As the old adage goes, "if you can't say it in a few pages, you won't in a hundred." The selections in Cold Flashes— very short prose and black-and-white photographs—embody perfectly this transparency, thrift, and restraint. Found here are highly polished micro-narratives, both fiction and nonfiction, and a series of eloquent and artistic halftones that capture their sizeable subjects in a nutshell. By minimizing the exposition, the selections stimulate the imagination to reflect on the rich diversity of people and places that make up Alaska. To be savored piecemeal at coffee shops, on the bus, or while waiting in line, the images and text in Cold Flashes will resonate with both the reader and each other, fusing into something profound yet elusive.
Flash fiction, flash memoirs, flash essays (450 words max), paired with black & white photography. The prose pieces range from tragedy to slapstick, and the photos are never touristy. Clever pairings and sequences are evidence the editor had a lot of fun. Some unevenness is due to the occasional "You haven't experienced the real Alaska unless you've _____ed with a _____ in _____tuvik, in winter." And the production values, those of a literary quarterly, don't do justice to the photography. But these are quibbles -- this collection is well worth a look for anyone interested in the 49th state.