Chapter 16
A Community of Tennessee Writers, Readers & Passersby

Life of Two

Margaret Verble weaves the real and imagined in When Two Feathers Fell from the Sky

FROM THE CHAPTER 16 ARCHIVE: In her beguiling When Two Feathers Fell from the Sky, novelist Margaret Verble, a 2016 finalist for the Pulitzer Prize and an enrolled citizen of the Cherokee Nation, reimagines, for her own wily aims, the Nashville of a century ago, with allusions to Jim Crow, W.E.B. Du Bois’ Talented Tenth, and the city’s white gentry.

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Power to Harm and to Heal

A veteran religion writer considers the changing church 

In Reorganized Religion, journalist Bob Smietana examines the evolution of America’s Christian institutions.

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Unfixable Beauty

Ross Gay incites revolutionary thinking through sharing joy, fruit, and poetry  

In his latest book of essays, Inciting Joy, poet and professor Ross Gay explores 14 ways to find joy in difficult times like these (which is to say, always). Gay appears in conversation with Adam Ross at Nashville’s Parnassus Books on November 8.

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Where the Badness Lives

Rebecca Bernard explores dangerous territory in Our Sister Who Will Not Die

By carefully wielding dangerous points of view, Rebecca Bernard’s debut story collection, Our Sister Who Will Not Die, discovers a fascinating variety of ways to tell stories that push into risky terrain.

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Vibrating with the Possibility of What You Might Become

Kevin Wilson’s latest novel considers the transformative power of art

“We were responsible for one of the weirdest mysteries in American pop culture,” admits Frankie, the protagonist and narrator of Sewanee author Kevin Wilson’s latest novel, Now Is Not the Time to Panic. Wilson will appear at Parnassus Books in Nashville on November 7 and SoLit’s Club Lit Fundraiser in Chattanooga on November 17.

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Brushing the Divine

For novelist Amy Greene, a haunted town hidden on the Cumberland Plateau is the perfect place to write

FROM THE CHAPTER 16 ARCHIVE: The Celts believed heaven and earth are three feet apart but even shorter in these thin places. Are such locations where we’re able to brush up against the divine? Sometimes writing feels to me like a brush with the divine. Maybe that’s why places like Rugby call out to those of us who write, putting stories into our heads and almost demanding that we set them down on paper.

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