Category Archives: Essays

“The Love ‘Tween Our Brothers and Sisters Will Last” by Terry Barr

“You know Buddy, right? He says he knows you from junior high.” I played along with Jo Beth, not wanting her to know that I had no idea who this “Buddy” was. I knew my Buddy’s. I was a Buddy. … Continue reading

Posted in Essays

“Altar Call” by Rori Leigh Hoatlin

Every Sunday for the first ten years of my life, I went to church. In all that time, I missed the part in the Bible where it told me that I was in charge of letting Jesus into my heart. … Continue reading

Posted in Essays

“Southern Separation Anxiety” by M. David Hornbuckle

The press materials for Michael Farris Smith’s upcoming novel Rivers compare it to The Road, Cormac McCarthy’s 2006 Pulitzer Prize-winning journey through post-apocalyptic Appalachia. The comparison is obvious from a marketing perspective, though it may be a blessing as well … Continue reading

Posted in Essays

“The Real Thing: My Life in Coke” by Deborah Gold

When I was ten, I would sit on the floor in front of the television, winking at the door-length mirror angled towards me. Wearing periwinkle Danskin elastic-waist shorts and a striped sleeveless top, I hugged my bare knees to my … Continue reading

Posted in Creative Non-Fiction, Essays

“Tobacco Road Revisited” by Rita Welty Bourke

What must my father have felt when he came into the house at the end of the day, and his five-year-old daughter held her arms up to him, and her breasts were nearly as large as those of a grown … Continue reading

Posted in Creative Non-Fiction, Essays

“Separate, But…” by Terry Barr

Secrets are opened in moments like this: “Daddy, why are you and Mommy sleeping in different bedrooms?” The befuddled Daddy stares at his six-year old son, a boy not old enough to understand that he wasn’t supposed to ask this … Continue reading

Posted in Essays, Non-Fiction Prose

“Wrestling with Jews” by Terry Barr

What does a small-town Southern boy take away from watching grown men in tights faking their way through “Boston Crabs,” “Sleeper-holds,” and “Neck-Breakers?” When I was growing up, I remember that the weakest of our four TV channels—WBMG 42—aired from … Continue reading

Posted in Essays, Non-Fiction Prose