Yearly Archives: 2015

What Our Writers Are Reading Now

What Our Writers Are Reading Now

We asked three of our contributing writers to tell us about a book they are currently reading. The poetry of Marianne Worthington (“I Saw Bobby Bare Kiss Marty Stuart”) and Doug Van Gundy (“Listening to a Recording of Edden Hammons Playing ‘General Washington’s March'”), and the creative nonfiction of Karen Salyer McElmurray…

Calling Out the Dead

I was a sound sleeper in my teens. My mother’s voice used to break through my dreams, waking me for school with news. Hey, that funny guy from Saturday Night Live died, what’s his name, Ackroyd? Or, They shot one of the Beatles. I’m trying to hear her tone again,…

Mary Yoder, Walking

I think of Mary Yoder standing just outside the kitchen door, one foot holding it open, swatting mosquitos in the white flood light. She smoked a cigarette like it was delicious. Her waist-length hair was tied back in a tight ponytail and then braided—she hadn’t figured that part out yet.…

Fall 2015 Editor’s Note

In her memoir Bone Black: Memories of Girlhood, bell hooks writes of growing up in small town Hopkinsville, Kentucky, in the 1950s—of a girl “young, gifted, and black” who finds refuge in books, who creates a secret world, who notices the roles women and men play in her culture. It’s…

Night in the Burned House

In my old bedroom, in this house now my Aunt A’s, walls mottle grey into black, char hiding that this room was ever painted purple in a hope that someone would guess, would know. Burning night, my hidden journals blown across the field—and my aunt, gathering boughs for wreaths, found…

Pushcart Prize Nominees Announced

Appalachian Heritage is proud to announce its 2015 Pushcart Prize nominees: Wiley Cash: “When You Say ‘Home'” (Fiction, Spring issue) Lucien Darjeun Meadows: “Night in the Burned House” (Poem, Fall issue) Beth Newberry: “The Curve of the Smoke” (CNF, Fall issue) Natalie Sypolt: “Stalking the White Deer” (Fiction, Spring issue)…

Memorate

The field. Light. Morning. Then, my father, uncle. Apples, everywhere. In boxes, in palms, in teeth. Apples, everywhere. The black mare. Wild. The black mare that dawned from the mountain. Wild. The rough sketches of my earliest memory. My father places me on the back of the beast & we…