Lately, time seems to have taken on an amusing eternal quality. Outer-space time, quick-and-never; a slow wheeling of which Melinda, moving at whatever speed, is more and more aware she has been accorded the briefest, briefest slice. She finds herself now moonwalking through the strange region of not young, not a mother, not married, unlikely to marry. She will have to work until she dies. She will have good friends who'll keep an eye on her, of course; some of them women much like her. She will float toward and finally past the margins of sexual viability and never have enough money for a facelift. In Boys Keep Being Born, Joan Frank's subject matter and style are stark - to some, perhaps, shocking. Her collection of stories explores the reverberant mystery of men and women's interactions, touching deeply on those breathtaking, gut-wrenching moments that each of us knows too well, leaving readers dizzy with anticipation, eagerly waiting for more.