From the opening lines of Saša Stanišić’s Before the Feast, the reader sits as if at the feet of the novel’s storytelling narrator, the first person plural collective voice of a village.

The inherent intimacy of the perspective is one way Nagamatsu infuses the otherworldly with the relatable.

Infused with an element of the fantastical, many of the stories, initially appearing straightforward and grounded in reality, veer off into unexpected, outlandish territory, and, more often than not, characters are not what they seem.

Nowhere is the tension between the “gift” and “test” of West Virginia more deftly drawn than Corcoran’s exploration of the lives of gay characters.

Jarrar’s characters are Muslims, mainly women, usually not living their lives in lockstep with the Quran, but feeling grounded in their religion and culture and home nonetheless.

Valente writes with the ear of a poet and the inquisitive instinct of a journalist.

Steven Dunn’s award-winning debut novel is a formally innovative, sonically distinctive work of art that offers its readers a rare glimpse into the lives of poor African Americans in West Virginia, where the novel’s narrator grows up.

I was surprised to find that some of the stories in his most recent collection, A Collapse of Horses, really are quite funny, and funny in an unusual way.

The characters struggle against Natalia’s death as a leap into nothingness—the complete physical destruction of a person.

In many ways, the effects in short fictions are not unlike those found in quantum physics: they become significant because of their small scope. The heightened effects are similar to those found in poetry.