

In “Donovan’s Closet”, a woman in the heady days of a new relationship finds herself addicted to her boyfriend’s lemon-scented closet after falling asleep inside of it. There are probably jokes to be made about infantile actors, but “Emmanuel” just feels like filler.Ĭrane’s best pieces leave the make-believe behind and focus on relationships, much like her previous two collections, All This Heavenly Glory and When the Messenger Is Hot. One story falls flat: “Emmanuel”, about an infant who grew up overnight and asked to be called Ethan Hawke (“this was obviously post-Uma/ Before Sunset Ethan Hawke”). Her stories feel immediate, anchored firmly in the late half of the decade, but probably have a shorter shelf life than books that don’t include as many references to Angelina Jolie, war fatigue and Survivor. And while she might be taking a shot at the grotesqueries revealed by channel surfing, you also get the sense that Crane is not above personally digging some of those shows.Ĭrane writes like she’s running out of air: fast and a little babbly, but she’s endlessly entertaining. Crane peppers her stories with ridiculous reality shows that sound exactly like the shows that crowd today’s television landscape. It is almost impossible not to compare this setup to a show like Celebrity Rehab with Dr. The show “is currently not getting such good ratings and they have never had a woman with a zombie problem before, which they expect will be a draw.”

To find help, she auditions for a reality show that puts troubled women together in a Miami Beach mansion and hooks them up with life coaches. Infected by another zombie at a craft store, Betty wants desperately to keep from giving in to her cravings, which include eating her husband and dog. Most of the pieces embrace the optimistic spirit of the title story, in which a time-traveling photographer is jailed for being too happy and there finds her soul mate, who is also criminally cheerful.Įven a story like “Betty the Zombie”, while gross due to its subject matter, is weirdly upbeat. Though none of the 16 stories are connected, all of Crane’s characters are seeking to adjust to something, from strange changes (a town that has suddenly turned transparent, in “Clearview”) to routine irritants (in “Varieties of Loudness in Chicago”, an obnoxious new neighbor, age 26, size 2). Zombies, time travelers, reality TV contestants and even a few normalish folks populate the pages of Elizabeth Crane’s quirky, charming new collection.
