Fiction. Short Stories. The short story form is unambiguously un-dead in this new album of thirty fictions from Tim Conley, coming at the reader in a variety of shapes and guises running the gamut from elliptical micro-fictions to tales of the inexplicable.
Steeped in Beckett, Borges and Nabokov, Conley's multiple universes allow for werewolves that excite ridicule not fear, and where birthdays are an occasion for forgetting not remembering. Here, the world greets a new colouring book with the same seriousness as it might some newly discovered gospel, and struggles to embrace fictional celebrities with the same ardour it reserves for real ones. And why not a variant of origami that is used on the human form?
Tim Conley's collection of 30 short fiction pieces is a treat to read (best to read a few at a time), and a reminder that canadian literature doesn't have to be po-faced and historical or realistic and humdrum. Any fan of character, plot, setting, or beach reading won't find much to hold onto here. Those who like humour, grim conceits, a bit of daftness, and the willingness of a writer to explore what words can do are encouraged to pick up this collection. The main theme could be put this way: here is a writer having fun and communicating that to readers.
A much needed relief from all of the downer fiction that I have been reading lately. It’s nice to see an author who isn’t actively trying to traumatize his readers for clout in the twenty-first century.