Strong at Broken Places: The League of Utah Writers Anthology Series

By LUW Press, C.W. Allen, Brad Blanchard and 26 more

"The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places."


- Ernest Hemingway


 

What does it mean to break, to fall, to fail, to suffer? When we emerge from life's trials, are we the same people we were before they began? In Strong at Broken Places, members from across the League of Utah Writers explore challenges and adversity, illuminating the hope, joy, and triumph of finding strength in the choices we make.

 

Featuring fiction, poetry, and personal essays by:

• C.W. Allen
• Brad Blanchard
• Lauren Brockmeier
• Jennifer L. Collins
• Linné Elizabeth
• Denis Feehan
• Joseph Gordon
• Kam Hadley
• RG Hughes
• Lorraine Jeffery
• Sean C. Jones
• Keyra Kristoffersen
• Andria Nerdin
• Whitney Oliver
• John M. Olsen
• Brenna Perry
• Steve Prentice
• Marie Robertson
• Talysa Sainz
• Amira Shea
• Linda F. Smith
• Peter Steele
• Marie Tollstrup
• Holly Voss
• Heidi Voss
• Johnny Worthen
• Ben Wright
• Bryan Young

Edited by the Utah Freelance Editors Chapter of the League of Utah Writers:

• Julia Allen
• Lia Huntington
• John M. Olsen
• Missy Oveson
• Aubrey Parry
• Talysa Sainz
• Elizabeth Suggs
• Amelé Zappitello

• Language: English
• Publisher: LUW Press
• Release date: Nov 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781735484129

Book preview

Strong at Broken PlacesTitle Page

Strong at Broken Places

The League of Utah Writers 2021 Anthology

Copyright © 2021 by the League of Utah Writers

Individual works are Copyright © 2021 by their respective authors

All rights reserved. The stories in this book are the property of their respective authors, in all media both physical and digital. No one, except the owners of this property, may reproduce, copy, or publish in any medium any individual story or part of this anthology without the express permission of the author of the work.

The contents of this book are fiction. Any resemblance to any actual person, place, or event is purely coincidental. Any opinions expressed by the authors are their own and do not reflect those of the editors or the League of Utah Writers.

Cover artwork © 2021 by LogoJazz

Cover design © 2021 by the League of Utah Writers

Edited by the Utah Freelance Editors Chapter of the League of Utah Writers

Formatted by FireDrake Designs | www.firedrakedesigns.com

Print ISBN: 978-1-7354841-1-2

Contents

Foreword

John M. Olsen, Past-President of the League of Utah Writers

Winter – A Sonnet

Linda F. Smith

Kintsugi

Holly Voss

The Contraband Sequence

Jennifer L. Collins

Ode to Wrinkles

Marie Tollstrup

I Love You Forever, No Matter What

Sean C. Jones

The War

Brenna Perry

Saturday Magic

C.W. Allen

Fresh Ripe Tomatoes

RG Hughes

Grit n: 1. unyielding courage 2. indomitable spirit

Joseph Gordon

A Half-Penny Will Do

Linné Elizabeth

Fixing the Bookshelf

Marie Robertson

Dishwasher

Amira Shea

Survival

Lorraine Jeffery

Reaching for the Light

Lauren Brockmeier

Once Upon a Psych Ward

Keyra Kristoffersen

Waves

Peter Steele

Living on Borrowed Time

John M. Olsen

Sticks and Stones

Ben Wright

Charlie

Andria Nerdin

A Table Set for Two

Brad Blanchard

Joan Dark

Denis Feehan

The Dirt Under Our Nails

Whitney Oliver

Midlife Crisis

Kam Hadley

Unconditional Love

Steve Prentice

Hardened Scars

Johnny Worthen

Starling

Heidi Voss

Sister Saints

Bryan Young

Titanium Scars

Talysa Sainz

Foreword

John M. Olsen, Past-President of the League of Utah Writers

The theme for this anthology came about after bouncing ideas around within the Executive Committee of the League of Utah Writers. It comes from an Earnest Hemingway quote from A Farewell to Arms: The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. It’s a nice thought if you pull it out of the brutal context expressed by that scene within the book.

I wanted to mirror that concept of pulling a positive message out of a difficult context and steer the anthology toward positive, uplifting messages of change triggered by adversity and trial. Many of you faced new challenges in 2020 and 2021, and we often have no choice over the adversities we face. The one thing we can always control is our response to our trials, and I wanted to emphasize the positive side of human nature as we put out our call for prose and poetry.

Those who submitted entries did not disappoint. They came through with a range of concepts, approaching the theme from many different directions. Within this anthology are many examples of positive responses in the face of trials; messages of hope and progress with the knowledge that we need not fear the future. The authors within this volume don’t shy away from describing challenges, but they also bring out the hope, joy, and triumph of becoming strong or helping others to become strong through our choices.

The idea of being strong at broken places shares many parallels with Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold-infused inlay. What would otherwise be thrown in the garbage is turned into art through careful repair that emphasizes the new strength rather than hiding it. We have two entries in this volume related to Kinsugi for good reason. We are never the same after besting a trial.

My hope for you as you read this volume is that you not only enjoy the writing, but that you gain a stronger conviction and determination to follow that same ideal of gaining strength in your broken places. Recognize your strengths and their origins. They are part of who you are. These victories should be celebrated just as the words of this volume celebrate change, strength, and the best side of human nature.

---

John M. Olsen

Past-President of the League of Utah Writers

Strong at Broken Places

"The world breaks every one and afterward

many are strong at the broken places."

Ernest Hemingway

Winter – A Sonnet

Linda F. Smith

The winter sun’s obscured behind the clouds

And winds blow briskly over field and plain.

The frozen hillocks wait for coming spring

When farmers plant the earth again with grain.

---

A time for contemplation and for peace,

To think of days gone by throughout my life,

I rest inside my cottage by the fire

And ponder how to put aside all strife.

---

Ambition of successors pushed me out,

Oblivious to aid that I could give,

Uncaring for the hurt that they imposed—

Emerita is now the role I live.

---

But sure as spring and summer follow cold,

I’ll flourish yet in life as I grow old.

Linda F. Smith has published dozens of works—all academic articles in law journals! Since she retired from her job as a law professor at the University of Utah S.J. Quinney College of Law, she has been devoting herself to more engaging writing—short stories, picture books, middle grade books, and poetry. She received her B.A. with honors in English from The Ohio State University many decades ago and has more recently studied writing at the University of Utah and Utah Valley University.

Kintsugi

Holly Voss

When Calla entered my shop, her soul cracks were already deeper than ninety percent of the folks who walked through my door and more numerous than anyone I’d ever seen. The light pouring over her rich dark skin and into the world was nearly enough to blind me. Such was the curse of my second sight. Even so, her soul-light had that blue-green tinge of the uncertain and skeptical, so I refrained from saying anything intrusive. It would not be heard as intended.

Instead of approaching me immediately, Calla wandered the shop. Each item she touched—potion vials, informative texts, healing crystals—shimmered with the light her soul left behind. It rested like teal glitter on the shelves and trinkets and floor. It was going to be hell getting it all tidied up when she left. I could leave it, of course. None of my regulars had enough second sight to see it. Still, it would annoy me to leave the shop messy, and none of my regulars needed someone’s soul seepage to get into their cracks. The only saving grace was that she was only touching the wares that were visible to all. She didn’t seem to see the items cloaked to those that weren’t trained in their second sight.

I waited. I watched her wander. I held my tongue.

Even after so many years, there was still a quiet roar of uncertainty in my mind. Holding my tongue wasn’t my usual way, but it was the only way to deal with a new customer.

In the end, Calla found her words. She approached the register and said, Are you Sophie the Soul Spinner?

That was a new name. Not inaccurate, but new. The stories out in the world must have morphed since the last time I had made it there. I hadn’t moved from this spot in over twenty years, had lived here for almost four centuries, and would live here until I could train an apprentice and pass on. Yet, for all that I never changed, the names they called me always did, adjusting to fit the times. I quite liked this one, actually. It had a certain ring to it.

If that is who you need me to be.

Calla didn’t look convinced. But who are you really?

I am whoever you need me to be, my dear.

That answer didn’t meet her standards. Be straight with me.

I haven’t been straight a day in my life.

That got a smile out of her. I can’t say I have either.

I know. That’s how you found your way here.

I could see she was desperate to ask for more, but a single raised eyebrow was enough to deter her.

Now, what is it that I can do for you?

She bit her lip and looked away.

Everyone who finds their way here has a reason. I am certain that you are no different.

When she turned back to me, the soul crack along her left cheek was shining brightly enough that my instinct was to look away. I didn’t. This was her reason for coming here, and I wouldn’t make her feel ashamed of it.

When she still didn’t speak, I leaned forward. I’ll need your honest answer.

You can see it, can’t you?

You’ll have to be more specific.

The light. The way it spills out everywhere. Her voice trembled as she spoke. I can’t control it.

You’re not meant to control it.

Then why am I the only one that can’t keep it inside?

I hid my surprise. If she could see soul light that clearly, not just her own but others’ as well, she must have a stronger second sight than I had expected.

Her tears weren’t enough to convince me to give her all the answers. The journey for the truth was part of the journey of healing. But I could give her hints. I think you already know the answer to that question.

Calla turned away, wringing her hands. Each motion pulled her soul cracks open a little wider, opened up her soul to a little more hurt. The continued stranglehold soul cracks had on the world kept me in business, but it was a fate I would never wish on anyone.

I let her pace for a solid minute before I brought her back to the moment. Calla.

Her head whipped around so she could meet my eyes. How do you know my name?

Your soul is spilling itself all over my shop; of course, I know your name.

She bowed her head. I’m sorry about that.

You needn’t be. It’s what I expect when I have visitors. Not to this extent, perhaps, but she didn’t need to know that.

Do you often have visitors?

We’re not here to discuss my shop, dear. We’re here to discuss your ailment.

Calla’s soul light shifted shades, now shining bright red. Anger, with a hint of fear. Then I am ill.

You have more soul cracks than most, but it is you who determines if you are ill or not.

What about you? she asked, her voice sharp.

What about me?

Do you have soul cracks?

We all do. It’s only ever a question of how many we have, how deep they go, and how we tend to them once we know they’re there.

Questions danced behind her eyes, but she only asked one. The one that mattered. How do we tend to them?

There are three main methods. One is what most people do, and what you have been doing: ignoring the soul loss that comes from the spillover from cracks like yours. You already know the side effects of that. The second is to seal the cracks and prevent any spillover. The sealing can be done with any manner of soul seal, though the type you choose can affect the longevity and comfort that comes from the sealing.

Calla’s eyes were fierce as she looked at me. And the third way?

The third way is to tend to them. Plant them with soul flowers and let them grow to fill the spaces left behind. To protect the spaces where we have fallen apart and let them grow to be the best that they can be.

Calla went quiet. She stared down at her hands, and I wondered how much she could see with her second sight. It had taken me months of training to learn to see more than just the slivers of light that people let the world see. Calla, though. She seemed different.

She looked at me, her deep brown eyes captivating in a way that only old, aching souls could be. Which would you choose?

I have already chosen.

Calla squinted her eyes. As they widened in surprise, I realized she could see much more than I gave her credit for. She might even have more potential sight than I had at her age. She was not the first person with potential to walk into my shop, but she seemed as though she might be more open to discussion than the others had been.

Oh. They’re beautiful.

I resisted reaching out to touch the Lisianthus flowers on my left shoulder, a nervous habit that the matron had never quite managed to break me of. Thank you.

Calla sensed the motion regardless, and she looked at my hands. She took in my calloused fingertips and the patchy, wrinkled skin of my hands with the kind of curiosity that only a chosen soul could manage. She did have potential, but when she set her jaw and her soul light shifted to the deep navy of conviction, I saw that I had overestimated her potential willingness. She looked back up at me. I knew what she was going to say before she said it.

Option two.

I took a careful cleansing breath to keep myself standing tall. I’d said too much. But then, that was how I’d always been. The matron had never managed to break me of that habit, either. You understand that the memories associated with each crack may be affected when we seal them.

Calla didn’t hesitate. That’s fine. I don’t want those memories anyway.

Very well, then. I gestured to the wall of soul seal along the south side of the shop. Choose your seal.

You aren’t going to tell me which one is the best?

"Your soul already knows what it needs.