Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Mormon Lit Reading List: Become a MoLit Nerd for Just $17

A lot of people have one good experience with Mormon Literature and then come ask me where to find more. It's no easy task. Mormon Lit is so niche it tends to go under the radar when published and can be hard to find afterwards. Also: there's lots of Mormon Lit that's very bad. Some is just sloppily written. Some is annoying in its cheesiness, preachiness, or cynicism. Finding something you like can be tough.

And so, today, I'm going to offer a list of recommendations, limiting myself to one title per genre. These are works I have really enjoyed and that I think exemplify what Mormon Literature can achieve. Do yourself a favor: give one or more a shot. Make it through the whole list (requires $17 with shipping for used copies plus access to a Netflix account) and you're an official initiate into the world of Mormon Literature.

Novel: Bound on Earth by Angela Hallstrom (New from $7.70, Used from $0.01.)
Lots of fictional heroes are sort of loners, with small or absent families and a small circle of close friends. This is because it is hard to write large numbers of characters and relationships in a short space. Unfortunately, it means that many fictional depictions of Mormons--who tends to have large numbers of significant relationships--fall flat.
Bound on Earth does an impressive job of giving us real-feeling Mormon characters with lots of relationships. The book switches perspectives each chapter to get us into the heads of three generations of members of one family and see how they relate to each other and to the wards around them. Seeing what they go through over a period of decades is moving and often surprising and one of the Mormonest experiences I've had reading fiction. I highly recommend this book.

YA Novel: Slumming by Kristen D. Randle (New from $9.93, Used from $0.01)
The three protagonists in Slumming are the three Mormons their age in the school, and as someone who grew up in Ohio, the book gets points with me for its non-Utah setting. The characters' families feel real, not idealized or melodramatic, and their school world had the right mix of mundane problems and serious depth.
At its heart, this is a book about trying to be a disciple and help others and what can happen along the way. Are you actually condescending while trying to be helpful? Who needs help, and who is equipped to give it? What do you do when service brings you face to face with difficult moral dilemmas?
Some adults I've talked to struggled to get into the book because of the strong YA voice in the opening. I'd advise you to hold out anyway and follow the story through. Strong narrative, compelling themes, great depiction of Mormon characters dealing with typically Mormon problems.

Short Story: Folk of the Fringe by Orson Scott Card (New from $7.50, Used from $2.00, Kindle $7.99)
What's not to love about post-apocalyptic Mormonism?
The premise of Folk of the Fringe is that a nuclear war has taken place, destroying the old social order and leaving people to carve out new ways of living in an altered environment. We see Mormons in North Carolina and the West picking up the pieces and building a new society, and we get a good sense of the isolation and division that exists in it.
The collection gets points for striking, poetic images inside compelling stories and for using scripture as well as history evocatively in creating the future. I love what Card does with the submerged Salt Lake Temple and with Book of Mormon prophecy. I was hooked from the opening story and only thought "Pageant Wagon" could have used another draft.

Play: Little Happy Secrets by Melissa Leilani Larson (Free audio version at link)
I directed an early audio production and helped out with the original stage production, so I got to see this a lot and it remains one of my favorites. The protagonists, Claire is a recently returned missionary who moves back in with her close friend and pre-mission roommate and then realizes she has feelings for her.
The play gets points for running high on humanity and low on agenda. It's lovely just to watch Claire work through her experiences and make sense of things in her own way. Andthe best prayers I've ever seen onstage come in some of her monologues, as she walks around town and talks through her feelings with God.

Poetry: Let Me Drown With Moses by James Goldberg (Kindle book: $2.99. Can be read on PC with free app download.)
OK, so I'm cheating and recommending my own work, but none of my favorite Mormon poets--Merrijane Rice, Darlene Young, and Jonathon Penny--has a collection out. And most of the poetry collections I've read by Mormons are poetry first and only incidentally about Mormonism every few poems.
Let Me Drown With Moses makes my list because it's unabashedly Mormon, dealing with history and scripture, with questions of devotion and community and discipleship. It has some real staying power with people: one reviewers said that some of the poems "get stuck in your teeth" and leave you thinking for a while. I've had people tell me they shared poems in Church meetings, or that a certain line describes something they've been trying to explain for a while.
So yes, it's mine, and I'm hardly the greatest poet among living Mormons, but more than any other collection I know, this one tries to figure out what Mormon poetry might do for the community.

Graphic Narrative: The Garden of Enid by Scott Hales (Free tumblr account; scroll all the way down to begin)
There have been several Book of Mormon comics published in the past few years, and I'm currently partway through Dendo, a really promising missionary memoir. For graphic narrative, though, my recommendation goes to the year-long online comic The Garden of Enid: Adventures of a Weird Mormon Girl. It's at times quirky, snarky, and funny, at times thought-provoking, and then dramatic and moving in the next set. Also: no one in Mormon comics is as visually innovative as Scott, who plays with things like frame space in ways that make clear he's studied Scott McCloud and been reflective about his craft.
I watched Enid's story unfold over twelve months and I'd been interested to here what it's like for people who scroll back to the beginning and read from there.

Film: The Saratov Approach (Steams of Netflix, $13.98 new, $8.94 used)
All it takes for a written work to succeed artistically is a single writer with a solid command of craft and a strong sense of audience. Film is much more difficult: the core story needs to be supported with the right visuals, performances, pacing, music, etc., so you need a good director, cinematographer, composer, actors, and so on in addition to a good screenwriter.
I chose The Saratov Approach as my film recommendation because all the elements come together so well. I've watched Mormon movies I'm supposed to like but found slow or strained: this one is just a pleasure to watch. I particularly enjoy the combination of intensity and lightness. Saratov Approach does a good job of showing how the little details of how people relate to each other matter in a time of crisis. Interesting, enjoyable work.

So...there's the list. Those of you have read these works: would you also recommend them? Would you put another urgent recommendation ahead on someone's list?
Those of you who try one--how'd it work out for you? I know I like these books, but I'm interested in knowing whether they're also good recommendations for others. Let me know what you think.

Sunday, January 17, 2016

This week's sacrament

The nurse ducked her head into my hospital room this morning to ask if I wanted the sacrament. I said yes, she closed the door, and then I got really emotional. You don't realize how much religious ritual means to you, I suppose, until you need it.

From the outside, it's just a piece of bread and tiny cup of water. In the hospital, of course, it's also a short visit from kind strangers, but a swallow of bread and a sip of water seem like odd gifts to bring a cancer patient.

For those who know, though, this is what my visitors will bring:

It's Jesus, who--after wearing himself thin walking the length of Galilee and Judea teaching, healing, warning, and loving--now lies flat on his face in Gethsemane suffering with me. It's his promise that whenever two or three gather,  remembering, he'll be.

It's the years I've spent trying to be one who remembers. The feeling of pew, folding chair, or foyer wall against my back as this act became a central part of my life's rhythm. The weeks I spend as a father wondering whether my three-year-old will touch one and only one piece of bread and whether my five-year-old will throw away the plastic cup after he drinks the water. The weeks I spent as fifteen-year-old hiding from the chapel before I worked up the courage to pass the tray on untouched, learning how to face myself so I could face God.

It's the people who carry faith and memory with me. The autistic deacon who sometimes wore pajamas under his dress clothes when he brought us the sacrament tray. The elderly sister whose house I used to bless the bread or water in--who once told me about the necklace she'd been given by her own grandmother, a pioneer from England who had crossed the plains. The grandfather and grandmother and aunts and uncles and cousins and second-cousins who have sat shoulder to shoulder in each other's chapels as we've gathered to welcome babies into the world or send missionaries out to it.

It's the hope that, though bodies are so easy to break and blood so easy to shed, healing and peace win out in the end. That there's a place beyond the grasp of death where we can eat and drink together, where the relationships we treasure deepen through the eternities and the hard experiences we endure are refined like gold into divine wisdom.

It's all that, and so much more. A symphony of meaning in every unassuming piece of bread, every silent cup of water.


My visitors come, thankfully, after I have had time to be helped to the bathroom to have my urine charted and been reminded by the five-foot walk that yes, I need my anti-nausea medication this morning. They come after I've had time to think a lot and write a little and even work up the resolve to start eating.

There are two brothers and two sisters, all with grey hair, conservative clothes, and kind eyes. Following the formal protocol for a patient of my  white blood cell count, the brothers don breathing masks as they walk into the room. The sisters wait at the doorway. One of the brothers explains that they live near the hospital, so today I'm part of their stake. It's their calling to bring me the sacrament and a short thought, he says.

He seems taken aback when my only response is to begin weeping openly.

"Hard day?" he asks.

"No," I say, "I just really appreciate you coming." It is enough for me today that this feeling is profound, even if I sound crazy.

After a moment, he blesses the bread. I let the familiar words sink into me and take it when the prayer is finished. The next brother blesses the water. I think of all the souls who will drink today as he gives me the cup.

When I'm done, they open the door so one of the sisters can give the spiritual thought from a mask-free distance. The Lord doesn't always take away our challenges, she says simply, but he does help us through them.

And as they go on to the next room, as I wipe the tears away from all the places where my beard used to be, I know--using the term in the Mormon sense to describe truths you anchor yourself in even beyond the constraints of language--that it's true.

Saturday, June 13, 2015

Age-appropriate activities

Last week, I promised to bring my ten-year-old daughter Kira to work with me at the Church History Library in Salt Lake. She was pretty excited to see my office, but I was pretty sure the excitement would wear off once she realized how incredibly boring it is to watch writers work. So I planned something else.

After she got a chance to check out the office, I asked, would she like to wander around Temple Square on her own?

She thought that sounded lovely.

As I started listing places she might want to check out, though, I realized there might be a hang up or two. I remembering loving the native-plant garden on the Conference Center roof, but I wasn't sure the tour guides would let an unaccompanied ten-year-old into their group. Not everyone shares my views on the importance of structured independence in childhood. Letting Kira wander central Salt Lake on her own might raise a few eyebrows.

I decided it would be worth it anyway.

When the day came, I took her out to temple square just after lunch at noon. I took a minute to show her how to use landmarks to find her way back to my office and left her with my cell phone in case she got really lost. And then I went back to work.

She explored for the next four hours. She called a few times with a report ("They did let me into the conference center tour!" "The north visitors' center by the temple is awesome!") and once left a message with a question ("Where exactly is the Beehive House?") which she resolved on her own before I got back to her. She had a great time, and got both a stronger sense of connection to our faith and history and some very tired feet.

I don't know what the right age is for setting a child loose in a downtown historical area. For Kira, ten was plenty old enough. Elijah would love to do the same, but at age four his wandering range is still limited to one side of our block. Maybe when he's eight?

I know there are risks to letting your children wander too far and try out too much when they're still young. But I tend to think that as a culture, we worry too much about those risks and don't think enough about the benefits of helping a kid develop some sense of independence.

In Kira's case, a slowly-growing "home range" of space she could wander without supervision has been important since she was five or so. Longer walks and trips to the grocery store where she led and I just followed helped her figure out how to navigate and make decisions while still feeling supported. And then things like using Google maps to help her figure out how to get to friends' houses a few blocks away rather than just driving her helped.

She still doesn't wander as far in the neighborhood as I did when I was a kid, back in the days when it was normal for kids to just take off on bikes and come back by dinner. But then again, nobody set me loose on temple square or gave me money to go buy ice cream on my own, either.

I read about a study once that showed adult American men have a stronger sense of direction than adult American women because in our generations, boys were typically allowed to wander farther than girls (girls who did wander a lot as young children typically had stronger senses of direction). I haven't looked for studies on other skills: do ten-year-olds who have to interact with cashiers develop stronger social skills? Do early childhood educational experiences have more staying power when kids have to find their way to the experience on their own? My guess is that there's some sort of benefit.

So where's the balance between safety and development? What is it wise to expect/allow from a 4, 6, 8, 10, or 12 year old? What tricks do you have for preparing your own children for independent experiences?

I think this is something we need to think more and talk more about.

Update: on a Facebook discussion of this post, someone asked about laws for leaving children on their own. In Utah, there is no legal age set. The Children's Service Society has a helpful checklist for deciding when to leave kids at home on their own and how to prepare them for a positive experience. With some modifications, I'd imagine a similar preparation and evaluation process applies to helping your kids safely navigate a public space on their own at a reasonable age. 

Monday, May 25, 2015

2015 Mormon Lit Blitz Discussion

We are currently in the middle of the fourth annual Mormon Lit Blitz. For those who don't know, the Lit Blitz is a contest Nicole and I run that features poems, stories, and essays under 1,000 words on Mormon themes. It's an opportunity for writers to play with what Mormon Lit might do, and for readers to get a sense of what Mormon Lit might be beyond their (typically negative) preconceived notions.

Some years, we've done tours where different Mormon blogs host the discussion of different pieces. This year, we'd like to see what happens when we have all the discussion on one post.

Which pieces this year linger with you in the days after you read them? What do they have you thinking about? Do any of the pieces speak to each other in interesting ways?

Here's a list of the finalists:

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 Jeffrey, “Should Have Prayed for a Canoe”
Saturday, May 30th: Merrijane Rice, “Mother”


Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Make a Mormon Poet a #1 Bestseller this Saturday (23 May)

If I can get a few dozen people to buy my $3 Kindle book this weekend, I can became a #1 bestseller. Let me explain:

A little over a month ago, I released an eBook of my religious poetry.

I did it without much fanfare. I had promised myself that I would finish the collection in time for a Passover release (what can I say? I may be a Mormon, but I like releasing books on Jewish holidays). I made that goal partly by doing no promotional work whatsoever.

If I remember right, I sold 18 copies in the first three days, probably mostly to cousins. Given that the book is made up of poetry, which no one buys anymore in the first place, and about Mormon themes, which no one has bought since Eliza R. Snow died, I felt like 18 copies was pretty decent.

I had no idea how good it was by the standards of the market. As it turned out, those 18 sales took me to the #3 sales rank for religious/inspirational poetry in the Kindle store--trailing only a collection of poems by Rumi and Lao Tzu's Tao Te Ching. 

Sales slowed down after that and I went back to the usual non-promotion. When I checked again yesterday, my eBook was at #52 in the Kindle store's religious/inspirational poetry list...on the strength of a single sale the day before.

I shared that fact on Facebook, and a funny thing happened: four people who read my status bought the book, and I leaped up to #8. Since most of the bestselling religious ePoets are dead Asian men, that made me the bestselling living religious poet on Kindle.

That was fun. But I want more. Having had a taste of charts I had never expected to climb, I have decided to fight for the top spot. I want my Mormon poems to hit #1.

I will, of course, need your help. I want you to buy Let Me Drown With Moses this Saturday. I want you to tell your friends to buy my book this Saturday. It would be lovely if you also read it, but I'm not picky. I just need a few dozen people to make sure I pass up Rumi. For $3, you can be a part of the dream. And maybe years from now, when religious poetry is wildly popular again and all the great Mormon poets are treated like rock stars, you'll be able to tell your grandchildren: I was part of the wave that carried Goldberg to #1 back in the day. And they'll look at you with big, awe-filled eyes and say "Really?" And you'll nod in a sagely, if slightly senile sort of way, and say, "Yes."

Update: Thanks to those of you who helped this happen on Saturday, May 23. As it happened, Let Me Drown With Moses also topped the somewhat-more-competitive lists of books about Mormonism. Here's a picture: 

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Dark Watch

Imagine two poets who both want to write about the moon.

The first makes her way up into the hills, where the sky is clear, and pens a few lines to describe the way the moon's soft silver glow gives depth to the night.

The second goes down to the bay and watches the water lap against the shore as the tide slowly rises. She writes about the quiet, monotonous motions of the water as it is pulled an almost imperceptible fraction of the distance toward some mysterious force above.

This second approach is the one William Morris takes in his short story collection Dark Watch and Other Mormon-American Stories. In the stories, for the most part, the mundane and even monotonous rhythms of everyday Mormon life take center stage while the calls of discipleship pull at the characters quietly but insistently, from somewhere that always feels just out of reach but still worth reaching toward.

The Contemporary Stories

Of the 16 stories in the collection, 10 are set in the present or the recent past. In the first two stories, we follow young home teachers on visits where the usual rituals of fellowship are strained by a genuine human need which no one knows quite how to handle. In the next two, we see a missionary and a recently returned missionary try to make sense of spiritual experiences that sneak up on them and then linger almost hauntingly.

In some of the later stories, the setting is less overtly religious, but the same tensions persist. The characters' feet are planted squarely in a world of schedules to keep, social roles to play, decisions to be made. At the same time, though, they feel other people's needs calling to them from beneath the surface of our protective superficiality or feel God calling to them in various subtle ways from above. Navigating those three worlds, Morris seems to feel, is what defines contemporary Mormon-American experience.

The Future Stories

When Eric James Stone came as a guest to one of the BYU creative writing classes I taught, he mentioned his lack of interest in science fiction as a form of prediction. The goal of most science fiction writers, he argued, is not to forecast the future but to use an exaggerated future as a sort of parable for a concern of the present.

If Jesus were in the business of walking down the streets of this world telling stories today, I think he'd like that kind of science fiction. A man who talks about planks of wood sticking out of your eye and camels walking through needles understands the power of the right kind of extreme image.

In this collection, Morris is interested in futures where it's impossible to openly practice Mormonism in mainstream society.  In some of the stories, a separate Zion exists somewhere where "Peculiars" can live their religion freely--but the protagonists are people who live as Crypto-Mormons, quietly keeping their faith in whatever forms they can while publicly pretending to be just like everyone else.

The stories' central interest is not what future persecution might look like. The stories are most interested, it seems to me, in the feeling of Mormonism as adding hidden layers to reality. The characters in the contemporary stories live in their own routines, with faith pulling them toward something more and something else. The characters in the future stories live in elaborate lies and half-truths built around the expectations of their societies, all balanced precariously against the secret ties of faith and a half-remembered sense of greater purpose.

The Take Home

There's not a huge demand for Mormon-themed short stories, or for serious religious fiction period, in today's market. Conversations about religion mostly happen informally among families and friends, in Church, or on blogs--not in the intricately crafted world of literature.

But I think these stories do some really interesting things that my informal conversations and my periodic scans through the blogosphere don't. They talk relatively little about the current issues in our conversation cycle or the questions we plow our way through in Sunday School from week to week. They're a rare and valuable opportunity, instead, for me to step back and think about what my religion is--not as the Church per se or as a set of things I happen to do at this stage in my people's history, but as a set of pulls that act upon me. As that distant force that still seems to move our day to day motions gradually up the sand.

Friday, March 27, 2015

What to See at the Mormon Letters Conference Tomorrow

Tomorrow (Saturday, 28 March) is a special day. It is not only the day we get ready for Sunday, 1-5 pm is also the time when you can gather for free to the UVU campus library in Orem for the 2015 Association for Mormon Letters Mini-Conference, "Everything you wanted to know about Mormon Literature (but were afraid to ask)."

The conference consists of two panel discussions, two live debates, a writing workshop, a poetry playoff, and an awards ceremony with readings from some of the winners.

There is one important catch, though: there are two sessions going on most of the time, so you can only catch half the program. What will you choose?

Here's the agenda:

Conference Agenda

12:30-12:50 p.m.

Registration and mingling outside library auditorium

1:00-1:50 p.m.

Room 515: What is the role of the Mormon writer in the community?
Debate: Stephen Carter vs. James Goldberg

Room 516: The Mormon Lit Scene Today
Panel: Laura Hilton Craner, Nicole Wilkes Goldberg, Katherine Morris, Boyd Peterson

2:00-2:50 p.m.

Room 515: Should Mormon writers study Mormon literature?
Debate: Gideon Burton vs. Eric Samuelsen

Room 516: Inventing Truth: The Art and Craft of the Personal Essay
Workshop Leaders: Sharlee Mullins Glenn, Cheri Shulzke, Melissa Young 

3:00-3:50 p.m.

Room 515: Poetry Slam
Competitors: Emily Harris Adams, Shawn Bailey, Laura Hilton Craner, Marianne Hales Harding, Michael Hicks, Clifton Jolley, Kevin Klein, Steven Peck, Bonnie Shiffler-Olsen, Darlene Young

Room 516: My Favorite Mormon Book and Why It Matters
Panel: Glenn Gordon, Lance Larsen, Melissa Leilani Larson, Shelah Miner, Ardis E. Parshall

4:00-5:00 p.m.

Library Auditorium
Announcement of Annual AML Award Winners
Presenter: Scott Bronson
Selected readings by award winners

And here's my advice on what to take in:

It's worth it to come early--half the fun of conferences is the hallway discussions. I, personally, am hoping to find some people to toss around Mormon alternative history ideas with. There may or may not be a betting pool on which shortlisted titles will get awards come afternoon. And even if you're more the fly on the wall type, with enough writers around, there's always something interesting to listen to.


Room 515: My debate with Stephen Carter should be a lot of fun. Political debates today are so much about personality and image that they're mostly unwatchable--Stephen and I have basically nothing at stake personally, so this one will be all about the ideas. That alone is probably worth the hour.
The topic is also pretty interesting. Stephen Carter, who's the editor of Sunstone, will be arguing for Mormon writers to follow the grand Western tradition of the writer as social critic, a voice of conscience within the community. While I think conscience has value, I'll argue that there are some dangers to casting oneself in that role, and argue that Mormon writers should work to engage the Mormon imagination more than to expose the weaknesses in the culture. Sort of the aesthetic of the Mormon Lit Blitz, as it happens.
The division isn't just theory. If you get into literary Mormon fiction, you'll see the same debate playing out in the way people structure their stories. And you'll probably recognize the same styles in the ways people blog and talk about Mormonism online.
I highly recommend this session to two groups: 1) those who are already heavily involved in Mormon Lit, and 2) those who don't care that much about Mormon Lit, but are at the conference 'cause it sounded fun.

Room 516: Between the two groups I recommend the debate for is another group that I hope to see well-represented Saturday: those who aren't very involved in Mormon Lit now, but who are interested. "The Mormon Lit Scene Today" is a panel designed to give you a quick survey of what's out there in terms of organizations, online resources, publishers, awards, communities, etc.--and what purpose they all serve and how they fit together. Different readers and readers want different things, and it can be hard at first to find the place within Mormon Lit that fits you best. This panel could help you figure out what exists and how to tune into what you're most interested in.


Room 515: I could listen to Eric Samuelsen and Gideon Burton debate tooth paste brands, so this one would get my entertainment value vote. It's also the best session we have for anyone interested in the Mormon literary past: if you don't know much about the Mormon literary past the debate is over, this is probably a great session to go to.
I expect the debate will also end up touching on some thoughts that go beyond Mormon Lit into Mormon identity: how much do we gain by looking within and how much do we gain from looking without? Obviously, both are going to be beneficial, but playing the two alternatives off each other might shed some light not only on what aspiring Mormon writers should read, but on how we might think of our dual identity as members of a very distinct community living in an age of increasingly open global culture.

Room 516: Eugene England and other giants in the Mormon literary past have made strong arguments for the essay as a form Mormons are culturally equipped to get a lot out of. And the team at Segullah have a growing track record behind them of using well-crafted essays to shape a vibrant online community capable of talking about more than the issue of the week.
Whether you are an experienced writer or not, the essay workshop would be a great choice if you feel like you have a story to tell. Words have always mattered, and probably matter more than ever in today's new media world, and we need people willing to do the hard work of turning experience into usable story. Maybe one of them can be you.


Room 515: Stay here if you're a fan of spectacle. Poetry has a reputation for being bookish, hard to connect to, and self-important. But that's only come because live audiences largely abandoned it. There have been plenty of cultures where poetry gathering were and are electric and exciting. So come: vote out what you don't love. Vote on what you do. And watch the ranks of poets whittle down until we crown a champion of the hour.

Room 516: This is the room where you should go if you've always figured Mormon Literature is stupid. Write down the titles of the books people recommend, make a goodwill effort to read them, and if you still don't like anything, you will join the elite ranks of those whose sweeping condemnations of Mormon Literature are supported by any meaningful kind of experience.
This is also a great session to attend if you love Mormon literature. I will be extremely surprised if anyone who attends the session will have read all five books the panels recommend: it's a great place to find new treasures and expand your reading list with books that have touched people in an unusual way.
A bonus for this session is that we'll open up at the end for audience members to share their own recommendations--and their stories of why a certain book affected them the way it did. So if you're planning on it, feel free to bring your own story.


I realize that we're ending just an hour before the General Women's Meeting and that young fathers may want to rush home to cook dinner for their kids. But we're going to pack an awful lot of awesome into this final hour. This is the first year the Association for Mormon Letters has released short lists for its awards, so there's more than the usual suspense about which titles will be announced as we get started. And we're anticipating that a lot of shortlisted writers will be there, so there will be quick readings from a wide range of the interesting voices in Mormon Lit today.

In any case: if you're along the Wasatch front and free, I'd love to see you sometime tomorrow afternoon. Be sure to introduce yourself if it's the first time we're meeting. If you live far away, I hope you at least enjoy knowing this sort of thing is happening. We do hope to get recordings posted online fairly soon after the conference so you can listen from a distance. And another year, maybe we'll be organized enough to broadcast events live and take questions on Facebook.

Whether you're going or not, I'd also love to hear your feedback on what sounds interesting. It's a lot of work to corral together this amount of talent, and we'd love to come up with the most compelling ways to use it at future events. So let me know how these sessions sound. 


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