The Fast Red Road—A Plainsong is a gleeful, two-fisted plundering of the myth and pop- culture surrounding the American Indian. It is a novel fueled on pot fumes and blues, a surreal pseudo-Western, in which imitation is the sincerest form of subversion. Indians, cowboys, and outlaws are as changeable as their outfits; horses are traded for Trans-Ams, and men are as likely to strike poses from Gunsmoke as they are from Custer's last stand. Pidgin, the half-blood protagonist, inhabits a world of illusion—of aliens, ghosts, telekinesis, and water-pistol violence, where TV and porn offer redemption, and the Indian always gets it in the end. His attempts to reconcile the death of his father with five hundred years of colonial myth-making lead him to criss-cross a wasted New Mexico, returning compulsively to his hometown of Clovis, the site of his father's burial.

Accompanied by car thief Charlie Ward, he evades the cops in a top-down drag race, tearing through barriers "Dukestyle." The land they travel seems bent with fever—post-apocalyptic—as though the end has arrived and no one noticed. Its occupants hawk bodies and pastel bomb shelters, wandering a bleak hallucination of strip-joints, strip-malls, and all you can eat beef fed beef stalls. They speak a lingo of disposable nicknames, truncated punch lines—slang with an expiration date. Pidgin strays through bar and junkyards, rodeos and carnivals, encountering the remnants of the Goliard tribe. There's the mysterious Mexican Paiute, Uncle Birdfinger, checkout-girl Stiya 6—the reincarnation of Pidgin's mother—and media-queen Psychic Sally, who predicts the group's demise. Each plays a part in the search that will eventually place Pidgin in a position to rewrite history.

Jones delivers his stunning epic in violent, palpable prose, rendering a dark yet recognizable vision. The Fast Red Road blazes a trail through the puppets and mirrors of myth, meeting the unexpected at every turn, and proving that the past—the texture of the road—can and must be changed....

On Halloween night, following an unnerving phone call from his diabetic mother, Hale and six of his med-school classmates return to the house where his sister disappeared years ago. And while there’s no sign of his mother, something is waiting for them there, has been waiting a long time. Written as a literary film treatment littered with footnotes like breadcrumbs, Demon Theory is even parts camp and terror, combining glib dialogue, fascinating pop culture references and an intricate subtext as it pursues the events of a haunting movie trilogy too real to dismiss. When it was released in December 1996, Scream, in the words of director John Carpenter, “recast horror for a very cynical, postmodern generation of young kids,” thus revitalizing a genre that had nearly become obsolete. Since then, movie audiences have whole-heartedly embraced the intelligent horror movies that pay homage to Scream—including The Sixth Sense, The Ring, and, most recently The Grudge—and a similar phenomenon has emerged among book readers, as evidenced by the success of House of Leaves and Neil Gaiman’s eerie graphic novels. Stephen Graham Jones’ Demon Theory is a refreshing and occasionally shocking addition to this growing tradition. There are movies about books and books about movies, and there’s Demon Theory, that one finger of light from the back of the auditorium, pointing simply up. The pages are stained with popcorn, yes, but something darker too, something you can’t wash away....

After burning up the blacktop in New Mexico with "The Fast Red Road" and rewriting Indian history on the Great Plains with "The Bird is Gone", Stephen Graham Jones now takes us to Montana. Set on a Blackfeet Indian reservation, the life of one Indian boy, Doby Saxon, is laid bare through the eyes of those who witness it: his near-death experience, his suicide attempts, his brief glimpse of victory, and the unnecessary death of one of his best friends.But through Doby there emerges a connection to the past, to an Indian Agent who served the United States Government over a century before. This revelation leads to another and another until it becomes clear that the decisions of this single Indian Agent have impacted the lives of generations of Blackfeet Indians. And the life of Doby Saxon, a boy standing in the middle of the road at night, his hands balled into fists, the reservation wheeling all around him like the whole of Blackfeet history hurtling towards him.Jones' beautifully complex novel is a story of life, death, love, and the ties that bind us not only to what has been but what will be: the power of one moment, the weight of one decision, the inevitability of one outcome, and the price of one life....