I am writing to let you know about an upcoming reading by H. Lee Barnes at Sundance Books and Music this Friday night.

I wrote about Lee last September for the High Country News in an article that attempted to capture’s his complexity and style.  Needless to say, I barely scratched the surface.  It probably also goes without saying that I believe that Lee is one of the best contemporary writers of Nevada and Western literature—a belief that is shared by many of his readers and fans.

We were proud to officially release Lee’s latest novel, Car Tag, through our publishing imprint, Virginia Avenue Press, earlier this week.  The press release associated with the book launch opened perfectly: “From the desert to the glittering promise of Las Vegas, Nevada has long been the backdrop for heartbreak and broken dreams. Everyone is susceptible to the traps and temptations, but some families make it easy to give in.”  It goes on to describe the plight of the Debecki family, especially Drew, Billy, and their half brother Alex, as they grow up in a troubled home, find ways of coping, and eventually go their own way—finding distance, careers, and trouble to fill their adult lives.

The reviews so far have been simply tremendous.

• Susan Skorupa from the Reno Gazette-Journal writes that “there’s sadness and emotional uplift that the reader might not recognize until after closing the book. Tragedy makes room for renewal and hope for despair.”
• Brian Burghart from the Reno News and Review says that Barnes writes like “Hemingway, Steinbeck, Fitzgerald, Kerouac, Burroughs.”
• Janet Walker at bookpleasures.com writes: “Only two American author’s books have moved me to tears; at age nine years, Harriet Beecher Stowe’s classic, Uncle Tom’s Cabin and as an adult, reading Larry McMurtry’s, The Evening Star.  Now there’s a third – H. Lee Barnes, a good writer touched by greatness. Read his latest book, Car Tag; you’ll be glad you did.”
• The Midwest Book Review recommended it, calling it “a thoughtful novel of family and mystery.”
• Geoff Schumacher writes this: “Do the right thing: Buy this fine little book instead of the latest airport paperback and strike a blow for quality over marketing.”
• And the Las Vegas Review Journal ran a great profile of Lee and his book here.

The signing is going to bring Reno back to Reno, where he used to live and where some of this amazing book is set.  You can find more details about the reading here, but the basics follow:

What: A reading and signing with Nevada author H. Lee Barnes for his new book, Car Tag.

When: Friday, February 24, 2012 from 6:30 to 8:00PM

Where: Sundance Books and Music, 121 California Avenue, Reno, Nevada 89509

Thank you, and we hope to see you there.

We’ve believed in this great book since we first read the manuscript.  Every time we read it, we found more beauty to its tragedy and more depth to its characters.  It is a Nevada story, through and through, and it is classic Barnes.  We were never worried that the reviewers would see it any other way to be honest, but you never know how the reviews will return.

And now, we have two new reviews that, in our opinion, are the best yet.  Well, to be more accurate, one is not a review as much as it is a profile of Lee and the book.  It’s a great piece, in which Lee tells his interviewer not to steal his dog’s chair, goes off on a colleague for teaching through movies, disregards postmodernism (totally appropriately), and embraces existentialism as a literary necessity.  Here is a little piece below:

Feeling alive versus feeling safe, he says, is also a theme through “Car Tag,” addressing Billy’s troubled past. “The closer you come to some kind of danger, especially as a kid, the more alive we feel, and the more safe and secure our lives are, in many ways the less we really live,” Barnes says.

Read the whole thing here.  It is completely worth your time.

And take a look at this excellent review by the great Geoff Schumacher (formerly of Tonopah and Las Vegas and now heading up a paper in Iowa) in Las Vegas City Life.  It’s an excellent review, through and through, and we appreciate this little endorsement at the end:

That Barnes manages to flow all these currents into a coherent and fast-paced 128 pages is a testament to his still-evolving talents. Do the right thing: Buy this fine little book instead of the latest airport paperback and strike a blow for quality over marketing.

Read all of it here.

And remember, he’s reading and signing his work at Sundance Books and Music in Reno this Friday evening.  Details below:

What: A reading and signing with Nevada author H. Lee Barnes for his new book, Car Tag.

When: Friday, February 24, 2012 from 6:30 to 8:00PM

Where: Sundance Books and Music,  121 California Avenue, Reno, Nevada 89509

When: Friday, February 24, 2012 from 6:30 to 8:00PM

Where: Sundance Books and Music,  121 California Avenue, Reno, Nevada 89509

About the Author: H. Lee Barnes lives and writes in Las Vegas, where he teaches English and creative writing at the College of Southern Nevada. In his past lives, he was a soldier, a deputy sheriff, a narcotics agent, a casino dealer, and a martial arts instructor. His short stories have won the Willamette and the Arizona Authors Association fiction awards. Gunning for Ho, his first collection of short stories, was a finalist for the Stephen Turner First Fiction Award offered by the Texas Institute of Letters. In 2009 he was inducted into the Nevada Writers Hall of Fame.

What People are Saying:

From Janet Walker at bookpleasures.com: “Only two American author’s books have moved me to tears; at age nine years, Harriet Beecher Stowe’s classic, Uncle Tom’s Cabin and as an adult, reading Larry Mc Murtry’s, The Evening
Star. Now there’s a third – H. Lee Barnes, a good writer touched by greatness. Read his latest book, Car Tag; you’ll be glad you did.”

Susan Skorupa from the Reno Gazette-Journal: “‘Car Tag,’ a new novel by H. Lee Barnes, could have ended no other way than the way it does. There’s sadness and emotional uplift that the reader might not recognize until after closing the book. Tragedy makes room for renewal and hope for despair.”

D. Brian Burghart editor of the Reno News and Review: “And now, halfway through this ‘book review,’ I’m going to make a discernible statement about Car Tag: If you like the types of writers and topics I’ve just described, you’re going to like this book. I’m not saying H. Lee Barnes is a member of that pantheon of Hemingway, Steinbeck, Fitzgerald, Kerouac, Burroughs types, I’m just saying he writes like them. Like if someone were reading novels written in 1940 before starting this, he or she wouldn’t be fundamentally sidetracked by intrinsic differences.”

The Midwest Book Review: “One mistake may shatter a family. Car Tag is a dramatic novel following the fallout from the killing of a police officer by a young man. Over the next nine years, Drew Debecki crusades to try to save his brother from death row, going to various extent to do so. In his journey, he must remind himself of the memory of his brother in order to rescue him from his certain doom. Car Tag is a thoughtful novel of family and mystery, recommended.”

Also, read about Lee and the book in this article in High Country News.

CAR TAG by H. Lee Barnes: From the desert to the glittering promise of Las Vegas, Nevada has long been the backdrop for heartbreak and broken dreams. Everyone is susceptible to the traps and temptations, but some families make it easy to give in. Award-winning H. Lee Barnes chronicles the Debecki sons in his latest novel Car Tag (Virginia Avenue Press) with devastating honesty.

“Their boyhood wasn’t recorded, not the way that some families preserve moments and events. That, he reminded himself, is because there were so few events. They fabricated their own growing-up experiences through mischief, daring, and a little petty larceny.”

In what may be the quintessential Nevada novel, the reader re-lives the chaotic childhood of the Debecki brothers, while the story weaves in the present-day consequences. Younger Billy Debecki has killed a rural police officer; big brother Drew is a police officer on the Las Vegas police force trying to spare Billy the death penalty. The story plays out against a background so vividly drawn it might be a character in its own right.  Moving
from the open desert near Rhyolite, Nevada to the Nevada Supreme Court, Car Tag probes the ambiguities of the death penalty while exploring the complexities of family life. Ultimately the story is revealed to be a mystery shrouded by time and grief, with Barnes skillfully showing us how the chords of memory are stretched thin through time and tragedy but maintain a connection that might save Billy’s life.

Barnes sees an enormous potential for untapped literary resources in his home state. “I really think the parts that have to be explored about Nevada are the parts in between — the trailer communities out in the middle of nowhere,” he says. “Maybe these little places are the last vestiges of the Old West, where the maverick spirit that first brought people here still exists; I’d like to think that they’re populated by people who embrace the idea of escaping the shackles of life in urban and suburban settings.”

It is from Janet Walker at www.bookpleasures.com.  The whole thing is here, but here is a taste.

Glimpses of the friendship and wild times the brothers share as they freewheel around the local neighborhood are funny and touching. While Drew and Alex make the transition from neglected abused children to responsible married men, Billy, accustomed to righting wrongs with his fists, doesn’t cut it. An ongoing disastrous love affair with a vulnerable flawed woman and a fight with Drew precipitate the tragic events which culminate in the death of a highway cop and Billy, at the scene and traumatized by the event, is arrested for murder.

Take a look at her concluding paragraph:

Only two American author’s books have moved me to tears; at age nine years, Harriet Beecher Stowe’s classic, Uncle Tom’s Cabin and as an adult, reading Larry Mc Murtry’s, The Evening Star. Now there’s a third – H. Lee Barnes, a good writer touched by greatness. Read his latest book, Car Tag; you’ll be glad you did.

That’s a pretty heady endorsement of a book that we are incredibly proud of.  Read other recent reviews here.

Here is a bit from Susan’s:

“Car Tag,” a new novel by H. Lee Barnes, could have ended no other way than the way it does.

There’s sadness and emotional uplift that the reader might not recognize until after closing the book. Tragedy makes room for renewal and hope for despair.

Burghart’s is a great review too, check it out here:

And now, halfway through this “book review,” I’m going to make a discernible statement about Car Tag: If you like the types of writers and topics I’ve just described, you’re going to like this book. I’m not saying H. Lee Barnes is a member of that pantheon of Hemingway, Steinbeck, Fitzgerald, Kerouac, Burroughs types, I’m just saying he writes like them. Like if someone were reading novels written in 1940 before starting this, he or she wouldn’t be fundamentally sidetracked by intrinsic differences.

The great and wonderful Midwest Book Review also gave it a positive review:

One mistake may shatter a family. Car Tag is a dramatic novel following the fallout from the killing of a police officer by a young man. Over the next nine years, Drew Debecki crusades to try to save his brother from death row, going to various extent to do so. In his journey, he must remind himself of the memory of his brother in order to rescue him from his certain doom. Car Tag is a thoughtful novel of family and mystery, recommended.

Brothers in an Unforgiving Environment—Car Tag by Acclaimed Author H. Lee Barnes

Las Vegas, NV – January 12, 2012 – From the desert to the glittering promise of Las Vegas, Nevada has long been the backdrop for heartbreak and broken dreams. Everyone is susceptible to the traps and temptations, but some families make it easy to give in. Award-winning H. Lee Barnes chronicles the Debecki sons in his latest novel Car Tag (Virginia Avenue Press) with devastating honesty.

“Their boyhood wasn’t recorded, not the way that some families preserve moments and events. That, he reminded himself, is because there were so few events. They fabricated their own growing-up experiences through mischief, daring, and a little petty larceny.”

In what may be the quintessential Nevada novel, the reader re-lives the chaotic childhood of the Debecki brothers, while the story weaves in the present-day consequences. Younger Billy Debecki has killed a rural police officer; big brother Drew is a police officer on the Los Vegas police force trying to spare Billy the death penalty. The story plays out against a background so vividly drawn it might be a character in its own right.  Moving from the open desert near Rhyolite, Nevada to the Nevada Supreme Court, Car Tag probes the ambiguities of the death penalty while exploring the complexities of family life. Ultimately the story is revealed to be a mystery shrouded by time and grief, with Barnes skillfully showing us how the chords of memory are stretched thin through time and tragedy but maintain a connection that might save Billy’s life.

Barnes sees an enormous potential for untapped literary resources in his home state. “I really think the parts that have to be explored about Nevada are the parts in between — the trailer communities out in the middle of nowhere,” he says. “Maybe these little places are the last vestiges of the Old West, where the maverick spirit that first brought people here still exists; I’d like to think that they’re populated by people who embrace the idea of escaping the shackles of life in urban and suburban settings.”

About the Author: H. Lee Barnes lives and writes in Las Vegas, where he teaches English and creative writing at the College of Southern Nevada. In his past lives, he was a soldier, a deputy sheriff, a narcotics agent, a casino dealer, and a martial arts instructor. His short stories have won the Willamette and the Arizona Authors Association fiction awards. Gunning for Ho, his first collection of short stories, was a finalist for the Stephen Turner First Fiction Award offered by the Texas Institute of Letters. In 2009 he was inducted into the Nevada Writers Hall of Fame.

Purchase the book here.

To those who do not follow neon art closely, this could very well seem to be a heady introduction.  It might leave questions of how and why such assertions could be made.  Throughout the 100-plus pages of this book of photographs and brief essays on the culture and art of neon in Nevada, the authors do their level best to prove the accuracy of Ms. Lakich’s soaring prose.

The latest version of Neon Nevada is a follow up to a previous version published in 1994 by the University of Nevada Press to wide acclaim.  Their concept from the beginning was to drive the state, photograph the neon gems, and interview fellow aficionados around the state, a process they repeated again for the second version.  This version, the latest, captures the differences in Nevada’s neon culture nearly two decades later, during a time when Nevada’s urban centers and rural areas have gone through both enormous growth and an incredible economic downturn, all of which is reflected in their neon.

By far the most appealing aspect of this book is the photography that Peter and Sheila compile, as is fitting for a book focusing on a visual art.  They offer gems, like a reproduction from the Nevada Historical Society of the oldest known usage of neon in the state, “The Peoples Market” in Elko.  There are the various images of Nevada icons like Wendover Will, Cactus Jack, Vegas Vic, and Laughlin Lou, all intended to attract passersby off of the highways and onto the various strips throughout the state.  By far the largest category is of the various bar signs, casino walls, and motel signs still in existence throughout the state.  The final category is of reproductions created by artists who are as big of fans of the craft, the image, and the feel of neon as the authors are.  The images are presented brilliantly, and on purpose, as they describe in their methodology:

Our goal as we collected our neon was to show the signs from the perspective of passersby but at the same time to isolate the neon from any adjacent images so that each photograph captured the pure essence of the sign.  We sought to keep street lights out of our frames and to choose angles carefully so that adjacent street scenes did not create unwanted distortion and distraction. (p. 68-69)

Nearly equal to the images presented in this book is the writing.  This should come as no surprise given the qualifications of the authors.  Peter Laufer holds a PhD, has written more than a dozen books, and is currently a journalism professor at the University of Oregon.  Sheila Swan Laufer is a photographer, a documentary maker, and an author.  Peter’s background in journalism and Sheila’s in memoir writing come through, especially when they examine neon in terms of culture, class, and history.  For example:

At the north end of Carson, an old miner called attention to the 49er Motel.  His neon finger held an incandescent golden lightbulb—his nugget.  But at the 49er Motel, sign maintenance was not pressing business.  The gold nugget lightbulb was burned out. (p. 23)

Neon Nevada combines prose like this and imagery of neon to near perfection throughout the entirety of this little book.  Neon is undoubtedly an important part of Nevada’s image, brand, and history, pictures of it throughout time capturing the state’s economic health, self-perception, and appeals to tourists.  Although Lili Lakich’s foreword might raise an eyebrow by comparing neon signs to the “highest aspirations of the American dream” and the “lowest manifestations of commercialism,” and stating that “no other medium so aptly expresses the American spirit,” the execution of this book just might prove her to be correct.

The magazine, which started shortly after we launched our journal, has been great to us over the years, and has been able to do many things that we haven’t.  Here is how I described it in my review:

Nevada in the West is a glossy and well-designed magazine dedicated to the history and splendor of Nevada. Issued quarterly, its editorial focus spans the State, covering all aspects of Nevada’s history through a variety of genres, including reviews, interviews, essays, scholarly articles, and announcements. Additionally, because of the magazine’s focus on presenting the excellent content in most appealing manner possible, all of the content is complemented by historic and contemporary photography.

Take a look at the contents for the latest issue below, and be sure to pick up a copy and see all of the other interesting items that aren’t included below:

• Atomic Cheeseheads The Nevada Test Site and Las Vegas in the 1950s, by Aaron McArthur
• The Liberty Belle – A Reno Landmark, by Marshall A. Fey
• Tonopah, Nevada, Mining Disaster of 1911, by William J. Metscher
• The IRA and “Indian New Deal” in Nevada, by Shayne Del Cohen
• Lake Tahoe’s Thunderbird Lodge Historic Site, by Bill Watson
• Japanese Balloon Bombs Over Nevada During World War II, by Chuck Weller
• Jean McElrath Remembered, by Milton L. Sharp
• Phyllis Bendure and the Pentagon Patches, by Ken Beaton

The editors have asked me to expand upon my assertion that Winnemucca is the Florence of Northern Nevada—a daunting assignment in view of the fact I have recently returned from Firenza, where I stayed for a time at the Hotel La Gioconda, famous because it was briefly the hideout for an art thief who 1911 made off with the Leonardo da Vinci masterpiece popularly known as the Mona Lisa.

As someone who also takes pictures, I slept fitfully.  Not because I feared the Arma dei Carabiniaeri were closing in, but because the mattress was quite lumpy.  The furnishings and bathroom fixtures were old, perhaps even older than those at my cabinette at the Scott Shady Court in Winnemucca, where I always choose to stay—not because it ‘s deluxe but because it just oozes character.  Next door is unit 61 that the ageless desk clerk Louise routinely assigns to the acclaimed San Francisco photographer Mark Citret.  Like me, Citret is enamored with the Shady Court.  An ethereal picture he shot inside the court’s enclosed swimming pool is featured in his book Along The Way.  More recently, Mark has trained his camera on the table flatware at Winnemucca’s excellent breakfast eatery The Griddle.

I know Mark because we’ve both been featured speakers at Winnemucca’s annual photography symposium, Shooting The West.  It is through STW that I’ve rubbed shoulders with a number of famous photographers and come to admire a community that otherwise I might have just driven through, or around, since Winnemucca, like most towns along the old Emigrant Trail, has been bypassed by the Interstate.  Bear in mind that my impressions are those of a seasonal visitor and not those of someone who lives and works there.  And, speaking as a tourist, my impression of Winnemucca is indeed similar to my impression of Florence; i.e., “Wow, how different everything around here is!”

Different, how?  Well, for one thing, Winnemucca doesn’t seem to take itself as seriously as so many small American towns do.  Perhaps it’s the unusual name with the somewhat comical syllables.  Perhaps it’s the decidedly un-American way that Winnemucca boosters shamelessly appropriate the scenic attractions of other places.  For example, there’s the 13-foot diameter log on Winnemucca Boulevard with the plaque and the sign that marks the beginning of the so-called “Winnemucca-to-the-Sea” highway.  Anyone who turns right onto US 95 in hopes of encountering the Pacific Ocean is in for a very long and dry, treeless, trip!

Walk around Winnemucca’s business district and you’ll discover a variety of interesting restaurants, shops and craft houses.  You can buy a custom-made mountain bike or a handcrafted saddle; you can find a styling salon for your toy poodle or a mechanic who knows how to change a tire on a 350-ton ore hauler.  Explore Old Town and be dazzled by a variety of architectural styles, reflecting a hodgepodge of ethnicities combined with a laissez-faire building code.  Here and there you will come upon impressive structures such as St. Paul’s Roman Catholic Church.  Okay, maybe it’s not the Duomo, but it’s pretty darn nice.  Does the Humboldt River measure up to the Arrno?  Is the Hanson Street Overpass on a par with the Ponte de Vecchio?  Well, probably not, but I will say that The Martin is as good as any restaurant I ate at in Italy.  And it’s not even Italian; it’s Basque.

Here’s the thing about a Basque restaurant:  You will not walk away hungry.  In fact, you’ll be lucky if you can walk away, period.  This because of the Basque aperitif known as the picon, or picon punch.  Tradition holds that you’re supposed to knock back one or two picons in the front bar as you wait to be seated in the family-style dining room.  This is to ensure that you will have absolutely no inhibitions when you find yourself seated next to an erstwhile perfect stranger.  But don’t worry about making a fool of yourself, because chances are your table mates will be just as loaded as you are.

I was first introduced to the picon by Miguel Olano, late proprietor of the ancient Winnemucca Hotel, where even the Z-Brick facade is listed on the national historic register.  Watching Old Mike mix a picon was like watching Michaelangelo paint.  It was pure artistry!   Into the glass went a jigger of this, a jigger of that, followed by a dash of club soda—except that I don’t think Mike actually added the club soda.  He just waved the bottle above the brew whilst muttering some sort of Basque incantation. Then came a twist of lemon and a quick stir, followed by blissful semi-consciousness.

Come suppertime the dining room would suddenly come alive with comely serving girls who seemingly appeared out of nowhere.  Mike’s son ran the kitchen, and did so with an iron hand.  I remember once Gaylen Rowell sent back his steak, asking if he could please have a smaller one.  Presently Mike Jr. appeared with a steak twice as big as the first.

“You eat this!” he ordered, and Gaylen, terrified, did as he was told.  Afterward, we always referred to Mike Jr.—though never to his face—as “the Steak Nazi.”

I regret to report that Mike Jr. has now joined Mike Sr. in the local graveyard.  “His liver exploded,” is how Larry Angier explained it, although it’s hard to imagine just how much alcohol it would take to cause a Basque liver to explode.  For the time being, the Winnemucca Hotel is shuttered, but we who cherish it remain hopeful that somewhere back in Basque Country is a an heir willing to pick up and relocate to a part of the New World that in so many ways isn’t all that much different from the Old One.

____________________

Richard Menzies has long been enamored with the American West. He was born in Price, Utah, and over the years that followed, he has traveled and documented it with his camera and his pen. He has authored hundreds of magazine and newspaper articles and has exhibited widely. His previous books are Passing Through: An Existential journey Across America’s Outback and The Short, Short Hitchhiker.

Barnes, H. Lee.  When We Walked Above the Clouds: A Memoir of Vietnam. Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2011.  299 pages, $29.95—It is almost a requirement that wartime memoirs come loaded with pictures: pictures of the author, pictures of the people discussed in its pages, and pictures of the local landscape.  Every reader wants to know what the enemy and the locals look like, what soldiers who are only known by nicknames and last names could really look like within their context, and what natural barriers they are up against.  It is so common in fact, that the absence of pictures in H. Lee Barnes’ extraordinary wartime memoir, When We Walked Above the Clouds: A Memoir of Vietnam (University of Nebraska Press, $29.95), seems to suggest that Barnes is trying to do something different with his book.

Barnes starts his memoir from his difficult childhood and ends it in the deadly and rigorous jungles of Vietnam, the half-century that elapsed allowing the memories of both to settle.  As a kid, his blended family followed his stepfather from broadcast job to broadcast job around the west and southwest.  The brutal life lessons, or the man who delivered them, forced the young H. Lee Barnes to decide to define manhood in his own way: as a soldier who accepts the hardest challenges and excels at them.  First it was joining the military without waiting for the draft.  Then it was qualifying for Special Forces training and the vaunted Green Berets.  Finally, it was volunteering for Vietnam when the low-intensity conflict was the only game in town.

Before the real troop buildup in the mid-1906s, Barnes and his team deployed to a mountainous outpost named Tra Bong.  As one of the youngest on the team, Barnes was relegated to the jobs no one else wanted or would do: cleaning, building, dealing with waste, and working on the team’s weapons.  In addition to not being fully accepted into the inner circle of his team, he also was an outsider with respect to the hodgepodge of inhabitants in their encampment, from Aussies to Montagnards.  But, as with many long-term military deployments, Barnes was able to rise to the inner circle by both proving his competence and becoming one of the team’s old timers due to the high personnel turnover for a team in country.  In other words, for a young soldier trying to define and prove his manhood, it was an ideal scenario.

Some of the reasons for the high turnover rates were normal, such as team members rotating out as scheduled, but others were more tragic.  One such event was when members of Barnes’ team, including the commander and several other respected members, happen into an ambush during an ill-timed patrol.  The lost patrol not only proves the devastating power of the enemy forces, but the absolute isolation of American forces in the early days of the Vietnam War.  As the replacements come in, Barnes is less than impressed with what he finds.

Whatever challenges he faces with respect to his peers, many of whom he shows real contempt for, Barnes realizes himself to be a truly rare warrior, the kind that is cut out for the harsh and lonely conditions and situations that face the Special Forces soldier.  He manages to lead indigenous and American soldiers on countless patrols through the high mountain passes of Vietnam, the walks that gave him the title of his book so many years later.  The stories are personal, powerful, and at times violent and heroic, although Barnes never presents them as such.

In fact, Barnes writes that there was nothing extraordinary about the things that he experienced in Vietnam.  Compared to some of the more action-packed Vietnam memoirs on bookshelves today, especially those written later in the war after the troop buildups and the high-intensity conflict, that may be the case.  But what is extraordinary about this book is the way it is told.  It is unsentimental to its core, it examines his combat experiences as a continuation of his difficult childhood and rise to manhood, and it offers no real hero or heroic cause.  Barnes pulls back the curtain on his life and the lives of others, and he spares no one, not even himself.

Perhaps the best aspect of the book, though, is the attention Barnes pays to the words he puts on the page.  Each one carries with it a meaning and a weight that makes his story far more than a war memoir or even a coming of age story.  Perhaps that is why Barnes and his editors chose not to include pictures within the pages of this beautiful and exceptional memoir.  Pictures, when compared to Barnes’ writing, are so limiting, literally, a snapshot of clues with no context.  Barnes paints a better picture with his words than a few grainy reprints ever could.

Caleb S. Cage

The Nevada Review