To make a photo is to preserve a feeling, to love it into a shape that can be carried…
-Amanda Jo Slone from Salvage, an essay in Troublesome Rising
One of the traditions at the Appalachian Writers Workshop that I love is the participant readings in the afternoons where folks read short pieces of their work for everyone assembled. Maybe it’s work that’s never been shared before, maybe it’s the very first time someone has ever shared their work out loud. There is great vulnerability and courage at these readings, and often revelation. For a number of years now, the readings have been facilitated with compassion and expertise by Amanda Jo Slone. Kind, funny and clear, she keeps everyone on track and on time- and let me tell you, that’s not an easy thing to do. She sets everyone at ease and makes it easy for people to take risks.
Amanda Jo is a gifted educator and writer who works to lift all boats through her work at University of Pikeville and her research project The Appalachian Way, which I hope you will check out.
The line on the ornament is from an essay she wrote for Troublesome Rising about the work of salvaging artifacts and archives from the 2022 flood in Eastern Kentucky.
Diamine Ink color Mittens. The older I get, the more I like pink.
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.
-it remained a place of beautify, seen and unseen, transformed but still lovely.
-Jayne Moore Waldrop from Drowned Town
Lovely is how I would describe both Jayne and this rich wonderful novel of linked stories about homes we can no longer return to. There are a lot of drowned towns in Kentucky and Tennessee, an excruciating sacrifice made when the Tennessee Valley Authority dammed rivers to make lakes during the New Deal to control flooding and create electricity. I had the great privilege of watching this book take form as parts of it was workshopped at Hindman and in a Covid writers group on Zoom that helped me keep my sanity- thank you very much Matthew, Cathy, Jayne, Rachel and Tamela. That Zoom writers group was one of the best things that came out of the Pandemic- two published books were born, including Drowned Town, and who knows, maybe more soon from the rest of us.
Jayne has been super busy with a couple of wonderful and important picture books, a collection of poetry, PandemicLent: A Season ofPoems, and other writing. It’s been too long since I got to spend time with her, but I hope that changes soon. You can find out more about her and her work here: https://www.jaynemoorewaldrop.com
I just can’t seem to capture the beauty of these sparkly inks. This Diamine ink is a deep sparkling violet.
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.
Last year, Fireside Industries published Jane Hick’s remarkable poetry collection The Safety of Small Things, one of my favorite books of 2024. I read it all at once and have dipped back into it again and again. It is such good company. It lends me courage. The book speaks of her journey through cancer, of grief and fear and of the small mercies that can lead you through. I have been lucky to attend workshops and retreats with her at Hindman Settlement School- wise, grounded, funny and focused, Jane raises the energy of every room. Poet in the house, I remember to breathe.
Surely the boy that would love them puppies and kittens was still in there somewhere. If only I hadn’t killed him with the good skillet.
Robert Gipe from Pop
Every time I read or listen to a Jack Tale, I only picture Jack one way- as Robert Gipe. Writer, teacher, artist, activist, organizer, theater maker, Robert has spent his life speaking truth to power. The way he tells it, Truth sneaks in the back door or cracked window in the form of a joke, a story, a drawing, a play. It catches you up in ituntil the disguise is thrown off and you cannot deny the vision of what he is fighting for- respect, dignity and safety for the people of Appalachia. He gives voice to the voiceless.
At Hindman, Robert is Master of the Introduction, King of the Porch, the voice of the Brier in the annual reading of Jim Wayne Miller’s Brier Sermon, and Inventor of the Grippo’s Salad. He is a friend to all, the one you want beside you in a fight. I am honored to know him.
This line is from the third of his trilogy of illustrated novels: Trampoline, Weedeater & Pop. Read them. Really, just do it.
The Fox at Dawn 