Winner of the 2003 Spokane Prize for Short Fiction The characters in Kurt Rheinheimer's first collection are players in the late innings of a tied ball game between hope and the limitations imposed by their histories, obsessions, affections, loyalties, and unspoken regrets. More real than the residents of Masters' Spoon River, more familiar than the denizens of Winesburg, Rheinheimer's people, young and old, look straight at us, as though waiting for us to remember that we are not alone in our struggle to understand and to become whole. Though the stories have the weight and reach we expect from serious fiction, they also frequently tiptoe on the margins of hilarity. And the washed up ball players, hubcap collectors, minor league umpires, mobile home salesmen, and all the others we meet on our way through small town America also serve out generous helpings of charm.
Winner of the 2003 Spokane Prize for Short Fiction The characters in Kurt Rheinheimer's first collection are players in the late innings of a tied ball game between hope and the limitations imposed by their histories, obsessions, affections, loyalties, and unspoken regrets. More real than the residents of Masters' Spoon River, more familiar than the denizens of Winesburg, Rheinheimer's people, young and old, look straight at us, as though waiting for us to remember that we are not alone in our struggle to understand and to become whole. Though the stories have the weight and reach we expect from serious fiction, they also frequently tiptoe on the margins of hilarity. And the washed up ball players, hubcap collectors, minor league umpires, mobile home salesmen, and all the others we meet on our way through small town America also serve out generous helpings of charm.