West Village is not just a place of refuge. For the exiled Mormons, it has become something far more unexpected: a workshop. Here, in the cold northwest, a family that lost everything is learning to build again—one rabbit, one recipe, one delicate ornament at a time.
But survival is not only about making money. It is about healing. As the memory of the Five begins to return—fragmented, painful, incomplete—the family gathers around him, holding on to hope. And as the New Year approaches, with its rituals of renewal and remembrance, a question hangs in the air: What does it mean to build a future when the past is still not fully known?
For readers who love stories of resilience, craft, and the quiet miracles of everyday life—this is a novel about a family that refused to disappear, and the small, beautiful things they create while waiting to be whole again.
BLAINE WILLIAMS writes stories about the things we make—with our hands, with our hearts, with the fragments of lives that have been broken and rebuilt.
A writer with a deep appreciation for craft and the traditions that connect generations, Williams brings a tactile quality to his fiction. He understands that the most profound acts of resistance are often the quietest: a recipe perfected, a knot tied just so, a piece of jewelry that brings joy to someone who thought joy was lost. His work celebrates the dignity of labor and the unexpected ways that creativity can become a lifeline.