Doghouse Roses: Stories

Fans of Steve Earle's music will recognize many familiar themes in his first collection of short stories, Doghouse Roses. Here are tales of drug addiction, the nightmare of Vietnam, and the price of failure (or success) in the music industry. Not surprisingly, the latter topic elicits some of Earle's best work: in "Billy the Kid," for example, he traces the meteoric rise of Nashville's last authentic country-music prodigy, whose early fame was abruptly terminated by a car accident. And in "Doghouse Roses," Bobby Charles's career nose-dives as he grapples with heroin, speedballs, and crack: "He suspended all pretence of taking care of himself, going for days without showering and living on a steady diet of ice cream and Dr. Pepper. He left the house only to cop, driving straight home and sitting in the tiny half bath in the hallway for hours with his pipe." Yet the protagonist, like his creator, finally regains a grip on sobriety, along with a revived career.

Earle misses the mark in "Taneytown," a first-person narrative told through the eyes of a mentally retarded black child. And his focus on the harsh (and very masculine) world of junkies, country music, and execution chambers can grow a little thin. Still, Doghouse Roses offers up an ample dose of optimism. After all, in a world where cold-blooded murderers let innocent men take the rap, and junkies watch their dealers die, the gods of forgiveness can still be summoned with a single rose sold at a convenience store--the age-old remedy for men in the proverbial doghouse. --Gregory Bensinger