I Was Just Sitting There Eating a Salad… is a loose, comic tapestry rather than a traditional story collection with hard walls between pieces. The book keeps circling back to Green City and its recurring cast, especially Edward Loomis, the salad-eating private detective whose disastrous encounters become a running joke, while other stories widen the town into something stranger and more affectionate. One minute, the book is leaning into broad farce with names like Randolph and Imogene Scary and a whole town rattled by an “alien” misunderstanding, and the next it opens into more ambitious comic sci-fi through Jerald Cross, Sarah Smart, Greg Lieberman, and the wormhole device that turns a small West Virginia town into the center of increasingly absurd adventures. What finally holds it together is the sense that Green City is its own comic universe, one where gossip, coincidence, pulp plotting, and homemade science all somehow belong in the same weather.

The opening salad story is such a good example of the collection’s method because it commits completely to repetition, timing, and escalation until Edward’s laugh becomes practically mythic. I also found myself genuinely charmed by the way the stories start cross-pollinating. “Wormhole” could have felt like it came from a different book, but instead, it deepens the world, giving the collection a stronger spine than I expected. The courtroom frame, the teenage inventiveness, and the uneasy moral turn after the Nevada chase give that story real momentum, and later pieces gain extra pleasure because they’re no longer isolated gags. By the time the book gets to ghosts, pranks, and military suspicion, it’s working with a whole local mythology, and I admired how casually it builds that mythology without ever sounding solemn about it.

Author Victor Coltey’s prose has a talky, easy-going looseness that can be funny, especially when a narrator is half deadpan and half delighted by his own nonsense, but it can keep pushing after the laugh has landed. Some of the character descriptions and comic premises are intentionally outrageous, though for me they worked. There were stretches where I felt the book’s affection for eccentricity and caricature was warm and knowing. The author’s note helped confirm what the stories themselves suggest, which is that the book is openly trying to mix humor, sci-fi, and what Coltey calls “a little idiocy,” and I think that self-awareness is important because it frames the collection less as polished satire than as a homemade comic world built out of tall tales, genre love, and an authentic voice.

This book is rough-edged, but also lively, distinctive, and cohesive. Its best stories have the pleasure of hearing a practiced raconteur keep a straight face while the town around him slips further into absurdity, and its larger appeal is the way it treats small-town life as a stage big enough for wormholes, ghosts, Sasquatch, and very bad lunches. I’d recommend it to readers who enjoy offbeat regional humor, linked story collections, and comic speculative fiction that feels homemade rather than slick. It’s the kind of book for someone who likes their fiction odd, chatty, and full of personality.

Pages: 203 | ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0GG7TV3TG