Writing

"Building a Bridge ," Quibble, Issue 8.

It wasn’t going to be a big bridge, just two lanes, about three hundred feet long and twenty feet or so above the Little Sandy River. Most people would drive over it without noticing they were crossing a bridge. Construction had just begun in the spring of 1973 when I started as an inspector’s helper with my father, an engineer with the Kentucky Highway Department. I had dropped out of college in what would have been the last semester of my engineering degree.

"The Queen of the Banjo Players," Still: The Journal, Issue 38, Winter 2021.

I was looking for a specific grave. As I explored the graveyard, I saw a rock almost hidden in knee-high grass at the edge of the cemetery, next to the woods. I pushed the grass aside and read the words: "Gertrude Phillips / Queen of the Banjo Players."

"Relics," The Nasiona, Issue 16, November, 2019.

We enshrine our relics in museums and churches or keep them safe in our homes, where the sight or touch of them brings back memories and associations. But how much does the authenticity of a relic matter? What if they have no real connection to what or who we remember?

"Appalachian Antigone," Floyd County Moonshine (11.2 Fall 2019) , www.floydshine.com

My cue came. I stepped forward and delivered my lines, carefully enunciating “Dionysus” with my eastern Kentucky accent. The director began laughing helplessly, followed by the rest of the chorus and cast, and the rehearsal collapsed. I laughed too, not knowing what else to do.

"Catbird Brain for the Writer," Brevity Blog, August 8, 2019.