<p><em>The World is Neither Stacked for Nor Against You</em> is a book of disparate parts, a sort of Frankenstein monster of a collection. And indeed, there is a monster story, as well as a ghost story, an angel story, a mystical religious story, and a mystical secular story. Some of the work is experimental, some of it is outlandish, and some of it is as simple and comforting as a home-baked pie. Its stories are made of gypsum, bituminous coal, red bricks and whimsy. They are equal parts crassitude and chimera. The final one, "Publisher," the book's longest, concerns a man working for a vanity press who discovers "the real thing," a novel he is convinced will blast a hole in the complacency of modern literature. About "Publisher," John Grisham said, "It's not only funny and clever, it reminded me of the first 80 pages of <em>Sophie's Choice</em>. Great work." The stories have previously appeared in <em>The Pinch, Orchid, Ghoti, Gargoyle</em> and other fine periodicals, as well as story collections published by a handful of sincere, frabjous, small presses. </p><p><br></p><p><br></p>
