THE BOOK

In its aftermath, trauma has a gravitational pull. Seemingly mundane aspects of life are forever transformed, and so trauma has a distinct flavor to it.

Sometimes this influence is direct, logical perhaps. Certain places lay in the trauma’s shadow, certain people bear its weight. Other times, the path is not so direct. Sometimes, trauma shows up in fruit snacks.

Wormwood is an autobiographical apocalypse narrative told through the lens of angels and snack food. The apocalypse, however, isn’t a big Revelation-style end of days, but a personal descent through trauma.

Andy is a down-on-his-luck bartender who, in a drunken stupor, happens upon an equally drunken street preacher who sings the praises of the star Wormwood. Wormwood, in the biblical Book of Revelation, is the star that poisons the Earth’s waters.

Despite dire warnings of impending doom, Andy swigs the preacher’s bottle of vermouth. What follows is five days of apocalyptic visions, manifested each time Andy eats or drinks something.

As celestial hosts tend to, these manifestations offer Andy lessons. Warnings. Each food embodies as itself, to be sure, from a floating popcorn head to a grim candy corn Katrina. They also, however, represent a deeply held truth about the nature of coping and loss. Not the pain of a doomed species, but the singular trauma of a man.

There’s levity here. Andy is aloof, a goof even. He meets whimsical characters like a celery juice robot and a cappuccino toting Capuchin monkey. Despite the whimsy, however, the deep and abiding truth of each character’s character is the point.

Like real trauma, the highs are high, the lows are low — one day’s comfort is another day’s grief.

As with snack food, the book is bite-sized. Each encounter is just a few pages, but the gravity and accumulation of all these moments build to an enormous commentary on trauma. It’s silly — an attempt at working through personal anguish with jokes, puns and absurdity.

The human brain naturally leans on metaphor. Food is no different. It carries with it cultural context and personal meaning. Wormwood, fantastical as it is, uses peanut butter and jelly and fish sticks to tell a resonant story. A deep story. A true story.

THE BEVERAGE

BLOOD ORANGE SIMPLE SYRUP

Boil 1 cup water, 1 cup sugar and one quartered blood orange for one minute. Remove from heat and infuse for 30 minutes. Strain and store in the refrigerator for up to seven days.

Wormwood is inspired by, steeped in and dedicated to wormwood. So, a wormwoodinfused liqueur (or two) was requisite. Absinthe and vermouth bolster the tequila with bitter and vibrant aromatics, while the blood orange simple syrup adds some bright acidity and sweetness. Complex, with a wee bit of whimsy, just like the book.

Wormwood is available at: Lithic Bookstore in Fruita, Paonia Books in Paonia and Curiouser Books in Montrose.

Originally published in the summer 2025 issue of Spoke+Blossom.

Sips + Symbolism: A Bittersweet Journey Through Trauma in "Wormwood"

THE BOOK

THE BEVERAGE