There’s a new new Murakami story in this week’s New Yorker. A T.C. Boyle piece appeared in the magazine last week.
Given the generally banal short fiction featured in The New Yorker over the last six months or so, I’ve started ignoring my subscription. I hand each issue over to Mr. Maud and don’t bother to look for it again. For Boyle and Murakami, I’ll have to make an exception.