Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned
Wells Tower
I’ve been meaning to read the improbably named Wells Towers’ debut collection, Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned, for a while now, but having knocked over the first two stories last night I’m now sorry I waited so long. The thing’s a joy: smart, muscular without being showy and brilliantly observed. It’s also very, very funny, as these three quotes from the first few pages of the first story, ‘The Brown Coast’, demonstrate:
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“Not long after the affair had run its course, Bob and his wife were driving into town when Vicky looked up and saw the phantom outline of a woman’s footprint on the windshield over the glovebox. She slipped her sandal off, saw that the print did not match her own, and told Bob that he was no longer welcome in their home.”
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“Above the kitchen sink was a painting of a beer can with Randall’s signature in the bottom right hand corner. Randall has done a good job with the Budweiser script, but he’d had to stretch out the can’s midsection to accommodate all the letters, so it bulged in the middle, like a snake swallowing a rat.”
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“By the window, a woman was sitting in a recliner and sucking on a cigarette. She was pretty, but she’d spent too much time in the sun. She was pruned over and nearly maroon, like a turkey beard.”
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Like I said, the thing’s a joy. You can buy it from Readings, The Book Depository, or Amazon
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city of tongues 