Wilson Koewing is a writer from South Carolina. His work has appeared in Wigleaf, Hobart, Maudlin House, X-R-A-Y, New World Writing, Pembroke Magazine, Gargoyle, The Journal of Compressed Creative Arts and many others. His essay "Woodstown" was named a notable American essay of 2020 by Best American Essays. His debut short story collection JADED is available from Mint Hill Books/Main Street Rag Press. His chapbook SHRINK WRAPS AND ODDITIES is available from Bottlecap Press. His full length hybrid collection QUASI is forthcoming from Anxiety Press. He lives in San Anselmo, California.
In the last year, I’ve become a fan of Wilson Koewing’s short fiction, so when I heard that he had a new short story anthology coming out January 14th, I had to get my hands on it. In Rolling on the Bottom, published by Cowboy Jamboree Press (released January 14th) , each of the nineteen stories is filled with small, human moments, often sad, that allow Koewing to fit a character’s entire life into so few pages. In “In a Flash,” a man and woman meet, fall in love, get married, build careers, get pregnant, raise kids, watch the kids leave home, retire, and die, all in five pages. It doesn’t feel rushed, either, and I was surprised how much I cared about the characters, Valerie and Alphonse. “Big E” is another standout, a tale about a guy who tries his hand at almost everything, searching for peace. The prose is tight, the dialogue sparse, yet the irony is powerful. Here’s a snippet:
‘Big E was always good at baseball. Coach pitch. Machine pitch. Little league. JV. Varsity. He excelled. But when graduation came no scholarship materialized, so he stopped playing. That ruined baseball for him.’
These stories are about life not working out, about being cheated on, or experiencing random violence. The characters lean on booze and sex to fill voids, and they don’t always know that they’re killing themselves. But sometimes they do. Sometimes they know they’re doing the wrong things, and they change, while other times they keep on living the same way right up until the end. In “Painkiller,” a man wakes up in the hospital to discover his entire family’s been killed. This one has John Wick vibes, as the man investigates their murder. The settings range, but New Orleans and Denver feature prominently. It’s a packed street during Mardi Gras, or a dog park with the mountains hovering in the distance. There are also seedy dive bars, restaurants, the zoo, the beach, and all those tiny cracks in-between. But it’s not all darkness, and Koewing’s adept at writing beautiful moments, too:
‘The sunset was electric over the valley Denver rested in. Jet trails sliced the deep blue sky like fingernails from the other side. The air was brisk, and wind gusts sent leaves swirling down from branches.’
Ultimately, that’s what I take away from Koewing’s work; he has a knack for describing the distances between people, the gaps that we all feel, and in the end, that’s what life is, people searching for deep connections to get us through the day.
This book hits hard and hits fast - quick jabs that pop you in the face and never let up. Some of these stories made me feel sick, others made me sad, and a rare few made me smile, too. But however they moved me, they were all GOOD. These aren't pleasant stories, but they are mighty pleasant to read.
This is the second Koewing book I have read, having also read Quasi, and it's hard to say which one I enjoyed more. But together, Koewing's books have shown me the versatility of his stories - both in mood and substance - and his mastery of evoking emotions (the whole bloody spectrum of them!).