ask. "Because this wolf doesn't care if your heart is whole or not," you say. "It tastes just the same."

Reading the [The Verso Book of Dissent] is like encountering the best version of our angry selves.

The quotes are often poignant or funny (one man before the firing squad requests a bulletproof vest) and often don't register as much more than interesting historical documents from centuries past. But read in aggregate, all that pain piles up. Essentially, Elder has amassed a collection of what people say when they know they are going to die, the final product of what could be seen as psychological torture.

I don't think my moped could outrun a cheetah.