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The way Stielstra describes the Opulence atmosphere through Katie’s eyes (and the sense of awakening she would go on to experience during that defining summer) might make one wish they could pack a bag and run away there themselves: “It was like people out here knew how to live with space between them. In the city, there are so many people all in the same place that you storm along and grab your own space before anyone else can take it and act like there’s no one else there. And then, when you’re with people you do know, it’s all hugs and air kisses and oversharing about your diet and other people’s marriages and the state of your bowels, for all I know. Out here, there was plenty of space for everybody, so you were actually glad to see each other as it happened, and chat and have a friendly word, and then leave spaces for breathing. I was a total stranger, but that was okay.” (33-34).
2021 Finalists - High Plains Book Awards
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| Young Adult Book |
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| First Book Category |
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Winners announced June 26, social media premiere with book giveaways to follow.
[EMPORIA, KS]—[April 29, 2021] —Three books released by
Meadowlark Press in 2020 were named finalists in the the 31st annual
Midwest Book Awards. In the Mystery category, All Hallows’ Shadows, the
third book in the Pete Stone series, by Michael D. Graves, Emporia, was a
finalist. In fiction for Youth Adults, two of the three titles making the list
were published by Meadowlark: A Time for Tears, by Jerilynn Jones
Henrikson, Emporia, and Opulence, Kansas, by Julie Stielstra, Lyons,
Illinois. The awards program, which is organized by the Midwest Independent
Publishers Association (MiPA), recognizes quality independent publishing in the
Midwest.
“In so many ways, 2020 was a rough year for publishing. We
did not get to have any of our usual release parties as social distancing
restrictions upended our usual routes of getting books into the hands of
readers. But we continued to focus on the quality of our product, and, quite
honestly, our 2020 books are some of the best we’ve produced yet. All of our
authors are award winners from where I stand but making the finalists list for the
Midwest Book Awards is a wonderful bit of recognition. We have so many quality
stories being written by Kansans and about Kansas,” said Tracy Simmons,
publisher, Meadowlark Press.
The 31st annual Midwest Book Awards was open to
books published and copyrighted in 2020 in MiPA’s 12-state Midwestern region:
Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Michigan, Minnesota, Missouri, Nebraska, North
Dakota, Ohio, South Dakota and Wisconsin.
This year’s competition garnered 241 entries in 35
categories, submitted by 74 independent publishers and judged by a panel of nearly
one hundred librarians and booksellers from throughout the Midwest.
Historically, an awards gala is held in Minneapolis to
announce the winners, but this year, as in 2020, winners will be announced and
celebrated online, first in a Zoom webinar open to MiPA members and finalists,
and shortly thereafter in a social media premiere that can be shared with
friends and family. A period of book giveaways and winner highlights will
accompany the social media premiere.
“This shift to celebrating online has enabled us to engage
with a larger publishing community throughout the Midwest,” said Jennifer Baum,
executive director of MiPA. “The number of entries received in 2020 grew by
about 25% compared to the prior year, which can be attributed to our greater
online presence.”
Following the conclusion of the gala celebrations, winners
will be encouraged to participate in MiPA’s second season of the Virtual
Reading Series, a limited series launched last year on MiPA’s YouTube channel.
Finalist books will also be for sale in MiPA’s affiliate
shop on Bookshop.org, a website that shares proceeds with independent
booksellers. Buyers can opt to select which independent store will receive the
commission, or to leave it in a general pool to be distributed among
independent booksellers.
For a complete list of finalists, visit www.mipa.org/midwest-book-awards.
Follow @MIPAMidwestBookAwards on Facebook for updates on the gala’s social
media premiere and book giveaways.
The Midwest Book Awards, which began in 1989, recognizes the
best independent literature to come out of the Midwest each year and is
organized by the Midwest Independent Publishers Association (MiPA). Founded in
1984, MiPA exists today as a vibrant professional nonprofit association made up
of traditional presses, university presses, author-publishers, hybrid presses
and related support industries, such as graphic designers and printers. MiPA serves
the Midwest independent publishing community through regular educational
programming, networking and peer recognition.
##
Enjoy this excerpt from Opulence, Kansas, by Julie Stielstra. (Or scroll to the bottom to hear the author reading this excerpt and a bit more!) Readers of all ages love this story. Don't forget to check out our specials in the Meadowlark Bookstore.
So that, in a way, is how I ended up getting off a plane at the Wichita airport, lugging shoulder bags with my laptop and my camera stuff. Len and Maggie were picking me up—they said they’d meet me at the baggage claim.
“Which one?” I’d asked.
Maggie had laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll find you.”
I live in Chicago, okay? Which means the airport I’m used to
is O’Hare. Five terminals, like a hundred and fifty gates, and banks of screens
with lists and lists of planes arriving and departing. Mobs of people, all in a
hurry, lines into the restrooms, six dollar coffee and no place to sit. You
have to look at more screens to figure out which baggage area your luggage will
be at (hopefully), where you pay a buck to use a cart because it’s like a mile
to where your car is (if you can find it). So I get off in Wichita—with a dozen
people—and walk out into this empty concourse. There were only two. We stroll
along past a couple fast food places, down some stairs and there’s the baggage
claim. Just one. And there are Maggie and Len, and we wait about five minutes
and there’s my big suitcase.
Maggie already had a cart.
“I wasn’t sure how much stuff you’d have,” she said. We
trundled out the door, across the drive, and there’s the parking lot (just one)
and a big, red, dusty crew-cab pickup. Len set the suitcase in the back and
held out a hand for my other bags.
“Um, this is my computer and camera stuff,” I said. “Can I
just keep it with me? You know, so it doesn’t bounce around too much?”
“Sure,” he said.
“You okay back there?” asked Maggie into the rear-view mirror. “Len needs to shove his seat back so far he’d squish you.” She was driving.
October 27 and 28, Meadowlark authors Michael D. Graves and Julie Stielstra will be the featured authors for the Emporia State University Special Collections and Archives series of author presentations.
Anyone is welcome to attend. Visit emporia.edu/live to register for and attend these virtual events.
Happy Friday! As some of us wrap up the work week and others begin a new one, let's take a moment to sit quietly with a good book -- ahh, a little escape from our own reality and a portal into our protagonists' realities.
Publisher Tracy Million Simmons is making her way through the Kansas Notable Books and is currently reading The Topeka School by Ben Lerner. "This is a great time of year for Kansas readers!" she said. (Dobby agrees.)
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| Tracy and Dobby in their happy place. |
Publicist Linzi Garcia loves to start and finish her week of teaching by reading Meadowlark books in her quiet office. Today, she's neck-deep in the mystery of Opulence, Kansas by Julie Stielstra. This weekend, she'll spend time with Headwinds by Edna Bell-Pearson, The Big Quiet by Lisa D. Stewart, and Valentine by Ruth Maus. "I love where these narrators -- fictional and real -- take me," she said. "I'm always on an adventure."
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| Linzi is always surrounded by books -- complete and in progress. |
What and where are you reading this weekend? Do you read one book at a time, or are there multiple books on your nightstand? Books in the car? In the bathroom? Wherever you may be, we hope you enjoy your reading time!
Chapter 7 (pp. 31-36)
"So," said Maggie, as she put away the skillet. "How do you feel about going to church?"
My immediate, thoughtful, gracious response was to stare at the dish towel and go, "Um."
"It's okay, she said." You don't have to. I don't always go either, but Len likes to. 'Some keep the Sabbath going to church, I keep it staying at home...'"
I started. I remembered that poem! From my Emily Dickinson period...
"'With a bobolink for a chorister and the orchard for a dome,'" I said.
Maggie picked it up: "'God Himself preaches the sermon, and the sermon is never long...'"
"So instead of getting to heaven at last, I'm going all along!'" we finished together and laughed. Wow. Just this nice feeling of pure pleasure, just being with someone, doing the dishes and saying an old poem.
"After the service, we're having a picnic--for Memorial Day."
I'd forgotten it was Memorial Day weekend. And instantly felt terrible--I was out here, laughing in the kitchen with Maggie, while my mom was going to be languishing alone over my dad's ashes... but she probably wasn't.
"Oh, hell, I am so sorry," Maggie said. "I didn't think... Oh hell..." She stood nervously wringing at the dishrag.
I liked how she swore.
"It's okay," I said. "I forgot too. Now I feel bad. I shouldn't have forgotten, it's just so weird... Part of me is glad when I forget, and then I feel guilty, but I can't help it..." I trailed off
Maggie wiped back a straggle of her hair. "Anyway," she said, "the church is hosting a picnic with the social service in town--for the kids and families with problems, you know? Battered women or kids with parents who died or who are gone in the military--just any family with kids who need some help. I don't know, would you want to come? Help out, meet some of the neighbors? Maybe--if you don't mind, maybe you could bring your camera and take some pictures? Just for the folks who'll be there, they might like some snaps..."
Church picnics are not exactly my thing, obviously. Mom was raised Catholic, I think, but Daddy wasn't anything, or that's what he always said. I don't think I ever went to church. But when we studies the Middle Ages in school, I always kind of liked the stuff about the monasteries. Quiet, orderly, simply: you prayed and ate and worked all at certain times, and it was silent. And modest.
"Really, it's fine if you don't want to." But you'd be absolutely welcome to come."
"Sure," I said. "I'll come. I don't have any church clothes, though."
She laughed. "The pastor'll be in jeans under his robe. God sure doesn't care."
Why not? And if I took a few pictures of people and their kids, why not?
I liked the singing. The hymn books had all the words for you and everyone else knew the melody, and somehow the tunes were so... I don't want to say predictable, exactly, but there was something simple and direct about them, that even I could kind of tell where the lines would go, and after a verse or two I could sing along. Singing with people--another nice thing I never expected.
Afterward, I was introduced to Pastor Dave, a ruddy-faced graying man who shook my hand and said simply, "Bless you and welcome!" He was in fact wearing jeans--and work boots--under his robe. He took off his robe to come into the gathering hall to help set up tables and the men all heaved the tables around with much screeching and scraping of metal and linoleum. More people started coming in with a burst of kids' and women's voices, and there were smells of casseroles and salad dressing and onions. Someone started frying up hamburgers. We stayed inside because the clouds were piling up again, shot through with blazes of sunshine that came and went. I tagged after Maggie, who introduced me to the Kirchners and a bunch of other people, and many of them had the same last names, and I lost track of who was who. They were all very nice and smiled at me and said they were glad to meet me. They did not ask what grade I was in or how long I was staying, though everyone did manage to make some kind of wry comment about how different this must be from Chicago. And every time I said--honestly--that yes, it was different and in a good way. That made them happy, and overall it was pretty easy.
It was like people out here knew how to live with space between them. In the city, there are so many people all in the same place that you storm along and grab your own space before anyone else can take it and act like there's no one else there. And then, when you're with people you do know, it's all hugs and kisses and oversharing about your diet and other people's marriages and the state of your bowels, for all I know. Out here, there was plenty of space for everybody, so you were actually glad to see each other as it happened, and chat and have a friendly word, and then leave spaces for breathing. I was a total stranger, but that was okay.
I got out my camera, and Maggie started lining people up, and I took their pictures, and they all just stood there grinning, and it was no big deal. She knew who everybody was, so we'd sort through the shots later on. I took some candid party shots, just for the heck of it, and then went to find the bathroom. It was down a windowed hallway, and when I came around the corner, I saw a guy sitting on a bench. He didn't notice me. He looked about my age, maybe a little older, so maybe not so much into mom-and-kids theme that afternoon. He sat hunched forward, his elbows on his knees, intent on his cellphone. The sun emerged from the clouds and suddenly rim-lit him: outlined his shape, the curve of his back, the angles of his elbows and shins, light on his forearms and the toes of his boots. I snapped off three shots and the sun disappeared. He still hadn't seen me. The bathroom was right opposite where he was sitting. When I got there, he glanced up and I said, "Hi." And went into the bathroom. I felt embarrassed that he could hear me flush the toilet. He said hi to me when I came out again. What the hell.
"Hi," I said again. "I'm Katie, Katie Myrdal."
"Oh, right. Len and Maggie's, what, niece, right?" I guess word travels fast.
"Yeah. Nice to meet you."
Silence.
"Did you get, like, something to eat or anything?" I asked him."
"Naw, no, thanks. I just brought my little brother to this things. My mom had to work, so I said I'd bring him."
"Oh. Which... which one is your brother?"
"Fat little dude in camo pants." I knew who he meant. "He's Doug. I'm Travis. Travis Gibb."
"Then he turned his head. His hair was shaggy, just uncut long, not on-purpose long, but not all over. The right side of his head was almost bald, just a feathery fuzz, with a few strands off the top falling down. The skin was stiff, shiny, pink, creased, and he didn't really have a right ear, just a gnarly little rim around the ear hole. I felt a little sick, but was damned if I'd let on. The pink shiny skin sheath went down his neck inside his collar. And his right hand... curled, contracted, two fingers missing. He placed his hand by his thigh where I couldn't see it.
"Burns," he said. "You haven't heard the Gibb house fire story yet?"
I shook my head.
"Your dad, I heard he died," he said.
I nodded.
"I'm sorry," he said. "So did mine."
"In the fire?"
This time he nodded. "Back in January."
"But you and your other family are okay?"
"Mom was working. Thank God. I got Dougie out, and he was fine. But my dad... he was done. Nothing to do for him"
"My dad shot himself," I said abruptly. What, was this some kind of competition? Whose dad had the most gruesome death?
"I heard that," he answered. I stood there, twisting my camera strap, while Travis Gibb sat there and looked up at me. "It'll get easier," he said. "Takes a while, though. Maybe not so bad for me. My dad was a song of a bitch."
"Mine wasn't!" I said. "Not to me."
He stood up.
"I better go find Dougie," he said. "See you around, I guess. Maggie and Len are good people. They'll take good care of you."
And he walked away.
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| Shipping in June Reserve your copy at Watermark Books in Wichita. Order now at the Meadowlark Bookstore. Pre-order at Barnes & Noble. Order through Your Favorite Bookstore. Ebook Formats via Smashwords. ... ISBN (print) 978-1-7342477-0-1 ISBN (Ebook): 978-1-7342477-1-8 |
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
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| Reserve your copy at Watermark Books in Wichita! (They have already placed an order. Thank you Watermark!) Order now at the Meadowlark Bookstore Pre-order at Barnes & Noble. Ebook Formats via Smashwords ... ISBN (print) 978-1-7342477-0-1 ISBN (Ebook): 978-1-7342477-1-8 |
What people are saying about Opulence, Kansas:
"Julie Stielstra captured the essence of an adolescent from Chicago who visits a small Kansas community ... Stielstra explores the dynamic and complicated connections among people ... Opulence is complete with heartache, romance, conflict, and resolution. Unpredictable events exhilarate the reader with delightful developments."
"Opulence, Kansas has good tension and keeps the reader turning the pages. It’s a heartwarming book of a girl who learns to look for opportunities in the world around her and begins to create a life of her own."
Send us your comments! We'd love to hear what you think of Opulence.
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| All Hallows' Shadows, by Michael D. Graves is book 3 of the Pete Stone, Private Investigator Series. Now available in paperback and as an ebook wherever you buy books! |
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| Now Available |
James Kenyon has created a fascinating book for the countless Kansans who were heartbroken when their high schools closed. He has done extensive research and has interviewed former students of 109 Kansas communities who lost their high schools, many due to a Kansas school consolidation law passed in 1963. He’s featured at least one school from each of the 105 counties and tells a brief story of the school, the community, and its people. I was pleased that my own hometown, Pawnee Rock, was one of his highlighted schools. It was a painful time for our community. Those who were directly affected by these closures will treasure this book, and the nuggets of small-town history will make this a treasure for anyone interested in the Kansas experience.
~Cheryl Unruh, author of Flyover People: Life on the Ground in a Rectangular State, Waiting on the Sky: More Kansas Essays, and Walking on Water
There is a worldliness in these poems, the kind of grit that accompanies a strong heart. There’s awareness--of the self, of the world. And the poems are populated with the magical, husky things of this earth: warm beer in Berlin, rice in a bowl in a monastery, and stains from fresh cranberries. These are poems we can savor, now and again.
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| Valentine, poems by Ruth Maus Coming to a bookshelf near you! |
Opulence, KS germinated from a seed in a book of Kansas history, describing the 19th century town of Runnymede–founded by a wealthy Irishman who was going to teach the younger sons of British gentry how to farm. It didn’t go well, but some remnants of that project linger in the prairie. Add in some aspects of my adopted hometown of Ellinwood, and Opulence was built, a prairie town where a big-city girl finds herself for the summer in the aftermath of her wealthy father’s death. Katie Myrdal is abruptly shifted from one form of opulence to another, from urban to rural, from material wealth to emotional richness, from a land of vertical skyscrapers to a sweep of horizons and uninterrupted sky.