God Isn't Here Today

WINNER OF THE 2023 RELIT AWARD FOR SHORT FICTIONSHORTLISTED FOR THE 2023 INDIGENOUS VOICES AWARDSLONGLISTED FOR THE 2023 CAROL SHIELDS PRIZEFor fans of Chuck Palahniuk, Joyce Carol Oates, and Karen Russell, the stories in Francine Cunningham’s debut collection God Isn’t Here Today ricochet between form and genre, taking readers on a dark, irreverent, yet poignant journey led by a unique and powerful new voice.Driven by desperation into moments of transformation, Cunningham’s characters are presented with moments of choice—some for the better and some for the worse. A young man goes to God’s office downtown for advice; a woman discovers she is the last human on Earth; an ice cream vendor is driven insane by his truck’s song; an ageing stripper uses undergarments to enact her escape plan; an incubus tires of his professional grind; and a young woman inherits a power that has survived genocide, but comes with a burden of its own.Even as they flirt with the fantastic, Cunningham’s stories unfold with the innate elegance of a spring fern, reminding us of the inherent dualities in human nature—and that redemption can arise where we least expect it.

The Quarantine Review"This is a fierce collection: fiercely smart, fiercely funny, fiercely inventive. Francine Cunningham takes the reader from strip clubs to God’s waiting room, from a tormented ice cream truck driver to a bored ghost with career aspirations. This collection almost reads like a novel, as the characters move in and out of each other’s stories

Praise for God Isn't Here Today: "Cunningham's characters find light in darkness, music in silence, and moments of transformation when they least expect it."

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

The note was posted on the door. It was scratched out in ink that faded near the end, like the pen had decided to dry up at just that moment. You could see the swirling lines where a heavy hand had tried to force more ink out, then gave up in an indented trail that petered off the edge of the page. The note itself was taped up in a tilted line, as if the taper had done so in a hurry and only as a last-second precaution in the unlikely event a person, like myself, bothered to show up at the door. I gently peeled the note off the white wood, brought the paper up to my face, and rested the tip of my nose against it, to study the words of God closer. The letters were shaky, as if written by a trembling hand. The ERE all blended together in a mess of lines. The Y longer than all the other letters, stretching halfway down the page. I knew there was a branch of science you could take that analyzed writing, could let you know if someone was a serial killer, a mom, a firefighter. But since God is all of these things, I guess the handwriting meant nothing more than what is said: God isn’t here today. But the note didn’t say anything about tomorrow. That could mean God would be in. Or it could mean God wouldn’t. Or maybe God would come back someday, but not in the near future. Or God could have written the note years ago, and just never bothered to come back. Or it could mean that today really just meant the today that found me standing in front of the door. The only day I’d ever bothered to go down to God’s office. The only day I’d ever actually needed God.

About the Author

Francine Cunninghamis an award-winning writer, artist, and educator who spends her summer days writing on the Prairies and her winter months teaching in the north. Francine is a member of the Saddle Lake Cree Nation in Alberta but grew up in Calgary, Edmonton, and 100 Mile House, BC. Francine is also Metis and has settler family roots stretching from as far away as Ireland and Belgium. She currently resides in Alberta and previously spent over a decade calling Vancouver her home.Her debut book of poems On/Me (Caitlin Press) was nominated for The BC and Yukon Book Prize, The Indigenous Voices Award, and The Vancouver Book Award. Her debut book of short stories God Isn’t Here Today (Invisible Publishing) was longlisted for the inaugural Carol Shields Prize for Fiction. Francine also writes for television with credits including the teen reality show THAT’S AWSM! among others and was a recipient of a Telus StoryHive grant. Her fiction, non-fiction, and poetry have also appeared in The Best Canadian Short Stories, The Best Canadian Non-Fiction, in Grain Magazine as the 2018 Short Prose Award winner, on The Malahat Review’s Far Horizons Prose shortlist, and on the 2022 CBC Poetry Prize longlist, among others.You can find out more about her at http://www.francinecunningham.ca

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