It’s a big collection of her stories, old and new, as described glowingly in a recent New Yorker article. It prompted a visit to the library checkout counter.

How did I miss out on her all this time?  Who do I read that does short stories any better?

The first story in the newer stories section (“Brass”) begins with a portrayal of a family’s wayward son. It is exemplary of technique, and Williams has quite an arsenal of skill. In “Brass,” factoids are mixed into the narrative, a contrast of reality as opposed to the misguided opinions stated by the boy. The author’s punchlines are sharp, dark, and funny.  The ending of is a surprise with a shock effect. We find out who the boy character is supposed to be. Bam, a figure from recent national news. And we wonder how close to reality the author was in her depiction. Not that it matters. Crazy dangerous is crazy dangerous.

Williams can place characters inside a crucible in a story without us even noticing. Every story reveals her mastery of the form, and each has its own set of themes, mysteries, and nuance. Unlike many of today’s hailed and awarded stories that are too often mere cleverly phrased throwaways, Joy Williams’ collected stories are solid and meant to be re-visited and enjoyed over time.

Her writing is a reflection of our privilege to be cogent, alive visitors on Earth. Her book allows us the privilege to share in her observations, many of which are poetic and visionary. Let’s hope her work lands permanently in the study books for classes of American Literature: Modern Short Story.