Later, no, I would see that it was the Flatbush of New York City: a number of stories in Certain American States are set in the New York that I know and love, the New York of middling affluence, of hope and transition and internal errors, cosmetic scars that cannot dig deeply enough for permanent damage. Stories of relative hardships, of ennui unmoored from deadly consequences of aimlessness. No threat of survival within these certain American states, only danger to potential, to the lack of the stunning success that was promised, a failure to reach the "better off than your parents' generation" fealty to which we were sworn.

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