Can woe fit in your hand? Say you had a book that while having some heft still fit right there in your hand, like a paperback, and say that book had stories about baboons eating the brains of babies, and anorexic models, women dieing in horrific car crashes, and prostitution, and rape, and cancer, and shooting deaths, and on and on, but could still fit in your hand, its size almost the inverse of the intensity of its content. Would you want to read it, this series of horrific, yet true, stories piling onto each other in a morass of pain and suffering? What if we told you the book was by TBWCYL, Inc. favorite John Reed, author of a number of joints, including, Snowball's Chance and All The World's A Grave, two works that take something you think know, Animal Farm and Shakespeare's plays respectively, and make them into something new and different, and endlessly readable. Which is the thing thing about Tales of Woe, the new collection by Reed, its all the worst things you can possibly imagine, told as if you've never heard them before, fresh and absorbing, and readable, compulsively readable, as everything Reed does has been, and certainly will be. So, can woe fit in your hand? Absolutely.