Your cart is currently empty!
The Short of It: Michael Maitland & The World Is But a Broken Heart
Short story writer Michael Maitland tells us how his debut collection The World Is But a Broken Heart (Signature Editions) is “an ode to the struggles of the working-class,” and shares an excerpt from the story “The Rabbit.”
For Short Story Month, we’re spotlighting one author every Wednesday with a mini interview and excerpt from their short story collection.
All Lit Up: Tell us about your collection in a few short sentences.
Michael Maitland: The World is But a Broken Heart is a series of eleven interconnected stories that follows the lives of the Fitzpatrick family. The hard-working, hard-living, father works at a meat packing plant while the mother works part-time as a cashier. The parents live hand-to-mouth while trying to raise three boys. The brothers look out for each other in the sometimes-violent household. At their heart, the stories are an ode to the struggles of the working-class—in particular when a strike breaks at the plant which pits father against son. Yet amidst the tragedy and grief, there is hope that one of the boys will overcome their struggles and become something more than those before them.
ALU: What do you love about the short story form?
MM: I love the challenge of writing something that, by definition, needs to be contained. To this end, there is an inherent discipline required to write in a genre where you are trying to say so much in so few words. What’s the hook? What is the protagonist’s journey and how does each word, each paragraph deepen the story resulting in a satisfying denouement.
ALU: Who are some of your favourite short story writers?
MM: When I go on vacation or travel for work, I always take a few copies from my pile of The New Yorker with me with the specific goal of reading the short story. I have always been an avid reader of Raymond Carver. I love the uncluttered, simplicity of his prose. I’ve also become a big fan of Elizabeth Strout and have been intrigued and inspired by the journey Olive Kitteridge takes in Strout’s linked stories and books.
ALU: What are three things on your writing desk/place of writing?
MM: A computer, some papers, and my two helpers.
An excerpt from “The Rabbit” in The World Is But a Broken Heart
Patrick sensed that his father had been resigned to putting the rabbit out of its misery the moment she told him what had happened. Henry stared at the woman. He shook his head, curled his lower lip.
“Go with…” he began, looking at the lady.
“Melinda,” she stammered.
“Go with Melinda,” he ordered, turning to his son. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
It was not the time to argue. Patrick followed Melinda to her car.
“Wait at the top of the hill.”
Melinda bit her lower lip and watched as Patrick climbed into the passenger seat. She started up the Escort, reversed it around the Electra, careful not to hit the rabbit, before pulling a three-point turn and turning up the hill in the direction Henry and Patrick had come. As they passed, Patrick gazed at his father. He had pulled another cigarette from the pack and was smoking, staring down at the rabbit. Through the side-view mirror, Patrick watched Henry let the cigarette drop out of his hand and stub it out with his foot before turning to the Electra. He was not one to waste a smoke.
“Poor thing just jumped out of the bush,” Melinda explained as she drove up the hill. “There was nothing I could do.”
As she parked the car and turned off the motor, Patrick listened for the rumble of the Electra engine.
“It’s a man’s work, isn’t it?” she said.
“What is?”
“Killing.” Her eyes were full of fear.
“I guess so.”
Patrick knew it would be quick. Clean. The revving of the Electra’s engine confirmed that the car was moving towards its intended target. Patrick reached over and grabbed the radio knob. The woman gripped his hand, uncertain as to what he was about to do. She stared into his eyes and released her grip. “Sorry.”
Patrick turned the radio on low and stared out the window, tuning in with one ear to the latest hit from the tinny-sounding A.M. station while listening to the Electra with the other. As he stared out across the farmer’s field, at the ripe, golden, waist-high grain wavering in the summer breeze, he cringed, and closed his eyes, imagined his father, his face sombre, hunched over the steering wheel, country tunes rattling from the Electra’s worn-out speakers as he lined the driver’s side tire with the rabbit. He saw the long face of the doomed rabbit, its eyes black with fear, its nose and ears twitching uncontrollably, its claws ripped red as it frantically dug into the oily road as if it could somehow miraculously bury itself below ground level safe from death, yet unable to do anything but stare and claw, claw and stare, as a ton of red steel and chrome crept toward it.
The shifting of gears signalled that Henry was turning the car around, a confirmation that he had completed what the woman had asked him to do.
“Your dad. Is he a farmer?”
“With a car like that? Not likely.”
“What does he do? For a living?”
The engine returned to a steady idle. The time between the sound of the car door opening and closing told Patrick that his father had disposed of the rabbit in the ditch. The magpies let out a collective warble of delight.
“He works at the Tanner meatpacking plant.”
The woman cringed.
“He kills the livestock as they come in,” Patrick continued with a feigned sense of pride. “With a bolt gun.” Patrick began to make a trigger with his thumb and forefinger. The woman put up her hand. She shook her head and turned away.
“He’s good at it.”
“Good at?” she asked.
“Killing things.”
Michael Maitland is a versatile writer, producer and director who began his career in Canada’s Arctic, producing television programming and videos for Television North Canada, the Government of the Northwest Territories and the private sector. After a short stint with CBC North, Michael completed an MFA in screenwriting from York University before moving to Victoria. He has written, directed, and co-produced several feature-length documentaries, including George Ryga: The Political Playwright; Judith Thomson: My Pyramids; Panych Plays; and Richard Margison: The Folk Singing Opera Star. Michael won the National Screen Institute Drama Prize, was a semi-finalist for the Chesterfield Film Company Screenwriting Fellowship Competition, a finalist for the Canadian Playwriting Competition, and former resident of the Canadian Film Centre. He currently works for the Ministry of Attorney General and when he is not writing he can be found riding his bike, swimming, or singing baritone with the Victoria Choral Choir. The World Is But a Broken Heart is his first book.
Thanks to Michael for answering our questions, and to Signature Editions for the excerpt from The World Is But a Broken Heart, available here on All Lit Up or from your local indie bookseller.
Stay tuned for more Short of It next Wednesday when we share a Q&A with Barbara Black.
