Skip to main content Skip to search Skip to search

Fiction Family Life

Border Markers

by (author) Jenny Ferguson

Publisher
NeWest Press
Initial publish date
Sep 2016
Category
Family Life, Literary, Noir
  • Paperback / softback

    ISBN
    9781926455693
    Publish Date
    Sep 2016
    List Price
    $15.95
  • eBook

    ISBN
    9781926455709
    Publish Date
    Sep 2016
    List Price
    $11.99

Add it to your shelf

Where to buy it

Description

Shortlisted for the Cover Design Award at the 2016 Alberta Book Publishing Awards!

After the accidental death of a teenaged friend, the Lansing family has split along fault lines previously hidden under a patina of suburban banality. Every family has secrets, but for the Lansings those secrets end up propelling them in different directions away from their border town to foreign shores and to prison.

Told in thirty-three flash fiction narratives, Border Markers is fractured like the psyches of its characters, all keen edges and tough language. It’s a slice of prairie noir that straddles the line between magical and gritty realism. Jenny Ferguson’s debut is a compelling collection of commonplace tragedies and surprising insights.

About the author

Jenny Ferguson (she/her/hers or they/them) is Métis and white, an activist, a feminist, an auntie, and an accomplice with a PhD. She believes writing, teaching and beading are political acts. Border Markers, her debut novel, was released September 2016. She teaches at Loyola Marymount University and in the Opt-Res MFA Program at the University of British Columbia. Feel free to get in touch with her online at www.jennyferguson.ca or @jennyleeSD. Her work is represented by Patricia Nelson at Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.

Jenny Ferguson's profile page

Awards

  • Short-listed, Cover Design Award at the Alberta Book Publishing Awards

Excerpt: Border Markers (by (author) Jenny Ferguson)

Excerpt from “The Story of the New Bumper”

Running late. Cruising along on empty, the light flashing, that warning gong making itself known as Mike attempted to minimize the visual impact of his bald patch in the rear-view mirror by tilting his head in increments. On the passenger seat lay a sad looking bouquet of grocery store checkout flowers, heavy on the limp, little white ones. He drove to that little store, half diner, half grocery store at lunch, out in Lashburn today. That’s why his tank hadn’t lasted the week. An unintentional trip. The red sticker caught Mike’s eye and he thought about peeling it from the Cellophane. Changed his mind as he shifted lanes, accelerating. It might be best if she saw he’d spent a few dollars thinking about her today.

The gas station was coming up on the left. If he didn’t turn in, he’d wind up late for work tomorrow. He’d be late for the morning meeting, would miss those minutes when everyone was busy and he could flirt with the new redhead, the secretary, transferred from out east, when he could take a shit in the bathroom on the second floor before the employees working there showed up and wanted to spend twenty minutes in the bathroom taking a shit of their own. So Mike turned into the gas station, reached out to keep his coffee mug from falling from the too-small cup holder, like he did every time he turned left.

One empty spot. Only one on account of the afternoon price drop.

Mike went for it, driving a bit too fast around the corner. He’d have to back in, but it would get him home quicker, to work on time in the a.m. A red dually truck, its bulky wheels heading towards Mike’s spot. Trying to take it from him. “Not going to happen, buddy. Never going to happen. Wait your own turn, asshole.” He whipped around the second corner with a wicked squeal.

The dually stopped when Mike took the corner. Gave in to Mike, backed off. Time to go for the brake, but during that last left turn, Mike had forgotten to hold a hand out to steady the coffee mug and it came up out of the too-small holder, fell to the floor, rolled under the brake. Mike jumped the curb and hit the pump. A hiss escaped from the pump. The woman at the pump ahead of Mike dropped her gas cap and ran for the road, her arms flailing above her.

Mike felt around the passenger seat for his cellphone, mangling the flowers when they got in his way. He hit the speed-dial. “Yeah, I’ve got a problem. At the Esso just east of Lloydminster.” He took a breath, his hand shaking as he reached for a cigarette. The people around him still standing at their pumps, admiring the truck and damage from a distance, began yelling. “Yeah. An accident,” Mike replied into the phone, flicking at his lighter.

Editorial Reviews

"Ferguson is a master of short form… [Border Markers is] the kind of book you instantly want to re-read."
~ Will J. Fawley, The Winnipeg Review

"In these subtle stories, what is left out carries more weight than what is stated. The delicate structuring and balance of the flash fiction can be upset by removing a sentence…. Ferguson knows how to craft flash fiction, and, in the end, her stories become a novella told from many perspectives."
~ Ava Homa, Herizons

"Turning the pages of Ferguson's terrific first book is a clue-finding mission that leaves the reader wanting more."
~ Rebecca Geleyn, The Fiddlehead

"This is a quick yet emotional read—a look at a place full of people that stay with you long after you’ve read it."
~ Suzanne Baltsar, Bookish