[click image]George Saunders is my favorite short story writer. I think he's practically perfect in every way. I haven't even heard this yet, and I don't know if I've even read it in the magazine, or one of his story collections, but if George Saunders wrote it, I know I'm going to love it, whether it's the first time or the tenth time....
I remember the first of his stories I ever read, and I don't know when in my life something has knocked me out like that. It was about a guy who worked at a theme park as a pretend cave man, and his relationship with his co-worker pretend cave woman. It seemed so goofy on its face, but the depths of meaning were so recondite and so rare and so exquisitely sensitive that I just ran out into the trees and made all kinds of groans and whoops of astonishment and celebration. I then ran to Peggy and Jim's to announce that they couldn't keep amassing books without including this guy's stuff. And then I read everything he'd ever written up to then, and, well, so, uhm.... He may be God.
He doesn't seem like it person, but then, nobody does.
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