#1: Scar Tissue by Patrick Cullen
Released: 2008
Available in: The Sleepers Almanac No. 4
I recently attended a salon celebrating some seriously talented writers, including Emily Maguire, Steven Amsterdam and Kalinda Ashton. The final writer was Patrick Cullen , who I had first read in 2007; it was this same writer that I feverishly sought immediately after the Salon, to soak up his words in a new light.
Patrick Cullen's first book, What Came Between was released in 2009 to immediate critical acclaim. He is a master craftsman with heart, his stories intricate portraits of believable characters reacting as best as they can to difficult situations. And Scar Tissue, published in The Sleepers Almanac No. 4, is Cullen at his finest.
The Story
Paul wakes at four in the morning to find Carol already up and sitting at the edge of the bed. When he asks her what she's doing, she says she's going for a walk. Paul decides to go with her, and together, they head to the beach.
Once there, the story flashbacks to earlier days; Carol has found a lump in her breast. A doctor confirms the worst; they'll need to take most of the breat to be sure of getting rid of the cancer.
Paul and Carol wade through the aftermath, taking us back to the present, and their day at the beach. They both head out naked into the water, seeking to reconnect, to find what's been left behind from the trauma they've shared. Carol asks if he still loves her and he says "You're my wife, of course I still love you."
Paul bodysurfs back to shore, while Carol waits a little longer. When he calls her back to the sands, she swims slowly, awkwardly, until the water is at waist height. A jogger comes past and her first instinct is to cover up her missing breast, but then she lets her arms fall to her sides, leaving the jogger in disbelief as he runs on down the beach.
Why it Sticks
Put Simply, Patrick Cullen is a master of intimate storytelling. Reading his work, you feel as if you've been let into a secret space, where love comes from difficult moments, and commitment is as simple as tellng your wife to join you naked in the ocean.
His prose is sparse but emotive, and in Cullen's world there are no quick fixes, or perfect moments, or if such moments are perfect, they are so because of their imperfections, their awkward characters, their fears and desires given away by every action and the words they don't say.