-Karen Salyer McElmurray, from I Could Name God in Twelve Ways
I am in the middle of Karen McElmurray’s latest book of essays I Could Name God in Twelve Ways and I can’t count the times I have already had to set the book down to catch my breath and get my bearings. Wow, I have thought, this is bedrock, this is what is real. I am reminded of my first reading experience with Virginia Woolf when I was a young woman. I read the first page of To the Lighthouse and had to put my head in my hands to stop the dizziness as an interior world opened up that was far larger than the exterior one. You can do that? I thought, you’re allowed to do that with writing? That’s what Karen does, she opens vast interior worlds. She is one big beating heart, vulnerable and utterly courageous. I am suddenly thinking of the last painting Titian completed as an old man The Flaying of Marsyas, a gruesome and arresting depiction of the satyr Marsyas, who dared to compete with Apollo, being hung upside-down and flayed alive, an otherworldly expression of transcendence on his face. That’s what it is to be an artist and Karen is an artist. The costs are high.
So kind, so very kind, I treasure all the conversations I have had with her at Hindman Settlement School where she has been a teacher and a mentor. Her work is luminous. I’m grateful for all the love she has sent out to the world.
A writer of fiction and creative nonfiction, she has a beautiful website:
My Advent Tree this year is dedicated to my writer friends and teachers. I am so grateful for all the light you shine in the darkness.
An Apology: I am behind on my Advent tree posts, the last week of school before the holiday break has pretty much done me in, but I aim to catch up in the next few days.
The words will be there waiting whenever you are ready.
-Neema Avashia from Untelling Summer 2025
What a joy to be in Neema Avashia’s writing workshops. She is a master teacher, someone who lights up the room so that you suddenly see all sorts of things you never noticed before. The ink flows, as does the laughter. Like me, she teaches middle school, so mad respect right there. No one knows how to ride the waves like a middle school teacher on top of their game. I’ve been in her section at the Appalachian Writers Workshop at Hindman and I’ve also taken her online monthly generative writing classes that help keep the lights on for me. I received encouragement and affirmation from her when I needed it most. The way she speaks of ‘my book’ as if it were inevitable gives me courage and heartens me. Such kindness. She returns to Hindman this summer to teach creative nonfiction and I am already wishing on every star that I will get to be in her class again.
Her writing is brave and true. Her memoir Another Appalachia: Coming Up Queer and Indian in a Mountain Place has received well deserved awards and praise. On her website you can find links to her many essays and opinion pieces that shine light into dark places.
And here’s where you can register for her monthly generative writing sessions. I just did. They start up in January! You can register just for a single session or sign up for all of them and get a very reasonable price indeed. https://hindman.org/events/generatetogetherjanuary26/
A sparkly blue Diamine Ink.
My Advent Tree this year is dedicated to my writer friends and teachers. I am so grateful for all the light you shine in the darkness.
An Apology: I am behind on my Advent tree posts, the last week of school before the holiday break has pretty much done me in, but I aim to catch up in the next few days.
The Fox at Dawn 