Highway Baptism
Two cowboys in a Ford Ranchero pickup truck stop and tell me I can ride thirty miles to Missoula in the truck’s back bed. There have been no cars for nearly an hour. I think for a nanosecond. Then I take the ride.
Essays
A Moment of Deep Beauty
The elderly woman greeted everyone as though she knew them and gave each a bright smile.
Minding the Metaphors
My intention had been to attend a writing retreat, but I suddenly had the feeling that I was actually there to attend a labyrinth retreat.
The Conversation That Continues
It was the fall of 1970, and we were freshmen in high school, that tender, socially feverish age when your friendships are everything and time stands still around every relationship.
The Pulitzer Prize
Thomas Stribling won the Pulitzer Prize for a trilogy he wrote about Florence, Alabama. But when I was growing up in the 1960s, no one in Florence spoke of Stribling anymore.
Going to Meetin’
Here it is, finally, the day when writers and readers throng into Nashville on an October weekend seeking fellowship and elevation of the spirit and news and gossip. But especially old friends and new books.
