The Stillness Accord
About
In a world where faith has been silenced, one man’s journey becomes the key to reclaiming what was lost.
When Micah Emerson discovers a hidden journal in the ruins of his former church, he uncovers clues to Avenel—a secret community where religious expression might still exist. Once a passionate choir director, now a compliant janitor for the Harmony Accord, Micah must decide whether to risk everything for the possibility of finding his voice again.
The Accord’s Noise Laws have criminalized prayer, preaching, and singing for almost a decade. Religious buildings stand empty or repurposed, sacred texts have been censored, and an entire generation has grown up never hearing music. But beneath this enforced silence, resistance grows through unexpected means—signs drawn in dust, rhythms tapped on surfaces, memories preserved through movement and touch.
As Micah navigates a dangerous landscape of surveillance and conditioning, he builds unlikely alliances with those who have adapted to life without sound—Layla, who communicates through sign language; Rebecca, who survived when others didn’t; and Sophia, who has never heard music but teaches it through hand movements. Together, they discover that some things cannot be silenced, only transformed.
“The Stillness Accord” explores the resilience of faith when traditional expressions are prohibited, the power of memory to preserve what matters most, and the human capacity to find beauty even in desolation. It’s a story about the cost of enforced silence and the unexpected ways that voice—both literal and metaphorical—finds a way to be heard.
Josh Wolstenholm’s debut novel reminds us that even in our darkest moments, we are never truly alone, and that sometimes the most profound expressions of faith emerge when we must find new ways to speak our truth.
Praise for this book
This story is soft-spoken but deeply moving. Micah’s journey from silence to purpose is full of quiet resistance and small moments that hit hard. The world felt eerily plausible, and the idea of faith surviving through gesture, rhythm, and memory was both beautiful and heartbreaking. Some parts move slowly, but that’s part of the book’s strength—it gives space to feel. If you’re looking for something reflective, sincere, and quietly hopeful, this one stays with you.