
‘Calls May Be Recorded’ Intentionally Disconnects
Katharina Volckmer’s tale of an isolated soul’s yearning for connection, Calls May Be Recorded intentionally disconnects with its readers in that funny/not funny way.

Katharina Volckmer’s tale of an isolated soul’s yearning for connection, Calls May Be Recorded intentionally disconnects with its readers in that funny/not funny way.

Juan José Millás’ Only Smoke explores the relationship between meaning and observation.

The narrator of Not Long Ago Persons Found says “a detective story is supposed to be about the restoration of order”, yet this Kafkaesque tale does not do so.

In Eric Puchner’s Dream State dramatic plot points bob upon a flat-line surface rather than rising, reflecting the rhythm inherent in actual human life.

Prolific writer Roger Célestin presents in his debut novel, The Delicate Beast a timely tale of how autocracy will devour you once the process has begun.

There is no guilty pleasure in reading Lynn Stegner’s The Half-Life of Guilt. There is only pleasure.

While navigating many odd circumstances, Lindsey Drager’s The Avian Hourglass provides a continuous stream of consciousness; scientific, literary, and philosophical.

In Norman Lock’s The Caricaturist, the characters find themselves in a fraught time of war fever just as one century dies and a new one is born.

The narrative in Colin Barrett’s debut novel Wild Houses unfolds predictably, without much in the way of plot twists or surprises.

Alexis Soloski’s Here in the Dark illuminates the act of performance (no matter the stage) and the notion of stepping into and out of one’s personhood.

Below the surface clutter of its frenetic plot line, The Sterns Are Listening deftly deals with dwelling ‘peacefully in doubt’.

Physicist Ulf Danielsson’s The World Itself pins the powerful, slippery imagination and its impressive ideas about consciousness to matter’s messy, impermanent state.