John Vigna writes fearlessly in this collection of short stories. His characters are bruised and flawed and fascinating. They're angry and abusive, alcoholic and lonely, dealing with loss, obese, old, living out of their cars, surprising. A large man who dances. A widower who buys blue whale candies. An old rancher secretly obsessed with a pickup truck. These are not comfortable stories, nor are they happy. The characters are not heroes, nor do they try to be. They're just themselves.
Vigna uses description and dialogue to reveal place and character and how the two are intertwined. He shows complex relationships between brothers, exes, and strangers in a gradual, natural way. Nothing feels contrived or artificial. There were only a couple of places where I felt the description was a distracting barrage, though still evocative.
"Starlight and sagebrush on his tongue." Some of these stories will be stuck in my head for a long time.