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Walk Me to the Distance, Percival Everett's second novel, is a harder read than his first. I can envision some Suder fans having to reset expectations about this young author, and it is interesting to see that from the outset Everett was throwing curveballs and redefining genres.

Walk Me to the Distance reexamines the Western. It is spare and unsparing; no dashing heroes and clearcut villains here. The novel follows a Vietnam vet who has just returned from the war and ends up in Wyoming. Everett lets him live on a ranch, this is a Western after all, and there is a one-legged old woman and horses and a posse. But the vet is no cowboy; he finds work as a highway rest stop attendant.

The author is adept at letting the characters' words and actions define them, never succumbing to the temptation to add other explanations for the reader. Conversations are fragmentary and bounce around. A lot happens between chapters, between pages, between sentences.

I'm still percolating on this one. I'm currently rounding up to four stars from 3.5.