Julie Tuovi
Bio
History enthusiast, concert pianist, and attorney (but only when there’s nothing better to do), Julie lives in a small town near the the majestic, Wasatch Front, where her only complaint is that the library isn’t nearly big enough.
Stories (4/0)
The Box
TODAY My darling daughter, It’s been nearly five years. And yet, I find myself—standing here on the eve of your birth—in complete shock that yet another year has flown by. The precious baby you once were slipping even farther into memory. Leaving me both sad, aching for your smallness, and happy, too. In awe. At the beautiful stroke of color your life has left on the page of our existence.
By Julie Tuovi3 years ago in Fiction
The Unrelenting Dreams of Mary Gold
For seventeen years, the good folks of Keeltown County enjoyed the lofty, undisputed reputation for producing the finest crop of marigolds. Plants with tall sturdy stalks, sharp bract leaves, and fat blooms that exploded across the county in fiery waves of tangerine and xanthous every May, and didn’t disappear until October, when the first frost curled their leaves.
By Julie Tuovi3 years ago in Fiction
Gray
My island is painted in shades of gray. In smudges of light and dark. Making up everything from the rolling, pulsing currents of the deep sea, to the white crested waves that crash against the basalt cliffs. Stone so dark, it’s almost black, rising up in dizzying columns that lord over the ocean, damp and inky with sea spray.
By Julie Tuovi3 years ago in Fiction
Batfish
Singing batfish and cockatoos have more in common than most people think. The trick is to ignore the batfish’s reptilian dorsal fin (along with those claws, which, frankly, could gut a grizzly from snout to tail with a sneeze), and simply focus on the notes.
By Julie Tuovi3 years ago in Fiction
