Author: James Goldberg

This journal belongs to Hannah Bolt (Rinehart!)

February 20th
2010: I know you’re supposed to start journals at the beginning of the year, but this was on discount at Deseret Book. Journaling=righteousness points, right? And anyone can write a couple sentences a day.
2011: I’ve written in my journal every day for a year. Wow. Now that I’m on year two, it should be cool to always see what I was doing exactly a year ago. Also, Derek brought me flowers.
2012: Surprise date: bowling, dinner, and a photo scavenger hunt. People keep saying the honeymoon stage ends, but I don’t believe it.
2013: I finally gave in and went to group therapy. Embarrassing amounts of tears. I hated it. But I’ll probably go back.
2014: A doctor’s appointment this morning. Heard the heartbeat. I’m happy…but nervous. Can we handle a baby? Continue reading “The Five Year Journal” by Katherine Cowley

I don’t remember the time
of nameless animals.
The lions have been lions too long
for even Adam to think of them as anything else.
My calloused feet have forgotten the luxury
of a thornless silt-soft ground.

Grandchildren often ask me to describe the face of the serpent-man
who came to tempt me,
but the details of his jawline, eye color,
and skin-tone have all rubbed free of my mind—
scrubbed away by a thousand other faces I’ve seen since. Continue reading “Faded Garden” by Emily Harris Adams

The call comes as Bishop Jonathan Parker prepares a funeral sermon for Gerald Thorkelsen, whose service is in two hours. He doesn’t recognize the number on the caller ID. When he answers the phone, the voice—a woman’s voice—is unfamiliar.

“Is this Jackie Parker?”

#

In 1986, when he was fifteen years old, Jonathan was on the front page of every tabloid in the country. Back then, to anybody with a television set, he was child star Jackie Parker, darling of the hit sitcom Stop That Kid! For seven seasons, America watched him grow from a lovable eight-year-old to a wise-cracking teen idol. If he hadn’t stolen his agent’s car and taken it for a drunken romp through south Hollywood, he would’ve carried the show through one more season. That was TV Guide’s opinion, at least. Continue reading “Child Star,” by Scott Hales

I. Two Kitchen Floors and a Tea Party

1.
Scrubbing the kitchen floor
on my hands and knees:

Dad walked in, looked down, said,
You’ll make someone a good wife

someday, then grinned. I shook my head,
laughed back, returned to searching

for my reflection
in linoleum. Continue reading “Three Meditations on Fatherhood” by Tyler Chadwick

Twenty-eight years ago, on his way to the temple on our wedding day, my husband-to-be had to saw his locking gas cap off with a hacksaw. The tank was empty, and he couldn’t find the key, and he was running late enough not to have the patience for any other plan. By the time he arrived, kindly temple workers had misplaced some of our wedding guests, and so Rob and I had plenty of time to sit on a white couch in the crowded Celestial Room at the Mesa, AZ temple, wondering why we had decided to get married on the busiest day of the year.

As we sat, waiting for our turn at the altar and hoping we would still have one by the time they found our families, a sweet white-haired elderly man sat down next to us. There wasn’t much free couch space in the temple that day, so we didn’t think anything of it until he turned to us. “You kids getting married today?” he asked.

I was decked out in my wedding dress and Rob had on his white tux, so it was probably a rhetorical question. We nodded politely anyway.

The old man looked at us. “Let me give you the best marriage advice you will ever get,” he said. Continue reading “Best Wedding Advice Ever,” by Heather Young

Angry Sunbeam does not want to wear a pretty bow in her hair. Angry Sunbeam does not care for raisins in her oatmeal. Or for oatmeal, which, best you recall, was her favorite food yesterday. Angry Sunbeam does not like that you have moved her seat to the passenger side of the car. Angry Sunbeam will not fold her arms or bow her head. She will not just look at the Friend. Angry Sunbeam probably does not need to pee for a third time but neither can you risk not taking her. Continue reading “Angry Sunbeam,” by Eric Jepson

This Monday kicks off the fourth annual Mormon Lit Blitz, featuring twelve finalists over a two-week period. The schedule follows:

Monday, May 18th: Eric Jepson, “Angry Sunbeam”

Tuesday, May 19th: Heather Young, “Best Wedding Advice Ever”

Wednesday, May 20th: Tyler Chadwick, “Three Meditations on Fatherhood”

Thursday, May 21st: Scott Hales, “Child Star”

Friday, May 22nd: Emily Harris Adams, “Faded Garden”

Saturday, May 23rd: Katherine Cowley, “The Five Year Journal”

Monday, May 25th: Annaliese Lemmon, “Disability, Death, or Other Circumstance”

Tuesday, May 26th: William Morris, “The Joys of Onsite Apartment Building Management”

Wednesday, May 27th: Darlene Young, “Echo of Boy”

Thursday, May 28th: Lehua Parker, “Decorating Someone Else’s Service”

Friday, May 29th: Julia Jeffery, “Should Have Prayed for a Canoe”

Saturday, May 30th: Merrijane Rice, “Mother”

Voters will have the opportunity to vote for their top four pieces from June 1st to June 5th. Winners will be announced on Monday, June 8th.

Don’t be shy about sharing your favorite pieces with your friends!

The Fourth Annual Mormon Lit Blitz will run May 18-30. We are pleased to announce this year’s finalists, listed by genre:

Fiction: 

Annaliese Lemmon, “Disability, Death, or Other Circumstance”

Eric Jepson, “Angry Sunbeam”

Julia Jeffery, “Should Have Prayed for a Canoe”

Katherine Cowley, “The Five Year Journal”

Scott Hales, “Child Star”

William Morris, “The Joys of Onsite Apartment Building Management”

Poetry: 

Darlene Young, “Echo of Boy”

Emily Harris Adams, “Faded Garden”

Merrijane Rice, “Mother”

Tyler Chadwick, “Three Meditations on Fatherhood”

Essay: 

Heather Young, “Best Wedding Advice Ever”

Lehua Parker, “Decorating Someone Else’s Service”

 

Thank you to all who submitted to this year’s contest. Please join us on this page to follow the finalists–and cast your vote.