Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Taking the top fiction prize with “Ingrid’s Dream” September 23, 2026

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Audrey Kletscher Helbling holds a copy of “Lyrics, Talking Stick #35” next to a Paul Bunyan cut-out at Jack Pines Resort. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo by Randy Helbling, September 2026)

I’M EXCITED TO ANNOUNCE that I am no longer simply a bridesmaid, but now a bride. “But, Audrey,” you’re likely thinking, “you’ve been married a long time.” Oh, yes, I have. However, I recently placed first in a writing competition, making me a “bride” after numerous past honorable mentions and second placings as a “bridesmaid.”

This past Saturday I traveled to Jack Pines Resort near Park Rapids in far northern Minnesota to collect my cash prize and to read my winning short story, “Ingrid’s Dream.” It is the story of a writer who plans to build a writer’s shed with wood salvaged from the barn on the homestead of her great grandparents. Conflict arises when her husband objects.

The beginning of my short story, “Ingrid’s Dream” as published in “Lyrics, Talking Stick #35.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

I’m not giving away the ending to this 564-word short story. You’ll have to buy a copy of Lyrics, Talking Stick #35 published by the nonprofit Jack Pine Writers’ Bloc (no connection to the resort). But I will share that, even though I didn’t realize it while writing this piece back in February, real-life events subconsciously influenced my story. Operation Metro Surge, the federal immigration enforcement effort in Minnesota, was in full-on mode when I crafted “Ingrid’s Dream.” And Ingrid’s great grandparents were Norwegian immigrants with hopes and dreams.

This story is in no way a political statement. Those are not allowed in the Talking Stick competition. But it touches on immigration, reminding all of us that, unless we are Native or the descendants of slaves, we are, or are of, immigrants.

To read Ingrid’s story aloud to an appreciative audience of Minnesota writers and others on Saturday felt simultaneously humbling and empowering. I was honored to have my work initially selected by the Talking Stick editorial team for prize consideration and then chosen by Minnesota author Jeanne Cooney for the top fiction prize. Cooney writes the Hot Dish Heaven mysteries and the It’s Murder series.

(Book cover sourced online)

Lyrics, Talking Stick #35 features the work of 68 writers who are either Minnesotans or who have a strong connection to our state. That’s an entry requirement. In this year’s contest, 132 writers submitted 330 entries with 71 poems, 18 creative nonfiction stories, 15 fiction stories and 17 creative twist stories chosen for publication.

This shows past volumes of “Talking Stick” in which my work has published. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2024)

I enter in all four categories, a bit of an anomaly among writers. My writing has published for nearly 20 consecutive years in the Talking Stick anthology. In addition to the fictional “Ingrid’s Dream,” my creative nonfiction entries, “About That Hole in the Wall” and “Unlocking Silence,” made it into this year’s book. One is about an embarrassing cardboard wall covering a hole in my dining room and the other about an aged accordion gifted from an aunt to her nephew.

While listening to other writers read their works at Jack Pines Resort, I was once again reminded of the incredible creative talent rooted in Minnesota. This includes recognizable names like Nicole Borg, Charmaine Pappas Donovan, Laura L. Hansen, Margaret Hasse, Mike Lein, Niomi Rohn Phillips and more along with Brenda Charpentier, a newbie to the competition and first place winner in creative nonfiction. Like me, she comes to creative writing with a journalism background as does another writer, Bernadette Hondl Thomasy, originally from Owatonna and with a poem and creative nonfiction story published in Lyrics, Talking Stick #35.

My admiration of Minnesota writers was reinforced after the reading when some of us socialized and talked shop afterwards over dinner. Writing is such a solitary pursuit. But in gathering with others who love the craft, I felt a surge of energy, of validation, of gratitude that I can do what I love. Write.

FYI: Lyrics, Talking Stick #35 is available for purchase online.

 

Lost somewhere among the jack pines of northern Minnesota September 23, 2024

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 2:15 PM
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Once we got west of Pine River, we were driving in unfamiliar territory. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)

I FOLLOWED THE PRINTED directions as the phone squawked them aloud. We were about 15 miles west of Pine River, turning off County Road 2 (in whatever county) onto Minnesota State Highway 64.

My eyes moved down the paper, scanning for the next turn after three miles on the state highway. Take a left onto 12th St SW, Randy had written. He jotted the directions just for me because he knows I like the route mapped on paper.

“I hope it’s not gravel,” I said, noting the street, not county road, wordage

No sooner had the words popped from my mouth than the phone directed us left onto 12th Street. Randy steered off the highway. Onto gravel. Then the phone ceased barking. Our cell service had dropped.

Randy stopped the van after I protested. “I don’t want to drive on 7.3 miles of gravel.” I’d read ahead on the directions, noted the distance and noted the next two turns, onto Huntersville and Hubbard Roads. Probably more gravel.

If only we’d gone old school and relied on an atlas or a paper map. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)

“Let’s just look at a map and figure out where to go,” I said, reaching for the glove box. No map. Randy had failed to transfer maps from our old van into the new-to-us used van we bought earlier this summer. I asked about an atlas, which we sometimes carry with us. Nope, that would be in my office.

So there we were, in the middle of nowhere in an unfamiliar area of northern Minnesota. No cell service. No map. No atlas. No anything except understanding that we needed to head northwest to reach our destination, Jack Pines Resort a mile outside of Osage. By that time I was feeling stressed. I had a book launch party to reach by 1 pm. I can’t even tell you what time it was at that point, except time to get moving.

Randy swung the van around, got back onto the northbound state highway, then took the next westbound asphalt road. I thought we were back on track…until the road began to curve, then straighten, then curve. Mile after mile after mile for perhaps 20-plus miles. Speeds dropped, sometime as low as 25 mph. We were not making good time. I was not a happy wife. Or a happy writer.

Eventually we reached our destination, Osage, shown here in the center of an atlas map. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)

Eventually, spotty cell service returned, long enough to open my email and read directions to the resort sent by the book event organizer. I felt my body relax. We might make it on time. And we did. With 10 minutes to grab name tags, pee and settle onto comfy chairs in the back row.

So what did we learn? You cannot rely on cellphone directions, especially in a no-cell-coverage-middle-of-nowhere-location. Always write down directions. Check that the planned route does not include gravel. And carry a paper map in your glove box. Had we done all of those things, I would not have been a stressed wife who was mad at her husband. But at least I wasn’t a stressed writer worried about reading her work aloud at the book launch party. I was too distracted by the stress of being lost.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling