Brian Evenson is an award-winning novelist and short story writer (Fugue State; The Wavering Knife) who has fallen between the cracks, so to speak. Horror, fantasy and science fiction readers all like to claim him as one of theirs, but Evenson is one of those writers who likes to blur the distinctions between genres. In the 25 stories collected in Windeye, Evenson shows himself to an imaginative writer first and foremost.
The title story is about a little boy who enjoys playing with his sister. One day, they try to get close to look into a small round window, the windeye, that they can never find inside the house. He holds her so she can look inside, and suddenly it was as if "she had dissolved into smoke.... She was gone." But where? Then there's "Baby or Doll," about a man who can't decide which is which. Other stories feature a transplanted ear with a mind of its own and a woman who keeps "falling out of time" and can't seem to fall back in. An Evenson tale is one laced with an ominous sense of ambiguity. Imagine Beckett's Murphy or Molloy lost, walking around in a Poe tale, then read these stories to find out why Jonathan Lethem calls Evenson "one of the treasures of American story writing." --Tom Lavoie, former publisher