In these stories of magic and memory, clustered around a resort hotel in a small Virginia community, Cary Holladay takes the reader on an excursion through the changes wrought by time on the community and its visitors. From the quiet of a rural forest to the rhythms of rock and roll, The Quick-Change Artist is at once whimsical and hard-edged, dizzying in its matter-of-fact delivery of the fantastic. Romance, a sense of place and belonging, and the supernatural--especially in the lives of children coming of age--offer windows into worlds beyond the ordinary throughout The Quick-Change Artist. In the title story, a young chambermaid is in love with a foreign magician who performs at the hotel where she works. In "Heaven," set during the 1918 flu epidemic, a struggling mother and son rely on the support of their fortune-telling plow horse. The narrator of "Jane's Hat" recalls a childhood enlivened by an unusual school principal and a friend who starts finding beauty everywhere. Horses and the people who love them, wanderers and those who feed them, creatures that disappear and those who search for them: these are stories with a constant heart.

Each of the crystalline worlds Cary Holladay brings us in the short stories and novella that make up Brides in the Sky has sisterhood, in all its urgency and peril, at its heart. In the title story, two women in 1850s Virginia marry brothers who promptly uproot them to follow the Oregon Trail west, until an unexpected shift of allegiance separates the sisters forever. Elsewhere in the book, a young boy's kidnapping ignites tensions in a sorority house; frontier figure Cynthia Ann Parker struggles upon her return to her birth community from the Comanche people with whom she's lived a full life; and in a metafictional twist, a gothic tale resonates in the present. In the novella, "A Thousand Stings," three sisters come of age in the 1960s over a long summer of small-town scandal and universal stakes. These are just some of the lives, shaped by migrations, yearning, and the long shadows of myth, that Holladay creates. She crafts them with subtle humor, a stunning sense of place, and an unerring eye for character.

Each of the crystalline worlds Cary Holladay brings us in the short stories and novella that make up Brides in the Sky has sisterhood, in all its urgency and peril, at its heart. In the title story, two women in 1850s Virginia marry brothers who promptly uproot them to follow the Oregon Trail west, until an unexpected shift of allegiance separates the sisters forever. Elsewhere in the book, a young boy's kidnapping ignites tensions in a sorority house; frontier figure Cynthia Ann Parker struggles upon her return to her birth community from the Comanche people with whom she's lived a full life; and in a metafictional twist, a gothic tale resonates in the present. In the novella, "A Thousand Stings," three sisters come of age in the 1960s over a long summer of small-town scandal and universal stakes. These are just some of the lives, shaped by migrations, yearning, and the long shadows of myth, that Holladay creates. She crafts them with subtle humor, a stunning sense of place, and an unerring eye for character.

Images of dancing and the theme of survival connect the stories in Cary Holladay's latest fiction collection, "The Palace of Wasted Footsteps." These images may be explicit, or understated, as in "Mayflies," which suggests the glorious yet frantic dance of brief, intense lives. Yet each story depicts men, women, and children partnered with death, love, or strange, wonderful chance.

Set largely in the Mid-South, Holladay's stories feature characters with honest, even old-fashioned, sensibilities who set out to do right and end up smitten. The policeman in "Doll" discovers that his affection is torn between his pregnant wife, a mannequin he found in a dump, and a haughty saleswoman whose smile is like "a cat's yawn." The young woman in "Runaways," bedazzled by the vanished hot-air balloonist who was her best friend's father, creates a loving legend about him that inspires and sustains her.

Darker in subject matter and atmosphere, "Merry-Go-Sorry" captures an ironic theme that is carried throughout the collection. "Merry- go-sorry. It means a story with good news and bad . . . smacking you in the face at the same time." Centering on a small Arkansas town in the aftermath of a triple murder, the story follows the effects of three boys' deaths on the lives of their parents, friends, and accused killers. Despite the sorrow felt throughout the community, one girl finds solace in her new baby and in the Bible verses she readily quotes.

"Rapture," the story of a young woman who has lost her family and her home, again captures the essence of both joy and sorrow. When a friend gives her a small glass egg, Etta is suddenly confronted with memories of her youth and her beloved family. Although buried woes emerge, she is also filled with newfound contentment: "Tourists waved. To her surprise, her hand flew up; she was waving back."

The rituals, struggles, and triumphs that the various characters in "The Palace of Wasted Footsteps" experience are personal yet universal. At the same time, they capture the subtle echoes of the American South and its literary tradition. Like glorious mayflies, Holladay's characters are forever enthralled in the frantic dance of life--their passions are strong, their fates inevitable.