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Carleigh Baker, Bad Endings

The publishing genre of "short story collection" is always under pressure, and for what are normally presumed to be good capitalist reasons. Just like the death of the album came in part from consumers' sense that structurally they were almost always going to be padded with weak songs to enable the sale of the artists' few good ideas, readers worry that not every story in a collection is worth their time. Now, I think of myself as a short-story reader (as well as a short story-reader), but when I went back through my posts here, to my great surprise I found only a few collections over the last four years. Some of these collections I've really enjoyed, like Take Me to Your Chief, by Drew Hayden Taylor, or D.W. Wilson's Once You Break a Knuckle: some, not so much, like Daniel Griffin's Stopping for Strangers. But in any case, I didn't expect that I didn't know how much my reading has been dominated by novels and (especially) nonfiction, with a leave…

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