At the conclusion of short-story writer Kirstin Valdez Quade’s riveting “Ordinary Sins,” small-town priest Father Paul lies defeated on the dust-coated carpet of his rectory bedroom, confessing his transgressions in a last-ditch attempt to exorcise inner demons. “Forgiveness is a drug, too,” he stammers. “Believe me. You can forgive and forgive until you’re high on it and you can’t stop. It’ll numb you as much as any of that stuff.” But what sears the scene into the reader’s memory is not the dignified leader’s fall from grace. Rather, it is the unexpected identity of his confidant: Crystal, the church’s pregnant, unmarried secretary.

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It is moments like these—melancholic, grimly ironic, yet utterly hopeful—that establish Quade as a literary voice to be reckoned with. Throughout the past five years, her masterfully crafted fiction has been published in The Best American Short Stories, The New Yorker, and elsewhere; only now, however, has she released a complete collection of her work. Despite occasionally eschewing believability for cheap thrills, Quade’s first book of short stories,“Night at the Fiestas,” proves to be a quiet, stunningly rendered meditation on the lingering sting of past mistakes and the hazy path one takes to redemption.

“Fiestas” consists of ten separate stories, each viewed from the perspective of a singular, painstakingly-crafted character: Quade’s protagonists vary widely in ethnicity, gender, age, wealth, and education level. While such disparities in experiences and viewpoints could have muddled other debuts, this collection remains cohesive due to a few common threads weaved between chapters. Notably, each character longs to reach some sort of salvation, seeking to escape an unforgiving northern New Mexico’s vicious cycle of food stamps and broken promises. Oftentimes, reminders of what could have been manifest themselves physically, whether in the form of a now-dilapidated family home (“The Guesthouse”) or a stunning ballgown never again to be worn (“Mojave Rats”). The most outstanding link between stories is Quade’s glowing use of language; like a Southwestern desert breeze, her prose glides across the page, and a plethora of phrases—“her attention swept over me the way I imagined a wave would, warm and slow and salty”—are unabashedly gorgeous.

For inexperienced writers, crafting short stories can be disarmingly tricky. The confines of 30-or-so pages necessitate a more indirect description of characters, often precipitating bloated caricatures of protagonists. What’s more, individual voices are at risk of coalescing by the sixth or seventh story, with each character beginning to sound remarkably like those before. Quade, however, adroitly avoids such pitfalls. The main strength of “Fiestas” lies in how impressively she has fleshed out her characters: Each is flawed, funny, and incredibly real. She juggles a multitude of unique voices, from an 11-year-old gently examining the constraints of religion, to a lonely mother desperate to escape “a future as barren as the salt flats,” to a deadbeat father playing Jesus in a local religious production. Quade possesses an eye for minute, quirky details: For example, sentimental Jeff “mourns even memories that aren’t his.” These subtle observations breathe new life into what could be perceived as tired stories.

Refreshingly, Quade refuses to conclude any story with a tidy, optimistic ending. Instead, each conclusion is amorphous, the characters’ problems left unresolved, a choice that decidedly bolsters the unwavering realism of her collection. In the thought-provoking “Jubilee,” farmer’s daughter and Stanford student Andrea attends a party thrown by the family of her wealthy classmate, Parker. As the event progresses, she becomes acutely aware of her own race and class-based insecurities and flushes with jealousy at the sight of Parker’s ostensible happiness. But it’s the resolution—or lack thereof—that truly impresses: Instead of establishing a makeshift friendship with her peer, Andrea remains disillusioned by the sight of the immense privilege inundating her. “She’d forever be checking ethnicity boxes, emphasizing her parents’ work: farm laborer, housekeeper. Trying to prove she was smart enough, committed enough…to be granted a trial period in their world.” Quade is not satisfied with giving her characters the easy way out, and the omission of a clean narrative arc, with each tale resembling a blurry snapshot rather than a neatly wrapped package, adds to the inherent grittiness of each story.

On occasion, however, Quade’s storytelling veers dangerously close to the overly whimsical. In “Family Reunion,” 11-year-old atheist Claire embarks on a weeklong excursion with her best friend’s Mormon mother Patsy, where they bond over their lack of connection to their respective families. As the two begin to grow close, Patsy begins to act increasingly intimate toward young Claire, eventually kissing her on the mouth. While it’s clear what message Quade is attempting to convey—that mutual feelings of loneliness can unite even the most diametrically opposite personalities—the means through which she conveys it borders on the absurd, even exploitative. “Fiestas” works wonders when Quade is simply exploring the complexities of her characters, within the constraints of what is believable to the reader. It is only when she springs nonsensical, somewhat uncomfortable developments on her audience that she disrupts the inherent flow of her book.

A few minor faults notwithstanding, “Night at the Fiestas” truly is a brilliant piece of literature. It  transcends the prototypical modern short story collection because, unlike many of her fellow young authors, Quade possesses an extraordinary insight into human nature. She analyzes the aspirations and motivations of her motley crew of characters with a laser-like precision, and, as a result, each feels infinitely relatable. Her writing is simultaneously taut and rich with breathtaking imagery, her stories imbued with tender urgency. Throughout her book, Quade’s characters dream of some validation for their own existence, but rarely do these fantasies ever materialize. Quade, on the other hand, will surely evade the same fate; with “Fiestas,” she has proven herself to be an author readers won’t soon forget.