One day,
Christ will come down from the sky
Dressed in glorious red robes.
Every knee will bend;
Every tongue confess.
All wrongs, all pain, all evil will fail.
Until that day,
I need to keep my bank account balance Read the rest of this entry »
“I have some bad news,” her husband said as he came home from Sunday bishopric meetings. “I really tried to suggest it. But they wouldn’t listen. You’re not getting food for Mother’s Day. You’re getting pansies.”
“Seriously?” She shook her head. It’s not that she was surprised, just that she was hoping for a little magic this year.
“I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t convince them. I’ll try again next year, though.” He kissed her cheek and joked, “But hey, I hear you can eat pansies.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
I am not getting pansies again next year, she silently vowed. I’ll make sure of that. Then she smiled. She had an idea. Read the rest of this entry »
Elder Russell’s greenie was the most diligent, obedient missionary he had served with so far in Spain. There was only one problem: he wouldn’t stop drumming. During breakfast, lunch and dinner; phone calls, visits, and discussions. With his fingers, his fists, his feet, his knees, his mouth. With forks and spoons, pens and pencils, pamphlets and notebooks, twigs and breadsticks. On the bus and on the metro; on the table and on the counter; on the elevator and on the stairs. On his chest and legs and arms. On his scriptures, on his dinner plate, on his backpack, on his bed. On every door frame, every handrail, every seat back, every street sign. And even sometimes on Elder Russell. Read the rest of this entry »
“But as good as the price-per-ounce may be, you just don’t need that much mayonnaise.”
—CBS MoneyWatch, “5 Things You Should Buy At Costco”
It is tempting to begin aggressively,
To ask what you—with your elevators and your “buzzing-in,”
Your taxis and your tiny, drooping houseplants,
Your Holiday Parties, and your solitary coffee breaks—
Know of shouting, giggling masses of children
Bursting like not-quite-sentient maggots
From the secondhand, mortifying Station Wagon.
Read the rest of this entry »
“We must read, and think, and feel, and pray, and then bring forth our thoughts, and polish and preserve them. This will make literature.”—Orson F. Whitney
Fifty years ago, most schools taught that making literature was a matter of combining great language and universal human values. Since then, millions of readers have decided that context also counts: that it’s nice to get our grand human dilemmas through the lens of very specific cultures with their unique values, traditions, tensions.
We believe that Mormon experience is rich enough to inspire engaging poems, stories, and essays–and are ready to offer thirteen pieces as proof. We also believe that many Mormons are thirsty for quality work that gives voice to their perspective, or else gives them a new way to think about principles they treasure. These pieces have what many readers are maybe only half-aware they’re waiting for.
Thanks to the internet and social media, it’s easier than ever to share the experience of a minority literature with the audience that will understand it best. Over the past week, for instance, nearly 24,000 people read James Goldberg’s blog post “Whose World is ‘Realer’?,” mostly through individual Facebook links. When a need and a lyrical, articulate piece of writing intersect, audiences can emerge that no one otherwise didn’t exist.
So please, join us over the next two weeks on this blog for the Mormon Lit Blitz. Join us on our Facebook page to discuss pieces as they’re published. Get ready to rank your top five pieces for the voting in March. And when a piece moves you or gives you something to talk about or just makes you laugh, share the link. Together, we can build a stronger future for Mormon Literature.
Thank you for your interest, and thank you for your support.
James Goldberg and Scott Hales
Mormon Lit Blitz Coordinators
In our previous announcements of semi-finalists, we included only titles to preserve blind judging. Now that our finalists have been selected, we’d like to congratulate our semi-finalists by name.
So thank you to Emily Harris Adams, Jake Balser, Jeanine Bee, Brandon Caudle, Judith Curtis, Emily Debenham, MacEvoy DeMarest, Deja Earley, Marianne Hales Harding, Wm Morris, Marilyn Nielson, Jonathon Penny, Merrijane Rice, Brittany Rytting, Kathryn Lynard Soper, Kerry Spencer, Doug Staker, Jeanna Mason Stay, Sandra Taylor, Bradford Tuckfield, Cassidy Wadsworth, Amelia Wallace, Terresa Wellborn, and Emily Younker for sharing their fine work.
After testing the semi-finalists with a sample set of likely readers, crunching numbers, rereading piece after piece, and debating back and forth like people with a great dessert menu but a strict calorie limit, we selected thirteen finalists (yes, we said we’d pick only twelve finalists, but were saved from a tough final cut when we remembered it’s Leap Year). They are:
“In Bulk” by Marilyn Nielson
“The Elder Who Wouldn’t Stop” by Wm Morris
“No Substitute for Chocolate” by Jeanna Mason Stay
“Second Coming” by Emily Harris Adams
“The Road Not Taken” by Sandra Tayler
“Stillborn” by Merrijane Rice
“Oil of Gladness” by Kathyrn Lynard Soper
“The Shoe App” by Emily Debenham
“Cada Regalo Perfecto” by Deja Earley
“The Gloaming” by Kerry Spencer
“Babel” by Jonathon Penny
“The Hearts of the Fathers” by Jeanine Bee
“Red Rock” by Marianne Hales Harding
The finalists will be published from Feburary 15th-29th and voting for the Grand Prize (and Kindle) will be open March 1st-15th.
Out of 200 submissions, a panel of judges has selected 32 semi-finalists. Out of these 32, twelve will be selected to compete in the final round for audience votes and the prize Kindle.
Today, we announced the last eight semi-finalists on Facebook and Twitter. As a recap, here they are:
Essay:
“The Hearts of the Fathers”
“My dad thinks he only taught me one thing growing up. Every chance he got he would remind us, ‘Kids, never fight a monkey.’”
Poetry:
“Holding My Grandchild, Come to Land this Morning”
Of gravity, air, earth, and the startling newness of life outside the womb.
“Jars”
Tribute to a vanishing tradition and the women who sustained it for so long.
“Gyroscope”
Thoughts on the quiet dance between freedom and faith.
Fiction:
“The Shattered Backboard”
How an elder in the Bucharest district got drafted to play one game for Club Dinamo.
“Frank’s Leap”
A leap of faith has landed Frank in an impossible decision.
“Flowers from Alan”
“Miracles. Maria thought they’d be cool, until one happened to her.”
“The Road Not Taken”
What regrets would you have if you could see the path you didn’t take?
Out of 200 submissions, a panel of judges has selected 32 semi-finalists. Out of these 32, twelve will be selected to compete in the final round for audience votes and the prize Kindle.
Today, we announced eight more semi-finalists on Facebook and Twitter. As a recap, here they are:
Fiction:
“Ascetic”
Giving up social cola drinking to symbolically support an alcoholic brother is only the beginning of Jared’s legendary powers of self-restraint.
“After”
Giovanni doesn’t see a light just after he dies; he has a hard time seeing anything at all until he learns to focus.
“The Shoe App”
Because she’s 5’10 and loves high heels, Catherine is excited to meet two tall, handsome men in nice suits—and black nametags.
Poetry:
“London Portraits”
“He gazes at the dust-charged sunbeams/ as though they are angels.”
“In Bulk”
An ode to giant jars of Costco mayonnaise, endless desert skies, and other manifestations of Wordsworthian abundance.
“I Teach Six-Year-Olds about Jesus in Sunday School”
You’ve been showered in spit and had your skirt soaked with a little girl’s tears. But you know that this is the world God so loved.
“Red Rock”
“What is it about this place that unwinds the soul, one chink at a time?”
Essay:
“A Lesson in Conversational Slovene”
Two new missionaries struggling to master the language find reliable, if reticent, teachers in a retirement center.
Out of 200 submissions, a panel of judges has selected 32 semi-finalists. Out of these 32, twelve will be selected to compete in the final round for audience votes and the prize Kindle.
Today, we announced eight more semi-finalists on Facebook and Twitter. As a recap, here they are:
Poetry
“Circles”
She’d love to read about the “Mother and Baby” sculpture, but she’s got to stumble over her children just to get to the placard.
“Cada Regalo Perfecto”
Though unprepared, this poet seeks to give the best gifts.
“Second Coming”
Some simple advice for William Butler Yeats.
“Afterlife”
“She looked old, and he was old…”
Essay
“Oil of Gladness”
What it meant to one sister to carry a vial of consecrated oil in her purse.
Fiction
“Babel”
A scholar in Babel wrestles with the loss of the old language.
“Count the Tear Stains on the Page”
Who do you talk to when you hate yourself?
“The Elder Who Wouldn’t Stop”
“He had seen too many companionships ruined over petty things. Had ruined a few of them himself. And this was not a mistake he was going to make again.”
Out of 200 submissions, a panel of judges has selected 32 semi-finalists. Out of these 32, twelve will be selected to compete in the final round for audience votes and the prize Kindle.
Today, we announced eight semi-finalists on Facebook and Twitter. As a recap, here they are:
Essay
“Without Compulsory Means”
One of the most famous passages in the Doctrine & Covenants calls for persuasion through long-suffering and love. But how long will a couple have to suffer as they try to gently persuade their three-year-old son with Down Syndrome to make a change he doesn’t want?
“The Gloaming”
There’s day and there’s night, but there’s also twilight. There’s the world of the living and the world of the dead: but what’s in between?
Fiction
“No Substitute for Chocolate”
Fathers’ Day brings calorie-laden sweets; Mother’s Day means flowers—and one more thing to take care of. That’s a cold, hard tradition one woman is determined to shake.
“Forgotten Memories”
If you could lock up memories that come unbidden, which would you choose to protect yourself from?
“In”
So, a man walks into the end of the world…and realizes he’ll have to improvise on that whole lamps-prepared-with-oil thing…
Poetry
“The Cordwainer”
What a Montevideo cobbler didn’t know he taught one sister missionary.
“The New Beginning Ghazal”
A slice of Eden’s story contemplated in an ancient Iranian poetic form.
“Stillborn”
Where does faith fit when the most beautiful plans melt away?