The short stories of a writer's writer

Because I’ve thoroughly enjoyed James Salter’s novels, I snapped up a copy of Last Night, his 2005 collection of ten short stories in a library book sale.

I’ve read that Salter is known as a writer’s writer, which I take to mean that his sentences, his paragraphs, his stories are, at the craft level, exquisite.

That may be, but Salter's writing is not so carefully crafted that it calls attention to itself. You don’t stop in a Salter story—I don’t stop—to admire a perfectly turned phrase, a beautiful description. You often do finish one of his stories struck by the impact and wondering how he does it.

He manages to evoke people at their most profound and significant moments: A book dealer faces the truth about his life, as it is and as it will never be again, when he is visited by his brash former girlfriend.

A lonely married woman, after a disturbing encounter with a drunken poet at a dinner party, finds herself irresistibly drawn to his animal surrogate, a huge tawny-eyed dog.

A lover of poetry must come to terms with his wife’s request to give up what may be his treasured relationship.

Salter, who died in 2015, was extraordinary in his ability to evoke a place, a person, and a plausible situation in a few pages. I don’t know if he was a writer’s writer, but I do know that his best stories are worth studying to see how he created characters and suggested entire lives.