Synopsis: Abbe is a restless young mother living on the outskirts of Honolulu with her husband, Greg, the pastor at a small church. Their lives are suddenly riven by tragedy when their three-year-old daughter, Cleo, is struck and killed by car. As Greg turns to God and community for comfort, Abbe turns inward and reflects upon her own troubled past. Isla Morley brilliantly weaves the story of Abbe’s grief with a gripping tale of her tempestuous childhood in apartheid South Africa—and how Abbe’s father, a villainous drunk, held her family hostage for decades with his rage, until they finally began to plot their escape from him. Come Sunday is a spellbinding drama about a woman breaking free of her grief and of her past, and what it takes to revive hope when all seems lost.
Q: The story in Come Sunday revolves around the main character, Abbe’s, experience of two emotionally charged, traumatic life events: The death of her child, and her memory of growing up among domestic violence. How did you envision the relationship between these two experiences?
A: Like many of us, Abbe covered up her past pain and trauma, and hoped that things would straighten themselves out, given time. But beneath the wallpaper the cracks were still there, some of them threatening the structural integrity. When her daughter is killed, it is not just this loss Abbe must face, but also the loss of her own youth. Personal tragedy erases the timeline so that she is at once a young mother and a young girl, each having to fight an enormous battle. At the same time, she hears both the ghostly song of her deceased daughter and the hushed whispers of a long-ago murder.
I can’t say I planned to tie the present tragedy to the drama of the last summer of her youth. But whenever I tuned to the frequency of Abbe’s inner conversations, and to those she had with her husband, I kept hearing the belligerent voice of her father and the acquiescent tone of her mother. It was only when much of the book was written, that I went back and realized the lesson: the past is like the buckets African women carry on their heads – there comes a time when they have to be emptied. The walk then becomes a little easier.
Q: The death of one’s child is commonly spoken of as one of the most difficult and confusing moments for a parent, one impossible for outsiders to comprehend. How difficult was it to capture this sense of grief, and what sources were you able to call on in developing your characters?
Part of capturing this kind of grief was imagining myself, also the mother of a young child, in Abbe’s situation. And part of it was dealing with a character who holds nothing back. The difficulty for me was writing scenes where Abbe shattered what was expected of her. I sometimes wanted her to be a little “nicer,” but this is a woman who is on a ledge, who isn’t interested in being nice. And it’s because her grief pushes her past the commonplace that she has a chance at making the really big decisions, and finding hope and meaning.
Some of the characters were inspired by people I know or ended up being composites of people I’ve met. Some – like Abbe – just showed up.
Q: The whole concept of faith is an emotionally charged topic. Did you have any concerns about taking on this sensitive issue? Was there ever a moment where it just seemed too large and difficult an undertaking? And if so, how were you able to move beyond it?
A: I didn’t think about any of these things when I was writing the story. Faith and belief and doubt are all part of the mix along with love and marriage and friendship. To me, it was just natural to fold them all together; it’s part of my makeup. And yes, faith is an emotionally-charged subject, as it should be. Tepid: ugh!
When the book was finished, I wondered whether certain Christian groups would have a problem with Abbe’s struggle with God. As it turns out, both Evangelicals and liberal Christians have resonated with it, as have those who aren’t religious. Perhaps this has to do with all knowing what it is like to walk through the valley of the shadow.
I did worry about getting a publisher, though. In fact, a writer friend of mine asked me to consider deleting all the spiritual references in order to increase the odds. But I kept thinking Abbe’s issues with faith are the same issues that many of us face. The main thing was to keep her struggle authentic. And this turned out to be the same opinion as my publisher.
Q: What do you hope readers will take away from reading this novel?
A: Suffering is transformative and redemptive. The crisis that undoes you becomes the twine that stitches you back together again. A different you, yes, and maybe a little less neat around the edges. But someone real, and deep, and powerful. At the center of that power is the capacity to forgive. If we can forgive others, if we can forgive ourselves, we can do anything.
-m.k. ericson
Isla Morley grew up in South Africa during apartheid, the child of a British father and fourth-generation South African mother. During the country’s State of Emergency, she graduated from Nelson Mandela Metropolitan University in Port Elizabeth with a degree in English Literature. By 1994 she was one of the youngest magazine editors in South Africa, but left career, country and kin when she married an American and moved to California. For more than a decade she pursued a career in non-profit work, focusing on the needs of women and children. She has lived in some of the most culturally diverse places of the world, including Johannesburg, London and Honolulu. Now in the Los Angeles area, she shares a home with her husband, daughter, two cats, a dog and a tortoise. www.islamorley.com 
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Annette – your response to the story is what every author must surely hope for. Many thanks for your kind words and astute observations.
It’s too early to talk about the next book, as I go hacking through tall weeds in another rewrite, but expect deep themes and events that utterly challenge and change one.
This is an amazing book……beautifully written, very moving, touching on issues important to every one….ie our relationships to one another….. how we live our lives, how we relate to death, which comes to us all, and the all- important issue of forgiveness…of others as well as ourselves.!!!
Thank you for a wonderful read!! When/what is your next book????