: Mikel B. Classen, Deborah K. Frontiera
: U.P. Reader -- Volume #7 Bringing Upper Michigan Literature to the World
: Modern History Press
: 9781615997350
: 1
: CHF 5.20
:
: Erzählende Literatur
: English
: 172
: DRM
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB

Michigan's Upper Peninsula is blessed with a treasure trove of storytellers, poets, and historians, all seeking to capture a sense of Yooper Life from settler's days to the far-flung future. Since 2017, theU.P. Reader offers a rich collection of their voices that embraces the U.P.'s natural beauty and way of life, along with a few surprises.
The sixty short works in this 7th annual volume take readers on U.P. road and boat trips from the Keweenaw to the Soo. Every page is rich with descriptions of the characters and culture that make the Upper Peninsula worth living in and writing about. U.P. writers span genres from humor to history and from science fiction to poetry. This issue also includes imaginative fiction from the Dandelion Cottage Short Story Award winners, honoring the amazing young writers enrolled in all of the U.P.'s schools.
Featuring the words of Mikel B Classen, Sharon Kennedy, Ellen Lord, Deborah K Frontiera, Bill Sproule, Maria Vezzetti Matson, Tamara Lauder, Tyler R Tichelaar, Emilie Lancour, M Kelly Peach, Richard Hill, Roslyn McGrath, Becky Ross Michael, Julie Dickerson, John Adamcik, August Whitney, Tricia Carr, Elizabeth Fust,Ninie Gaspariani Syarikin, Mack Hassler, Donna Searight Simons, Leigh Mills, Raymond Luczak,J L Hagen, Nina Craig,Art Curtis, Brandy Thomas,Kathleen Carlton Johnson, Chris Kent, Ben Bohnsack, Edd Tury, Allan Koski,Jaclyn Jukkala, Lilli Gast, Miah Billie, Halle Wakkuri, Serah Oommen, and Betty Harriman.
'Funny, wise, or speculative, the essays, memoirs, and poems found in the pages of these profusely illustrated annuals are windows to the history, soul, and spirit of both the exceptional land and people found in Michigan's remarkable U.P. If you seek some great writing about the northernmost of the state's two peninsulas look around for copies of theU.P. Reader.
--Tom Powers, Michigan in Books
'U.P. Reader offers a wonderful mix of storytelling, poetry, and Yooper culture. Here's to many future volumes!'
--Sonny Longtine, author ofMurder in Michigan's Upper Peninsula
'As readers embark upon this storied landscape, they learn that the people of Michigan's Upper Peninsula offer a unique voice, a tribute to a timeless place too long silent.'
--Sue Harrison, international bestselling author ofMother Earth Father Sky
TheU.P. Reader is sponsored by the Upper Peninsula Publishers and Authors Association (UPPAA) a non-profit corporation. A portion of proceeds from each copy sold will be donated to the UPPAA for its educational programming.

FICTION

Quale and Agnes

by Sharon Kennedy

The fading sun shines through lacy beige curtains and brings a quiet glow to Quale’s living room, turning her surroundings into a welcoming cocoon. She wraps herself deeper into her yellow cardigan, stirs a little Irish cream into her coffee, and turns to Spike who is reading yesterday’s newspaper, quite oblivious to Quale’s obvious suffering. She hates him and his cool indifference.

“I didn’t think it would end like this,” she says. “I thought I’d awaken one morning, and Mom would be gone — that I’d find her asleep in her chair with a peaceful look on her face and her plastic crucifix clutched in her hand. Sweetie would be purring and licking her arm, trying to awaken her, but knowing as an animal instinctively knows, that her mistress has gone someplace the cat cannot follow. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Dear God, not like this.”

“How long are you going to cry?” Spike asks as he glances her way. “Your ma’s okay. She’s happy living at the home. It’s you I’m worried about. Snap out of the dumps, will you?” Spike has heard Quale’s complaints for weeks. Her constant rehashing of her mother’s move to the nursing home isn’t good for their shaky relationship.

“I can’t help it,” Quale answers. “This is the first spring in seventy-nine years she hasn’t been home to see the daffodils bloom. It doesn’t make sense that she lives in a healthy body while her mind disintegrates. If she had died, it would be so much easier.”

“But she didn’t die, and life goes on. Besides, the home has flowerbeds. She’ll be watching daffodils bloom from a different window, that’s all, and she won’t even know the difference. That should give you some comfort.”

“Why? Why does life go on and why should knowing Mom doesn’t know where she is bring me comfort? She worked hard all her life and look how it ended. Life makes no sense. It’s crazy—everything ends. Everything. All her hard work amounted to nothing. Her life amounted to less than a stick of kindling.”

“Stop it, Quale. Stop it or you’ll be sitting in a wheelchair next to her, dribbling your chicken noodle soup on your bib, and filling your Depends with urine.”

“You don’t understand. You didn’t live with her. We shared this house for nine years. It wasn’t until she moved in with me that I remembered everything about her that I thought I had forgotten. I loved her, then I hated her, then I forgave her then I loved her again. She’s been gone for two months. Give me time to mourn. Please. I need m