At a time of new beginnings, novelist Adam Ross contemplates his past
by Adam Ross
January 3, 2012 “I write these words as a man with a Ph.D. in failure, and I commenced my subject’s study on the day I decided to become a writer, a life-changing choice I made in 1986, after taking a creative-writing class my sophomore year at Vassar College. How many times did I fail? Let me count the ways.” As the rest of the country makes resolutions for self-improvement, celebrated Nashville novelist Adam Ross considers the value of failure.
Published Monday, 5 January 2015
A Chapter 16 writer tells a tale of two Christmases
December 19, 2014 When I was a child, Christmas at Granny Browning’s house was about tradition, not pleasure. Christmas at home was an orgy of expensive presents and junk food. Both of them were wonderful and awful—and both were gifts to last a lifetime.
Published Friday, 19 December 2014
In launching a nonprofit literary center, a writer nurtures her own creative life in surprising ways
December 18, 2014 Six women gathered around and bravely shared their writing, some for the first time. Their enthusiasm and laughter were contagious, their easy camaraderie a stroke of luck. Workshops don’t always give rise to a circle of friends, but this one did. I could see that much. What I couldn’t see yet was how it was also working as the start of something else.
Published Thursday, 18 December 2014
A boy in a coal town finds his way out of the dust
by Pete Kopcsak
December 17, 2014 Mothers stopped peeling potatoes and scrubbing clothes to stand on bare porches and watch. We fell on the weeds in front of us and cupped our hands into imaginary telescopes and pressed them to our eyes to watch the kite as long as we could.
Published Wednesday, 17 December 2014
A poet joins the NAACP march in Ferguson, Missouri, and learns he was wrong about the role of race in this country
December 16, 2014 I’ve been asked more times than I can count why I marched with the NAACP. Friends wondered if I believe Michael Brown was really innocent. Marchers wondered why a white poet from Denver would make such a journey. There’s no simple answer to either question.
Published Tuesday, 16 December 2014
A well-endowed woman goes in search of a new sports bra
by Faye Jones
December 15, 2014 It is a truth universally acknowledged that a woman of a certain chest size will always be in a want of a well-fitting bra. This axiom is never truer than when said woman is a runner in need of a new sports bra.
Published Monday, 15 December 2014
A son serves as witness to his parents’ enduring love
by Hadley Hury
December 12, 2014 My mother understood that my father’s death was at hand. For my part, I understood that their love for one another and their straightforward, practical faith would see them through this profoundest of transitions.
Published Friday, 12 December 2014
I learned to be a serious novelist when I moved to Tennessee
October 20, 2014 After college, I moved a dozen times—from Indiana to New Jersey, Wyoming, Vermont, Connecticut, and Tennessee—before settling in Chicago. Each of these places etched themselves on my psyche, but Nashville, with its fruit tea, tangy barbeque, and hot chicken, was the place where I learned to be a writer.
Published Sunday, 19 October 2014
A Chapter 16 writer considers the collective spirit of the Southern Festival of Books
October 10, 2014 The Southern Festival of Books is big, varied, and one of the most inclusive cultural events around. Chapter 16’s Maria Browning considers the special pleasure of the festival’s collective spirit. The twenty-sixth annual Southern Festival of Books will take place in Nashville October 10-12, 2014, at Legislative Plaza and the Nashville Public Library. All festival events are free and open to the public.
Published Thursday, 9 October 2014
Decades after first reading Walden, Michael Sims still finds Henry David Thoreau exciting and challenging, maddening and inspiring
by Michael Sims
August 18, 2014 When I first read Thoreau as a teenager, I quickly realized that I had found a magic carpet to my own rural Tennessee world. Henry helped me see and hear and smell my own woodland paths, and my own pond, with fresh senses. He brought a deeply poetic sensibility and a fine education to bear on observing the passenger pigeon and red squirrel, and I tried to apply his way of looking to my own rose-breasted grosbeaks and box turtles.
Published Sunday, 17 August 2014
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