I am always surprised when my garden yields something. The beans surprised me this year, because every other year when I’ve planted beans they got eaten by bugs before they had a chance to grow. This year I planted two packages of seeds, inside my garden beds and also in the dirt along the edge. I planted beans along my outside fence too, even though I knew they would be overshadowed by the vines that grow there.

I’ve never really liked fresh beans. I hate the way they squeak against my teeth, and I hate their rubbery texture. But beans had never grown in my garden before, so I wasn’t worried.

Except this year, they actually did. The picking I did yesterday was the third picking, and there are still more beans out there, thin curled ones waiting to plump up, white flowers waiting to ripen into fruit. I have discovered that if I overcook beans, so they are tender and nonsqueaky, I don’t dislike them so much, so I’ve cooked and frozen them in anticipation of a beanless winter. But I am still baffled by abundance. Why is it that some plants grow wildly, and the tomatoes I nursed through late frosts have a few anemic fruit, but nothing like the swollen baskets I picked last year?

I’m sure there are gardening answers for my questions, the first one being that my little garden is an afterthought, and I don’t invest the time in it that I could. If I were out there every day, I would know the plants better. I would see what’s been eating my cabbage, I would notice that the pumpkin vine needed to be trained back inside the fence. I know the garden would be better if I gave it more.

But I’m still astonished by what it yields in spite of my benign neglect, in spite of the way I plant the seeds, turn on the automatic watering system, and then forget about them. Not enough to live through a winter, but enough to enjoy now, and enough to bring the taste of August to my January dinners.

How’s your garden this summer? How does random abundance surprise you? What in your life yields more than you imagined it would?

Related posts:

1. Plants and Productivity
2. My Least Favorite Primary Song
3. The Dirt and the Glory

I don’t fault my teenage self for my interpretation, but I think there is much more depth to standing as a witness than I realized. Context is everything:

Mosiah 18: 8-9, Alma the Elder preparing people for baptism at the Waters of Mormon:

[A]nd now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light;
9 Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that ye may have eternal life—

The phrase “stand as witnesses of God” is the culmination of a logical progression of thought, not an isolated phrase. First we bear one another’s burdens, we mourn with those that mourn, we comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and by so doing we stand as witnesses of God. Not in the way I thought of as a teenager, witnesses of good standards (with a touch of moral superiority in there too, I confess), but in the same way Christ witnesses to us of His love: with His stripes, we are healed. When someone enters into their own place of grief to mourn with us, that act of shared mourning witnesses of God’s love, and heals.

I learned this recently during the aftermath of my miscarriage, when I was overwhelmed by the many people who shared my grief, who witnessed of God’s love to me. I felt a deep determination that I would be like them, that I would be that kind of witness. I am still trying to figure out how. I do all right if my house is clean (is that silly?) but the more cluttered my life is, the less I’m able to step outside of it and find ways to mourn, to comfort, to witness of God. I’m slowly figuring it out, though, reminding myself that “at all times, and in all things, and in all places,” in addition to looking outside my home, also means “be a witness of God’s love to your kids around dinnertime when everyone is cranky, at bedtime when they don’t want to get ready, when you’re trying to leave for church and someone can’t find their shoes.”

I want my children to keep the commandments, from the deeper empowering covenants we make, to all the rules I intended to witness of as a teenager. But I believe that the best way to be a witness of the beauty of God’s laws is to also witness of His deep, abiding, eternal love.

Who has been a witness of God’s love for you? And what did you think “stand as witnesses of God” meant when you were a teenager? How did you apply that then, and how do you apply it now?

Related posts:

1. That They May Be Light
2. Be Still My Soul
3. The answer, I believe, is a resounding “NO!”

P.S. Inasmuch as your vocation will in future be of a public nature, I will give you this little piece of advice, at which I hope you will not take umbrage . . . above all, improve your grammar . . . No man who is a public speaker, however intelligent he may be, has, or can have half the influence that he might have if he be found deficient in the language he uses, especially if it be his native one. I will give you an example. Why did I just say, “if he be found,” and “if it be his native one?” Because there is a contingency expressed in both cases. Nothing is more common than to use the verb is in both these places, and nothing is more incorrect. You might as well say they was.

I recognized this as a nineteenth century version of a lecture I have given myself. Someplace in my personal genome there must be a Word Awareness Gene, for although my grammar and spelling are not nearly as precise as John Solomon Fullmer’s, I do have a few things I’m picky about. I have been known, on more than one occasion, to be just as benevolently pedantic as he.

But word awareness is much more than grammar and spelling. When I hear a beautiful turn of phrase, something familiar like “I am a part of all that I have met” or something completely fresh:

There are edges,
knife, cliff, blade, sanity,
but nothing like walking the lip
from here to there.
(read the full text here)

the words heal and restore me.

I think, reading over his careful prose, that John Solomon Fullmer also felt the same sense of delight, not just the slightly superior feeling that comes from noticing a mistake. The best part of loving language is not nit-picking at apostrophes, but basking in the pleasure of eloquence.

What quirky traits have you inherited? And feel free to share with us your favorite well-written phrases.

Related posts:

1. Oh, the Bomb
2. Sticks and stones
3. I Get by With A Little Love from my Friends

When I met my husband, his parents were on the brink of financial ruin. His mother’s fragile health (complications from severe diabetes, including a kidney transplant and an uninsured pancreas transplant) led to deep indebtedness, and in spite of generous help from family and the Church, things did not look good. My father-in-law’s health had also plummeted, and he was no longer able to work. Eventually they lost their home, and after much prayer and tears declared bankruptcy. This was a terrible, humiliating time for them–they had been blessed in the past to pay all their bills eventually, sometimes in miraculous ways, but although they continued to pay a faithful tithe, no windows opened.

I have heard many windows of heaven tithing stories, and they are real and true, but I have often missed the rest of Malachi. Here’s what it says right after the Lord gives the open-the-windows-of-heaven promise.

13 Your words have been stout against me, saith the Lord. Yet ye say, What have we spoken so much against thee?
14 Ye have said, It is vain to serve God: and what profit is it that we have kept his ordinance, and that we have walked mournfully before the Lord of hosts?
15 And now we call the proud happy; yea, they that work wickedness are set up; yea, they that tempt God are even delivered.
16 Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another: and the Lord hearkened, and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name.
17 And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels; and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him.
18 Then shall ye return, and discern between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not.

I’m going to parse this a little. “It is vain to serve God,” is something that is easy to say when the correspondence of God’s blessings to my obedience does not match what I think it should.

“We call the proud happy, yea, they that work wickedness are set up, yea they that tempt God are even delivered.” There are a lot of dishonest people out there who seem to be doing pretty well for themselves in spite of their behavior. They might be happy, delivered from the bad economy, set up in a mansion, and they have not paid tithing or kept the commandments.

But the next verses say it all to me: “A book of remembrance was written before him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name. And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels; and I will spare them… Then shall ye return, and discern between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not.”

The ultimate blessings of tithing are not of this life or this world, but are eternal. Those who pay shall be the Lord’s in the day when he makes up his jewels.

What happens to us back here on earth, though? It’s hard to be living in difficult economic times and hear the miraculous tithing stories and want one, without getting it.

My in-laws’ financial situation forced them to move in with us within a couple of years of our marriage. Having them in my home has been a gift for my family. I didn’t know them well, but we became dear friends. When my mother-in-law died two years after they moved in I was so grateful for the time we had shared together. I would never have gotten to know her and love her as well if their financial circumstances had not forced them to live with me. I am still blessed by my father-in-law’s presence in our home. For my husband’s parents, paying tithing was not an insulation from calamity. What I believe it did, though, is help all things, even bankruptcy, work together for good.

I love the basket-of-food tithing stories; they make me misty-eyed every time. Even more inspiring, though, are the stories of the noble people who continue to pay it in spite of job loss and health expenses and the economy. I believe that they will be among the Lord’s jewels even if times are hard right now. Sometimes the only immediate blessing of paying tithing is to stand at peace in the presence of God. It is not easy, but it is enough.

Related posts:

1. Having a Moment
2. My Christmas Report
3. Your Bum is Showing

Barbara Bishop has an undergraduate degree in English from the University of Utah, a PhD in English from UCLA, and a master’s in counseling psychology from Pacifica Graduate Institute. She taught English, using a curriculum that combined dreams and literature, for seven years at Marymount College in Palos Verdes, California. In addition to her work as a therapist, she is also writing a book about addiction dreams. She is married to Brent Pace and has three beautiful boys, about whom she dreams regularly.

As research for her book on addiction dreams, Barbara is seeking dreams from addicts and recovered addicts. If you have a family member who is an addict, she is interested in your dreams as well. Please email me –emilymilner at byu dot net–if you have an addiction-related dream you would like to share with her.

When did you first begin to pay attention to your dreams and what they might mean?
I first became interested in dreams while I was writing my dissertation for my PhD in English. I had a nagging thought, which I tried to ignore, that writing literary criticism wasn’t quite my bliss. I loved literature and I loved teaching literature, but I didn’t enjoy the lit crit industry. It seemed like literary critics wrote to other literary critics, and argued with and against their particular readings, and it seemed rather pointless. I had been writing down my dreams, trying to figure out why I was having these second thoughts now, when I was nearly finished with my dissertation. My sister invited me to attend a weekend workshop on dreams, and I immediately saw that studying dreams and writing about dreams had more relevance to the general population than writing literary criticism. Dream interpretation uses some of the same skills as literary interpretation, and dreams are as intriguing as literature. But everyone dreams, and each person’s dreams are tailor-made metaphorical stories about the dreamer’s life. I loved how the dreams could show my life in a symbolic way.

Also, I had interviewed for a teaching job which my friend, who worked at that school had assured me I would get. The interviews went well. I gave a presentation that went well. And I left fairly confident that I would receive a job offer. My dreams, however, basically told me that I would not get the job, long before the notice came. That intrigued me. How did my dreams know? The dreams prepared me, so that I was not as devastated as I might have been.

What led you to using dreams in your writing classes and therapy sessions?
I used dreams when I worked as a therapist because I found it easier to diagnose and figure out what was really going on with clients. Clients typically won’t tell a therapist everything; they don’t consciously conceal; but they wait to see if they can trust the person before spilling all of the “dirty laundry.” Dreams will get to the truth sooner than a usual therapy session. Especially when clients only have a limited number of sessions because of managed care, sometimes getting to the real reasons for needing therapy quickly are important. I found I could diagnose and formulate a treatment plan for clients after listening to a dream or two. Not all clients wanted to discuss dreams.

After I had worked as a therapist for a number of years, I missed teaching and decided to return to academia. I wanted to see if I could incorporate dreams into writing classes. I was interested in bringing information about dreams to a larger population than those who seek therapy. Everyone dreams every night, but more people do not take advantage of the information they receive from their dreams, usually because they do not know what to do with them. Universities typically do not teach classes on dreams, and this is a terrible mistake, in my opinion. Paying attention to one’s dreams could help students with everything from career decisions to problems with roommates and substance abuse. I thought that teaching a dream course could show students several methodologies to make their dreams work for them. In addition, I thought writing about dreams would be a way to make a writing course fun and not simply one of those required courses that students hate.

One of the things that frustrated me when I taught writing at UCLA was that the writing texts, which typically had contemporary essays, did not focus around a core subject. They had several. Typically the texts were organized around themes–education in America, race relations, feminism, the American dream, etc. When I became interested in dreams, I thought it would be fun (finally) to teach a writing class focused on one subject rather than several. And it was. I began teaching part-time at a private Catholic school, and eventually full-time.

I experimented with different texts and essay questions. I had joined the International Association for the Study of Dreams, and at their annual conferences they always have workshops on teaching dreams in the classroom. I incorporated many of the ideas from the annual conferences into my classes. I also had one of my favorite dream researchers, Kelly Bulkeley, come and speak at the college. One year we had a “Dream Club” where students who weren’t in my classes could come and discuss their dreams over lunch. I gave presentations on dreams after I attended conferences, and we even held a regional dream conference at the college in 2008. After teaching dreams in the classroom for several years, I am more than ever convinced that education about dreams should be a core subject in every university.

What is your favorite dream reference guide or website and why? Or what do you recommend to people interested in understanding dreams and dream symbolism better?
I have several favorite dream reference books. I like all of Kelly Bulkeley’s books. The text I used in my writing class, “An Introduction to the Study of Dreams,” by Kelly Bulkeley is a good introduction for people who want basic information. The International Association for the Study of Dreams has a website with several links. That’s also a good place to find everything from introductory to more specialized information about dreams. I also like Jeremy Taylor’s books on dreams. I have attended several of his workshops, which also provide good introductory information on dreams. Robert Hoss (another IASD member) has a methodology for working with one’s dreams alone, and I always taught my students his interpretive method. It is simple to learn, and good for people to know who do not feel comfortable sharing dreams with others. However, my bias is that dreams should be shared!

When someone has a memorable or unsettling dream, what is the best way to understand it better?
The best way to understand an unsettling dream is to tell three best friends, a spouse, a neighbor, your mother or father–people whom you trust. One student told me she would call her parents and tell them her dreams before she started writing her paper. Her parents didn’t know anything about dream interpretation, but they knew their daughter very well, and were therefore able to understand the metaphors in their daughter’s dreams. People who know you well will often intuitively understand your dreams. And just talking about them out loud will help you better hear what the dream is trying to tell you.

Anything else you would like our readers to understand about dreams that you have not already mentioned?
The more you pay attention to your dreams, the more your dreams will pay attention to you! If you show that you are interested in your dreams by writing them down, and by discussing them with a trusted friend or two, you dreams will gradually provide personal spiritual revelation. They can aid you in your creative endeavors, in your church chores, your career and family relationships.
***
Thank you, Barbara, for taking the time to answer! In the comments, I would love to hear your response to Barbara’s fabulous article. What have you learned as you pay attention to your dreams?

Related posts:

1. To sleep, perchance to dream
2. Segullah: Gifts of the Spirit
3. Sam and Sally go to the Bishop

Romance:
Counting the Cost, by Liz Adair. She dedicated her win to her uncle, who died a few days before being baptized, and helped influence her mother’s decision to join the Church.
Mystery/Suspense:
Methods of Madness, by Stephanie Black. She was so shocked when they called her name. It was cute. Methods of Madness was one of her hardest books to write, and she felt grateful that people enjoyed it and voted for it. Also, she has a really cool speaking voice.
Historical Fiction:
The Last Waltz, by G. G. Vandagriff.-She has been writing this book for decades! Wow. To see it published and honored this way, especially after her life-threatening illness, was wonderful.
Youth fiction:
The Chosen One, by Carol Lynch Williams. Because her book is about a girl escaping polygamy, people have asked her “What will the Mormons think of it?” And she herself wondered what they would think of it. She was humbled and grateful to receive the Whitney, evidence that the Mormons like her book.
Speculative Fiction:
Servant of a Dark God, by John Brown-He was not able to attend, due to a death in the family, but had Robison Wells read an email saying that if he actually won, the events in Revelation would be shortly upon us. I wished that he could have been there.
General Fiction:
Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet, by Jamie Ford–Ford was not able to attend the awards.
Best Novel by a New Author (tie):
I am Not a Serial Killer, by Dan Wells-Dan writes horror. Why did Mormons vote for him? He was very funny. He said that horror was the most moral genre, because of the way it addressed questions of good and evil.
Gravity vs. the Girl, by Riley Noehren-She was so surprised and happy to win. She didn’t know how the LDS writing community found out about her little book, but she was glad they did.
Best Novel of the Year:
In the Company of Angels, by David Farland-Farland had a dream about a handcart pioneer, who told him to write this book. He knew it would have to be self-published, and he might go bankrupt, but he did it anyway. This was my favorite book, and my favorite moment of the night.

I hope my summaries give a little taste of what the awards were like–I foolishly forgot to bring paper so I scribbled my notes on the back of an envelope my husband scrounged in his suitcoat. Again, it was great to be there and put authors’ faces to all the books I’ve read over the last few months. I was impressed by the spirit there, and by the desire to improve the quality of LDS literature by honoring the best books.
***
One thing I hear a lot when I talk about reading Whitney finalists is “How can you read so many books in such a short time?” I do read pretty fast. But this year I had a head start, because last year I tried to notice which books I thought would be finalists and read accordingly. LDS Publisher has a list of all the Whitney-eligible fiction published in 2010, and she updates it continually. From that list, I read books by authors who have been finalists before. Those are pretty safe bets, and even if they aren’t finalists again this year, they are fun to read. I also follow blogs of LDS authors and notice when they have a book coming out. This year, for example, I’m planning to read Mr. Monster (Dan Wells; out in the UK), Band of Sisters (Annette Lyon), Courting Miss Lancaster (Sarah Eden), The Way of Kings (Brandon Sanderson; it’s not out yet, though), Paranormalcy (Kiersten White, not out yet), Devil’s Food Cake (Josi Kilpack) and Fablehaven 5 (Brandon Mull), among others. It’s a good way to get a head start on Whitney reading now. Let me know in the comments what other Whitney-eligible books you are looking forward to this year.
***
This post is already too long, but I also attended the LDS Storymakers writing conference, and I need to mention what a wonderful event it was. LDS Storymakers provides classes for all writing levels, from beginner to almost-but-not-quite-published to published-locally-now-want-to-submit-nationally. There was a great atmosphere of collaboration and kindness. I attended sessions by Laura Rennert, an agent for Andrea Brown Literary, on effective query letters; Janette Rallison, on effective revising; Elana Johnson, on query writing; Jeff Savage, on character development; Aprillynne Pike, on writing for the market; and panel discussions with Krista Marino, an editor at Delacourt, and Nephele Tempest, another agent. I could have attended sessions by many other great writers as well, including our own Sharlee Glenn, but I ran out of time. I also went to boot camp, and got great feedback on my work in progress. And I met some fabulous people I have only met before online.

Two other writing conferences I’m planning on attending soon: the WIFYR conference, in June, (formerly BYUWIFYR, now at a new venue) if stars and planets align, and of course the Segullah writer’s retreat. Conferences always bring out all of my nerves and insecurities, about myself and my writing and even my hair, and what eases that is meeting new people and getting over myself. So if you see me there, come say hi!
***
Finally, all you LDS writers of speculative fiction, go check out the submissions guidelines for the Monsters and Mormons anthology! This is one I’m really looking forward to reading. I loved the speculative elements in some of LDS Publisher’s Book of Mormon story contest entries, and I think Monsters and Mormons is a great concept. You have until October 1 to submit, so that’s plenty of time to come up with a great idea and revise, revise, revise.
***
Congratulations again to all the Whitney winners and finalists! In the comments I’d love to hear which Whitney finalists you have enjoyed most, which books you think deserve a shout out although they did not win, and also which 2010 Whitney eligible books you’re planning to read.

Related posts:

1. Mother in Me on Whitney Awards Auction
2. Whitney 2010 Nominees and Almost-Nominees
3. Whitney Award Predictions

And the ultrasounds:
I. Seven weeks
Only because I’m spotting, the doctor sends me to have an ultrasound. I climb onto the table and shift my jeans down to my C-section scar, the line that says I have done this before. She squirts warm jelly on me and moves her wand to find the baby. “See the flashing there?” she says. “That’s the heartbeat. Looks good.” She measures it, pronounces it normal, and types “B-A-B-Y” on the screen. She prints me out a picture.

I tuck the picture into my planner. The picture makes the two pink lines on my stick into an actual baby. I am starting to believe in this pregnancy, and it feels good.

II. Eleven weeks
I’m back. More spotting, and no heartbeat. “No heartbeat at eleven weeks?” the technician says. “Don’t worry. That’s early enough they don’t always hear a heartbeat. We’ll find it.”

I tuck my jeans down. My belly hasn’t stretched out into the circle of a full baby yet. It’s jiggly and slack from three pregnancies. I’m looking forward to having it taut and round.

She finds my uterus and asks “How far along are you?” She is trying to be casual. I look on the monitor to see what she sees, the ultrasound’s dark and coded world of shadows. And there it is, a small circle in the middle of another. It should have winked at me, that shadow. Its heart should be the brightest light on the screen, flashing and alive.

The weight of the darkened circle hits me in my empty gut. I try to think of all the people I knew who had seen the same thing. Other women have been here before. Or maybe they found out a different way: not from losing the expected heartbeat, but from a sudden rush of blood. It could be worse. I could have woken up at three in the morning cramping, and felt all the life slip out from me. Is it worse to see death on the screen, or to be surprised by it in the night? Does it matter which one is worse? Both of them are real.

III. Post D&C
One more time, I’m staring at the screen. There is a long wedge where a baby ought to be growing, and a fuzzy line at the top, from my C-section scar. My hollow body. The technician is embarrassed that she didn’t notice me crying sooner. She hands me a box of tissues and I wipe the tears, and look at the wedge.
***

I wrote a poem called Ultrasound when I was pregnant with my youngest child. There’s a line that says “We both await release/ the pain and freedom of an empty womb.” I have had that line rolling in my heart ever since I saw my own empty womb. There is freedom in the emptiness: I’m free of nausea, free of heartburn, free to sleep through the night, free of high blood pressure and gestational diabetes and the need to rearrange my house and my life. But I have never understood, until now, how much the pain swallows up the freedom.

What dissipates the pain is the line of women bringing me gifts. Gifts of prayers, gifts of tears, gifts of understanding. Sometimes the gift of letting me talk, sometimes letting me not talk. When my friends remember their pain so that they can ease mine, that is a gift. When they mourn with me, whether or not they’ve been through this particular loss, that is a gift.

At my door and now in my soul, there is a line of merciful women, practicing the healer’s art.

Related posts:

1. Weak Words Made Strong
2. Going For Goals (without the annoying drone of the vuvuzela)
3. The Case for Shopping

Space constraints prevent me from saying more than a line or two about each book. For more detailed and insightful reviews, check out Shelah’s blog.

So, without further ado, our favorites:
Romance:
Emily: All the Stars in Heaven. Michelle Paige Holmes tells a great story, more suspense than romance, but the romantic elements were strong and compelling. I read it instead of making dinner. Not so happy for my family, but a great indicator of a good book. I’m also giving a shoutout to Santa Maybe, which was a fun read.
Shelah: Going into this experience, I never thought that one of my favorites would be a romance. But Counting the Cost is much more than just a romance. It has a rich, western setting, compelling characters, and a story that’s about working at a marriage and not just riding off into the sunset to live happily ever after. Adair based the story on her parents’ courtship, and she doesn’t shrink from accurately portraying a hard-living cowboy’s life, and also writes well about the couple’s burgeoning conversion to the church.
Emily: Much as I enjoyed All the Stars in Heaven, and found Counting the Cost more work to appreciate (the main female character bugged me), I am a sucker for gorgeous, lyrical writing, and Counting the Cost was beautifully written.

Consensus: Counting the Cost.

Mystery/Suspense:
Shelah: I’ve read enough mysteries by now that I’m rarely surprised when the killer is revealed, but Josi Kilpack’s Lemon Tart kept me guessing again and again. Kilpack’s writing was also smart and tight, and her characters deep enough to surprise me too.
Emily: I agree with Shelah on Lemon Tart as my favorite. I loved Sadie, the detective character, and I enjoyed her strong, consistent voice. I also want to mention Altered State as a book that felt fresh and unique among the mystery finalists. It had an engaging scientific mind-control plot, and kept me turning pages.
Consensus: Lemon Tart.

Youth fiction:
Emily: The Chosen One. Wrenching, lyrical story of a thirteen-year-old girl escaping polygamy. I loved this book. The ending jarred me a little, but overall this was exceptional writing.
Runner up: Princess of the Midnight Ball. I love a good fairy tale retelling, and this was a great reworking of the 12 Dancing Princesses.
Shelah: I’m with Emily on this one. Deceptively simple writing The Chosen One was both direct and haunting, and Williams did a wonderful job getting into the mind of Kyra, and showing the challenges of life on a polygamous compound.
Consensus: The Chosen One

Speculative fiction:
Shelah: If I had to choose one book among the thirty that was the freshest and most fun to read, the decision would be easy, it’s definitely Dan Wells’s I am Not a Serial Killer. I couldn’t put the book down, and can’t wait for my kids to grow up a little so I can force them to read it too. But I also really enjoyed Brandon Sanderson’s ambitious, complicated, epic Warbreaker, and that’s saying a lot for someone like me, who normally shuns sci-fi and secondary creation.
Emily: Do I really have to choose? Dang, I don’t know. I am Not a Serial Killer is creepy and gory but the writing is beautiful and John Wayne Cleaver, the teenage boy fighting against his inner serial killer, broke my heart. But Warbreaker is the one I read on Brandon Sanderson’s website till two in the morning when I broke my leg, and I think it’s brilliant. I loved its romance and satisfying ending.
Consensus: Serial or Warbreaker for the win? Warbreaker wins out. By a nose.

Historical Fiction:
Emily: In the Company of Angels, David Farland’s self-published story of the Martin and Willie handcart company. It’s honest, it’s well-researched, it’s beautiful and sad and holy and all the things that our best pioneer stories have. I’m recommending it for my book club next year. A great work.
Shelah: I’m with Emily on this one. I especially loved the way that Farland approached the story from the point of view of three very different members of the handcart company, as well as the way that he didn’t gloss over some of the harder parts of the historical account of the story.
Consensus: In the Company of Angels

General fiction:
Emily: Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet, the story of a Japanese internment camp and a lost love. My book club loved it, and I did too. I also really enjoyed Gravity vs. the Girl, about a girl haunted by past versions of herself. I am that girl.
Shelah: My heart wants to vote for Jonathan Langford’s moving No Going Back, the story of a gay Mormon teen who struggles between his desire to stay faithful to a faith he has a testimony of and a sexual orientation he can’t deny. But my brain forces my nod to go to Jamie Ford’s Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet for the quality of its writing.
Consensus: Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet

Best Novel by a New Author:
Emily: I am not a Serial Killer. See above comments. It’s an impressive book.
Shelah: Totally. It’s Twilight for boys (and girls, but boys can read this without hiding it inside a magazine), with writing chops to match the storytelling.

Consensus: Serial Killer

Best Novel of the Year:
Shelah: The Chosen One
Emily: In the Company of Angels
Consensus: This is a really tough call. The Chosen One has stunning writing. Spare, beautiful, haunting. But I love it when people write about Mormons and really get it right, and In the Company of Angels is one of my favorites ever.

We’ve got our opinions, but we’d love to hear yours, too. Which of the Whitney finalists were your favorites? What sounds interesting to you? Do you plan to read any of these? What other books by LDS authors did you enjoy this year? Also, if you live in Utah Valley, the Orem library has purchased many of these books, including some harder-to-find independently published ones, so you can hop on over and see whether you agree with us or not. Either way, it’s great to see the increasing excellence of LDS writing. Congratulations and good luck to all the finalists!

Related posts:

1. In the Company of Angels
2. LDS Storymakers, Whitney Awards, Monsters and Mormons
3. Hooray! It’s a giveaway!

Farland tells the story of the Willie Handcart company from the perspectives of Captain Willie; Eliza Gadd, a non-Mormon traveling with her Mormon husband and family; and Baline Mortensen, a young girl sent from Denmark to travel in the company without her parents.

I love the way that David Farland embraces the moral complexities inherent in Willie handcart story. Good leaders make foolish choices, other good people follow them anyway, and many good people die as a result. Farland doesn’t whitewash any of the players in this story, but he is merciful in his characterization as well. I came away with a greater appreciation of their strengths because I was allowed to see their weaknesses too. For example, Captain Willie tells the pioneers that if they have faith, God will protect them from the elements and preserve their lives. But because I know the ending, his hopeful words are laced with irony and pain. As the story progresses he serves the people of his company selflessly, and comes to realize and weep over his share of responsibility for their suffering.

I am still thinking about this book. I’m wondering about why miracles happen, and when they happen. The handcart pioneers were promised miracles by Captain Willie and by Franklin D. Richards, and some of them happened. Not enough to prevent horrific suffering, though. Not enough to keep many from dying. And yet most of them emerged on the other side not bitter about the bad counsel that led them to journey, or resentful of their own faith, but grateful for the miracles they did see: the arrival of the rescue party just in time, the angels who kept them going at the very end, through the wintery Wyoming mountains.

I don’t believe that God wanted this to happen. I don’t think He desired so many of His saints to suffer. In the Book of Mormon the Ammonites are willing to be massacred again, and yet the Lord tells Ammon, “Get this people out of the land, that they perish not.” While He allows suffering, and honors it, I don’t think He delights in it. I think the tragedy was a result of eager, naive human error, not divine design.

But He has consecrated the sacrifice of these handcart pioneers to great good, because we still remember and honor their journey. Farland’s book is a powerful, honest account. It is exactly the kind of story that overcomes my pioneer story fatigue and makes me feel grateful that the handcart pioneers are part of our Mormon heritage.

In the Company of Angels is available through Farland’s website. There’s a Kindle edition at Amazon as well. I have also requested it at the Orem library, which has been great at getting many other Whitney finalists, so I hope it arrives there soon. Sensitivity rating: a very little mild swearing, a couple of gory descriptions, reference to rape. Nothing that felt gratuitous to me.

Related posts:

1. Segullah’s 2009 Whitney Favorites
2. LDS Storymakers, Whitney Awards, Monsters and Mormons
3. Whitney 2010 Nominees and Almost-Nominees

You can click on the above link to see this year’s finalists. But, having read more fiction by LDS authors this year than I ever have before, I read the list and thought “That one’s great. So is this one. But what about… and what about…” I have a list of books that I think deserve to be Whitney finalists. As William Morris says here, in any awards process some titles are going to be left out. That doesn’t stop me from mentioning a few that I feel deserve some attention.

Two caveats: 1-I read a lot of youth fiction, so that’s where most of my recommendations come from. What this means, though, is that there are probably plenty of books in other categories that deserve to be in a “What about this one list” that I won’t mention. If you’re aware of any of them, please post away in the comments.

2-This list does not intend to disparage or take away at all from the 2010 Whitney finalists–congratulations to all of you! Rather, it seeks to highlight those who did not make it into the finals, because the field is so competitive.

Okay, with that in mind, why did we not see The Actor and The Housewife here? As Patricia Karamesines’ brilliant review points out, it is “a remarkably courageous work that chips away at the horns of social and spiritual dilemmas.” I confess that I didn’t love it in the way that I loved Austenland. It’s not a feel-happy romantic comedy, although it’s hilarious in places. But it made me think, and it’s an important work.

Historical fiction needs Annette Lyon’s Tower of Strength! I appreciate so much Annette’s writing ability to maintain character voice and integrate historical details without feeling contrived.

And now to youth fiction: Shannon Hale’s Forest Born, which I loved. It’s the latest in the Bayern series. I am particularly fond of tree magic, which feels very Mormon to me: Rin cannot find peace and healing through trees unless she is completely honest with herself. I likened it to going to the temple, or praying, or anytime I try to access God. It’s impossible unless I approach divinity with complete honesty.

Brandon Sanderson’s Alcatraz Versus the Knights of Crystallia–the latest in his snarky series about the evil librarians who plot to take over the world. The voice gets a little old (old as in, more snark? really?) to me sometimes, but my son loves these.

Jeff Savage’s Farworld: Land Keep–The first Farworld book is looking a little bedraggled at our house, because my son has read it and reread it. He loved Land Keep too, and I liked Land Keep better than the first one.

James Dashner’s 13th Reality: The Hunt for Dark Infinity–again, my son loves these books. The first 13th Reality won the Whitney for youth fiction last year, so I’m very surprised that its sequel is not on the list.

Mette Ivie Harrison, The Princess and the Bear. I loved this sequel to The Princess and the Hound. It started out a little slow for me, but the taut, elegant writing made it worthwhile to keep going. And the ending was splendid.

Again, tell me your favorite books by LDS authors that didn’t make it to the Whitneys.

One final thought about the awards themselves. I was impressed with what Robison Wells, Whitney founder, said in this Mormon Artist interview:

My reasoning for starting the Whitney Awards was essentially a move from pessimism to optimism. When I first got published in the LDS market — even before the book was released — I immediately ran into a lot of the standard criticisms about LDS fiction. I’d tell someone that I’d written a book, and they’d be excited and ask about it, and the instant they realized it was an LDS book you could see the interest fade out of their eyes. After a while I became
almost embarrassed that my book was LDS fiction. So, I decided I was going to do
something about it. On my website I started something called the LDS Fiction Review Database, and my goal was to link to every single review of every LDS fiction book.
At its peak, I had several thousand links posted. My reasoning was this: in order to gain respect, LDS fiction needs to improve, and the best method to improve is more
critical evaluation. I maintained that database for about a year, but as I got more
involved in the LDS market I came to realize that, while, yes, there was a lot of lousy LDS fiction, there was an awful lot of great stuff too. My complaint all of this time
had been with the authors: they needed to write better books. And, I thought, having public, critical reviews would “encourage” them to do that. My big epiphany was that
I shouldn’t be targeting authors — I should be targeting readers. There are lots of great books available, but it’s hard to sift through the mediocre and find the amazing.
That was the ultimate genesis of the Whitney Awards — I was looking for a way for LDS fiction
to gain more respect. Now, when people claim that LDS books are lousy, we can point to the Whitney Award winners — to Coke Newell’s On the Road To Heaven or Sandra Grey’s Traitor, or many others — and hold these up as examples of LDS fiction that’s every bit as good as anything published nationally.

I’m excited to read all the finalists and decide with Shelah on what Segullah’s votes will be. And this year I will also be attending the awards banquet at the LDS Storymaker’s Conference. It looks like a great conference, with national and local editors attending, and plenty of inspiration and cool people.

So, tell me which books you feel deserved a Whitney finalist nod? Or which of the finalists you’ve already read and enjoyed? Any early winner predictions? As for me, I’ve got to get reading…

Related posts:

1. Mother in Me on Whitney Awards Auction
2. LDS Storymakers, Whitney Awards, Monsters and Mormons
3. Whitney Award Predictions