Fiction. "The seductive beauty of these subtle, troubling fictions reflect their author's dreamy, voice-drenched visions of underdog lives," writes Al Young, who selected THORN as the winner of the G.S. Sharat Chandra Prize for Short fiction, in his foreword to this lush collection of short stories by Evan Morgan Williams. These stories portray hardships of characters who come from a variety of backgrounds, especially Native Americans and others from the Pacific Coast. With his vivid descriptions of these characters and their experiences, Williams explores their psyches and personal struggles, but common themes tie these stories together in ways that invite readers to see their own struggles and relationships in new ways.
Evan Morgan Williams has published over forty stories in literary magazines including Witness, Kenyon Review, ZYZZYVA, Antioch Review, Alaska Quarterly Review, and Northwest Review.
A collection of his stories,"Thorn," won the Chandra Prize at BkMk Press (University of Missouri-Kansas City) and was published as a book in 2014. The book was longlisted for the Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award. Additionally, the book won a gold medal in the IPPY award series.
The book is available online at Small Press Distribution, the publisher (BkMk Press), or Amazon. The book may also be purchased directly from the author at a secure Square page, with free postage.
This was a wonderful collection of short stories. Such a vibrant range of characters - sometimes unexpected, always believable. Williams has an acute ear for "voice" that comes through, laser sharp. These stories are rich and engaging. Not always comfortable, as we are led through some of the deeper shadows of the characters' lives. But there is an integrity to even the the most raw of tales, that keeps the reader right there on the page, wondering what is going to happen next to these characters that take on the sense of being flesh-and-blood real in the world.
"Thorn" is an impressive collection of short stories. Evan Morgan Williams creates fifteen intimate portraits of characters who are so distinct, so damaged and so different from each other that you might think a collection this diverse would lack cohesion. But you’d be wrong. Williams crawls inside his creations and shows us how universal the personal really is. The stories all take place in the West, many of them centered along the Pacific Coast. A sense of place plays a critical roll in all of these stories; and the way the characters define themselves in relation to where they are (and where they are going) is just one of the thematic threads that ties this collection together. The vivid details, the evocative imagery and the achingly beautiful, sorrowful tones of these stories reveal Williams as a talented craftsman who has truly found his voice.
Imagine a writer whose words are delivered with the precision of a surgeon’s incision, the muffled staccato of an Olympic Peninsula squall on a moss-covered roof and the arresting, unfiltered honesty of a 7-11 security camera at three in the morning. Like many of Williams’ readers, after the first couple stories in this significant collection, I was simultaneously anxious and loath to read another. So I did.
Not like a rubbernecker slowing to gawk at a car wreck, not like a couch potato watching toothless drunks in wife-beaters tussle on COPS, but like a city kid who opens his eyes after a 12-hour car ride into the wide open spaces of the West and sees stars for the first time when his parents pull over to smoke some more meth. Ultimate beauty; usually associated with Nature (yes, with a capital N) or human bravery, yearning and resilience (or its less sexy cousin, persistence); juxtaposed with the embarrassing smudges we humans leave behind wherever we go.
Life is life and you have to see it all and accept it all if you want to claim to love it or even condone it. I don’t know if Mr. Williams believes in God or a god but neither one shows his or her face in these stories, much like life. Handiwork? Yes. Strange, brutal, wondrous creatures made in his image? Yes. No intervention, however, or answered prayers. And yet he’s not a nihilist. He’s neither preachy nor amoral. He’s not, I’ll bet good money, an atheist because that, like fundamentalism, requires certainty beyond our capability.
He is your travel guide to this life, especially life in the West. Morrison was right, you know, and Williams captures why in this visceral mural painted with blood and semen and snot and paint and crayons and nail polish and charcoal, like one of good ol’ Cobain’s pieces.
Reading Thorn connects you to an ancient internet of truth, peels back the cataracts, flips off the glaring city lights, and ushers you into a time machine destined for the moment folks read Hemingway’s short stories for the first time. Thorn is a rare gift that will stand the test of time.
Opening with a powerful story of a woman who quits fighting and her children who will survive, “The Great Black Shape in the Water” sets the tone for this book of short stories. Themes of family, yearning, adolescence, and betrayal dominate this collection of twelve stories set in the American West. The first story, which opens with a fantastic tale of a struggle between a beached whale and the big hips and biceps of a Quilhwa mother, takes place in a native fishing and logging community somewhere on the Olympic Peninsula.
In the collection, the characters travel –- riding in a purple “girl truck” through Montana at the end of fire season; sneaking onto an Indian reservation for a secret teenage rendezvous; steering a motorboat to a dead-end hostess job at a marina restaurant at an Idaho resort; day-tripping into another native coastal community, this time by a rich white couple looking to buy a whale skeleton for their McMansion foyer; bumping along with a blue-eyed daughter in a pickup going sixty-five headed for a Colorado penitentiary; swimming offshore, following your dream girl too far from a cold and rocky beach; and, in the final story, coasting down a mountain ridge in your dad’s black limousine after getting stuck on the top with a teenage girl.
The stories’ language evokes the West– gray, rocky coastlines, pear orchards, myrtlewood stumps, an obsidian egg. For anyone that’s spent time in the Northwest, Williams’ landscapes will be familiar. Some of the scenes reminded me of David Guterson, especially his novel of fruit-pickers in Eastern Washington – East of the Mountains.
The characters’ dialogue is minimal and realistic and Williams writes with a pathos and respect for all, the brainwashed hippie chicks, the suffering mothers, and the teenage boys who won’t ever get the girl they dreamt of. There is sadness and yearning here that match the grey open spaces we live in. This is an excellent first collection.
Evan Williams has been likened to a poet and with good reason: he crafts sentences so lyrical they sing like a prose poem. Yet his work leaves room to breath, to appreciate the rhythms. Like desire on a lazy Sunday morning, he slows the words down. Words that embody the feminine with uncanny sensitivity and insight. While showing an affinity for Native American culture, he deftly explores the intricacies of other cultures with humanity and respect as well. Stories that blur the boundaries of love, relationships and social mores. Sometimes startling, but in ways that make you think about our shared understandings of love and the limits of sanity. In his storytelling we also learn powerful lessons in acceptance and what it means to care for someone, flawed and vulnerable. Yet these are not only tales of conquerors and vanquished, of bargains that must be kept, sacrifices made, they are also tales of the compromises of spirit. For women . . . and men. With compassion and grace, he teaches us what it means to take care with each other.
This collection of short stories sent to me to consider for the Nye Beach Writers Series is different from any other I have read. Williams, a white man from the Northwest, has managed to get inside the heads of boys, girls, Native Americans, African-Americans, Asians, and others in stories that are intense, unusual, and memorable. They take place anywhere from the 1950s to the present with startling accuracy. We read about the woman who lifted the whale, the teen who has taken a vow of chastity swimming naked on graduation night, the WWII veteran who has the dream life but it isn’t enough. Great stories. I look forward to reading more.
I listened to the author read a powerful story from this group of short stories in Eugene, Oregon. I mostly liked the rest. They are not "happy" stories, but some of them leave you breathless.