The Outlaw Album: Stories
Daniel Woodrell
Language: English
Pages: 176
ISBN: 0316057568
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Twelve timeless Ozarkian tales of those on the fringes of society, by a "stunningly original" (Associated Press) American master.
Daniel Woodrell is able to lend uncanny logic to harsh, even criminal behavior in this wrenching collection of stories. Desperation-both material and psychological--motivates his characters. A husband cruelly avenges the killing of his wife's pet; an injured rapist is cared for by a young girl, until she reaches her breaking point; a disturbed veteran of Iraq is murdered for his erratic behavior; an outsider's house is set on fire by an angry neighbor.
There is also the tenderness and loyalty of the vulnerable in these stories--between spouses, parents and children, siblings, and comrades in arms-which brings the troubled, sorely tested cast of characters to vivid, relatable life. And, as ever, "the music coming from Woodrell's banjo cannot be confused with the sounds of any other writer" (Donald Harington, Atlanta Journal Constitution).
at permissions@hbgusa.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights. And I am learning not to separate these beings charged with violence from the sky in which their desires revolve. —Albert Camus, “Summer in Algiers” The Echo of Neighborly Bones Once Boshell finally killed his neighbor he couldn’t seem to quit killing him. He killed him again whenever he felt unloved or blue or simply had empty hours facing him. The first time he killed the man, Jepperson, an
plus, instead of a sign that you were going to be a bum someday, was exciting to be around. You could get into long, passionate discussions about all kinds of writers and writing, and there just are not that many places like that. So it was really to my benefit to have been there, even if there were aspects that drove me crazy. I was struck by a quote from one of your previous interviews, where you said, “When I got to graduate school in Iowa, I didn’t get it. People would say things, and where
daily that whole summer of my twelfth year, me awaking to see her with the dawn at her back, springs squeaking faintly, while a bone-handled brush slid along a length of hair that belonged in a fairy tale of some sort, and maybe not the happy kind. Her name was Alma and she did not care to be called Grandma or Mamaw, and might loose a slap if addressed as Granny. She was lonely, old and proud, and I’d been sent from my river town near St. Louis by my dad as a gesture of reconciliation. She was
with, he teases out and displays their deep stores of love and loyalty, and a surprisingly bracing humor.” —Kate Tuttle, Boston Globe “The first and most important task of any piece of writing is to draw the reader in, to engage them and compel them to keep going. On that count, and on pretty much every other one, Woodrell succeeds. The Outlaw Album shows his complete mastery of voice, tone, language, and pacing.… It’s an amazing collection.” —Jeff Baker, Oregonian “Set in the small towns
his eyes appeared to find it to be kind of funny business, having a hatchet in his chest. “Glad you like it.” Boshell left the blade in the man’s chest, then dragged the corpse to his truck. He tossed a tarp over the raised handle and all, but knew he wouldn’t likely run into anybody, not where he was going. He steered the truck downhill going west, onto a creek bed with shallow puddles but no flow, and eased south over the pale and reddish rocks, the truck bucking during the rougher patches.