by Caroline Adderson
Coming out of an unhappy relationship and a stint at an artist colony, Charlotte, a writer, takes a job teaching at a private ESL college. There she befriends Renata—audacious, sexy, and as changeable as Proteus. “I have a story for you,” Renata says to her one day over lunch. She doesn’t elaborate further, but Charlotte soon discovers that she has found in Renata an unexpectedly passionate and compelling subject.
“Caroline Adderson is such a graceful and intelligent writer that the work that must surely go into creating her hilarious, prismatic stories is never betrayed in the language. There is no strain on the page, not a bead of sweat. I think of her as a writer’s writer. I envy her talent and learn from her sentences. The short story, Obscure Objects, is, I’m happy to report, Adderson at her glorious best.”
— Barbara Gowdy, author of Helpless and The White Bone
“Obscure Objects, Caroline Adderson’s fierce and affecting workplace comedy, is a deadpan gem: droll, moving, snapping-smart.”
— Meg Wolitzer, author of The Uncoupling, The Ten-Year Nap, and The Position
HOT IN SUMMER, COLD in winter—as though weather reached us in the staff room. Not so: the room was unfenestrated. What actually blew over us were the perversely inverted whims of the A/C system. Here each teacher was assigned a carrel. It felt so much like a stall that after I finally left for good I blamed it, the carrel, for the near-bovine sense of complacency that kept me working there an entire year. In the facing carrel, tête-à-tête to me, though I couldn’t see her when we were both seated, was a woman I’d known slightly in university, Janine. Janine with the memorable hair. Even her eyebrows and lashes and the fuzz on her arms were a deep bronze. Yet it was she who recognized me first. She stood up in her carrel and, from her higher vantage, looked down into mine where I was arranging my things the day I was hired. “So, Charlotte,” she said. “Is this it? The inexorable end to a degree in creative writing?”
A honey-haired head popped up over the partition to my left. This was Renata, who gave me this story. She looked at me with curiosity. Later I met Sterling, who was serving time behind the right partition, ball-and-chained there by Practical English Usage. He was the one who first described the room as unfenestrated. A half-dozen or so other colleagues also toiled there, thanklessly.
In the same small room was a metal supply cupboard with a lock, the combination a countdown: ten-nine-eight. Every time we took a pencil or a stick of chalk we had to update the inventory posted inside the door and initial it so management could keep track of who was using what. The photocopy machine churned away in the corner, a beige satanic mill. There were no class texts. We photocopied chapters, which made competition for the machine especially cutthroat the fifteen minutes before class. In fact, we might have developed some rapport as a staff despite the isolating carrels if not for the way the machine pitted us one against the other, and the continuous noise of it, its insatiable demand for toner that no one wanted the grubby job of adding, its serial jams, the blinking green light on the map on the inside panel that supposedly indicated the precise location of the jam, which was usually so deep within the hot gears and plates that no fingers dared go there, if not for the obvious disgust of the briefcased repairman who appeared every few days to minister to the overworked machine. We could tell he thought it was a shitty place to work. All this divided us, just as management wanted it. They were terrified we would unionize.
about the author
CAROLINE ADDERSON is the author of four novels (A History of Forgetting, Sitting Practice, The Sky is Falling, Ellen in Pieces), two collections of short stories (Bad Imaginings, Pleased to Meet You), and three books for young readers (Very Serious Children,I, Bruno, Bruno For Real). Her work has received numerous prize nominations including the Scotiabank Giller Prize longlist, the Governor General's Literary Award, the Rogers Writer's Trust Fiction Prize, and the Commonwealth Writers' Prize. A two-time Ethel Wilson Fiction Prize and three-time CBC Literary Award winner, Caroline was also the recipient of the 2006 Marian Engel Award for mid-career achievement.
from the library
At Georgetown University, a music student and part-time nude life model becomes involved with the first true passion of her life, a man who awakens her to the weight of experience she already possesses - as well as the ups and downs yet to come.
Romance is candlelight on cheekbones, blurring gazes and the press of heels on strange sheets. But what happens a year later? You’re sharing bath towels and bickering over who forgot to buy a light bulb. There is beauty in a familiar hand on the nape of your neck. There is love in waking up under a shared blanket. This story is about the romance of domesticity.
“Kirsty is one of the best and brightest . . . when I read her stuff I feel like I could taste it, chew it, roll it around on my tongue, the language is so delicious and sturdy and musical. She also has a knack for getting relationships exactly right in her writing, whether between parent and child or lovers or friends.”
— Amber Sparks, Fiction Editor at Emprise Review
June's mother is getting married and there's nothing June can do about it. Counting down the days to the wedding while trapped with a sort-of friend and unwanted family-to-be at their lakeside cottage in the Kawarthas, June searches desperately for a way to make the world - and her life - stand still.
Catherine wants what Richard has: a richly decorated house, and a perfect, lavished-upon baby. Catherine also wants Richard: a disaffected diplomat whose true passion is for cinema. But Catherine is only the babysitter, and her envy—and its fallout—come to the fore when Richard is accused of a crime, and she must decide whether to help exonerate him.
“Laure Baudot’s prose is exquisite, patient, and sophisticated. In the Afternoon immerses you in the fascinating and complicated mind of a babysitter who is wise beyond her years, yet dangerously impulsive at the same time. This story is irresistible and heartbreaking.”
— Sarah Selecky, author of the 2010 Giller Prize–shortlisted collection This Cake Is for the Party
Portraits of people marooned within themselves, trapped by their past experiences, by uncertainty and anxiety — individuals for whom each new situation is a grueling journey towards the present, a place where action and choice are possible. In Second World, Matt Cahill illustrates, with honesty and empathy, how the most important breakthroughs are not the life-altering revelations, but rather the minor miracles that get us through each day.
A hybrid travelogue and memoir that pieces together the fragmented recollections of one woman’s rocky journey toward vegetarianism. From her rural upbringing in francophone Northeastern Ontario to exotic locations, outlandish adventures, and bizarre meals, Julie relives her struggle to make the right food choices for herself and examines the consequences of her decisions.
After an unexpected malfunction, the technology which enables humanity to cross vast distances has separated an interstellar traveler from the love of her life — not in space, but in time. Now, while her companions remain in stasis, she must endure the loneliness of the journey until the moment her lover wakes.
Winner of the 2015 Friends of Merril Short Story Contest, When I'm Old, When I'm Grey imagines the strange — and strangely familiar — forms that fear and longing can take, as we venture forth into the unknown of the future.
When Blanche first began singing, she was humble, eager, willing to work, willing to learn. Now she is headstrong, condescending, unprofessional, and just a tiny bit full of herself. She is also the closest to genius that Antoinette, her accompanist, may ever have a chance to work with.