The short stories contained in Laura Chester’s Rancho Weirdo are wonderfully weird, original, and fresh.  They are also as sharp as broken glass, with its jagged pieces sending off flashes of light that beam understanding, sympathy and grace.  I laughed out loud during the first stories and by the final installments, with the mood moving steadily towards the dark, I cried.  Chester is an artist with words and images, wielding both her stories and her readers with ease: we bend as she curves the world, and our perceptions of it, around us.

Chester’s characters range across all ages, all classes, and all genders (and there are more than two) and every one of them rings true: the rich Easterner building on western land sacred to Native Americans; the woman turning fifty and trying to make her day special; the girl forced to go bird-watching with her father; the man on a solitary vacation who meets up with a mysterious, silent, and athletic Muslim; the Catholic from New Orleans in love with her priest; the child scarred by September 11th and worse; and so on.  The range is wide but the portrayal is focused and true: Chester knows her humans, and she has great pleasure, even in tragedy, in letting us in on the secrets. Although her stories crackle with wit, Chester is never laughing at her characters but always with them; she is always rooting for them, and we are too.

Rancho Weirdo lodges a wonderful collection of characters, presents a refreshing assortment of situations, and widens perceptions of what is normal: nothing is what it seems, after all, if you look closely enough.  The searingly simple drawings of Haeri Yoo are the perfect accompaniment to Chester’s stories, accentuating the “something not quite right but absolutely true” quality ofRancho Weirdo.

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