Arkansas Arts Council Fellow

SouthernLit

We are Diamonds

For Anita  Out my back window, I can see the dreary light of winter, the tufts of grass gone to gold, the rose vines…

southern-lit

Girls Who Run

Sometimes a girl just has to run. Sometimes her feet take over. This is one of those times, early morning, early January. I’m at…

SoutherLit

What Brings Us Home

When Bobby Romeo was going on nineteen, he left the hills with his tail afire. I never seen a body want to leave home…

SoutherLit

Who We Really Are

Libby Gallus, at fifteen, has had it. What happened is this: her mama has turned in to somebody entirely different. Her Grandma Iola, who…