The Continental Divide: Stories – Bob Johnson
Bob Johnson’s debut collection, “The Continental Divide,” unfolds in the fictional town of Mount Moriah, Ind. — a stand-in for the numerous overlooked small towns of Northeastern Indiana.
Real-world places like Fort Wayne, Muncie, Churubusco and the Plainfield Correctional Facility ground the stories, but Johnson is more interested in emotional truth than geographic precision. Readers unfamiliar with the region may miss some of the local references, but his sense of place is strong and immersive.
This is a bleak book. Most of the author's characters are either giving in to their worst instincts or dragging others down with them. Few stories end well. There’s no pretense of hope or redemption here, but the writing is confident and most stories include enough unexpected turns to keep you reading.
The strongest — “The Continental Divide,” “Please, Mister, Please” and “Lady Liberty” — share a noir-ish sensibility, reading like miniature crime thrillers. Each is tightly paced, with sharp turns that feel earned, if occasionally predictable.
In the namesake story, a mother takes justice into her own hands after her son commits an unforgivable act. The small-town claustrophobia is palpable, and while the antagonist is drawn a little too thinly to feel real, the story’s emotional weight holds.
Similarly, “Lady Liberty” delivers a deliciously twisted portrait of entitlement turned deadly, its protagonist unspooling in such a way that the final twist feels both inevitable and satisfying. “Please, Mister, Please” dips into Stephen King territory — a nighttime rescue that becomes a tense game of survival. The twist is foreseeable, but the tension still works. This trio of stories show Johnson is at his best when blending tension with moral ambiguity.
But he also shows promise in quieter, more introspective moments. “Tell Me About Bobby Kennedy” explores aging and regret through the lens of Obama’s first campaign, while “The Half Hour” explores small-town gossip and mother/daughter dynamics in a few tight pages. These stories hint at a broader emotional range the collection could have used more often.
As the collection wears on, a fatigue sets in. Addiction, violence and toxic masculinity appear repeatedly, and many of the stories follow similar arcs. While the themes are grounded in real struggle, the repetition dulls their impact. Several stories blur together, and the narrative begins to feel uneven.
An exception is “The Devil’s Age,” a follow-up to “Little Dude” told from the town marshal’s perspective. It reframes earlier events and deepens the story’s resonance, asking difficult questions about fatherhood, failure and resignation.
Even in its weaker entries — “Man on the Tracks,” “Wicked Heart” and “Little Dude” — there are flashes of something more. Johnson understands the broken machinery of small-town America. When characters reappear in later stories, subtly, almost like ghosts, it hints at larger ambitions. It’s not hard to imagine him building toward an interconnected novel set in Mount Moriah.
As a debut, “The Continental Divide” is grim, bold and occasionally brilliant. Johnson knows how to build tension and tap into the slow, often quiet desperation of a life that feels like it’s going nowhere. He’s not reinventing the short story but proving he belongs in the conversation. If his next work adds some light to balance the dark, it might not just be promising — it could be exceptional.
Thank you to Cornerstone Press, Kaye Publicity and the author for a gifted copy. This exchange of goods has not influenced my review.
Rating (story): 4/5 stars
Rating (narration): N/A
Format: Paperback (ARC)
Dates read: February 18 – March 24, 2025
Multi-tasking: N/A
