I first heard about James Salter from John McNally (whose own books, Troublemakers and the Book of Ralph are highly recommended) who mentioned him in a summer fiction course I took. He recommended A Sport and a Pasttime, which seems to be Salter's go-to book. It is a hyper-sexual, introspective masterpiece that more than lives up to its reputation.

From there, I mostly have stuck with Salter's short fiction. I've heard him read twice; he was invited to the University of Iowa by his friend, the late Frank Conroy, who ran the Writer's Workshop there. He read then-unpublished stories both times, and both times I was blown away.

In his new book, Last Night, Salter offers 10 short stories -- emphasis on short -- that captivate and beguile. These are uncomfortable situations, for the most part, and it is not always easy to find a sympathetic character. The two stories he read in Iowa City are here, as are those people may have read in the New Yorker and other places over the past few years.

Salter's stories often drop you into the middle of a situation; usually a conversation of some sort. It feels like showing up to a dinner party just before dessert is served -- one of the stories here actually is set at such a time -- and it takes a moment to get your bearings. What in less-skilled hands could leave readers feeling confused and ultimately sabotage the story has the opposite effect here; Salter draws you in because the opening sentences of his stories pull you in and make you want to catch up. By the time you do, you're not far from the end. But you never read too quickly; his sentences are to be savored, his descriptions and metaphors sublime.

There are plenty of places out there to read more about Salter, so I'll spare the biography. Suffice to say that he is among the best writers we have today, and anyone who enjoys a taut, near-perfectly constructed short story would be wise to pick up Last Night.