Abstract

Editor's Note Jason Kyle Howard In May, on the heels of a cold snap, Appalachian literature lost one of its finest poets with the death of Ron Houchin. I mention the chill in the air because when I think of Ron and his work, winter comes to mind—or at least a brisk day that calls for a thick, woolen cardigan to brave the elements. A grey Irish sky, dimming at the close of the day and speckled, perhaps, with a murmuration of starlings. Always, stillness. He had a way of suspending time in his poems—of directing his readers' vision with his own keen eyes and gift for language toward something worth witnessing, worth remembering. [End Page 6] As an editor, it was always a pleasure to publish his writing. I knew that whenever I opened one of his submissions I was in for an encounter that would see his words ring through my head the rest of the day. I will miss those emails, and I know our readers will miss his work. In this issue, we are proud to announce the winners of the 2021 Denny C. Plattner Awards. Our fiction section features "Eviction Notice," a layered short story from Kasia Merrill, and we have the pleasure of introducing you to Leo Coffey, a promising young writer who contributes "Orange Soda." In her essay "Where Do You Come From," Rachel Kesselman takes the reader from Appalachian Pennsylvania to Paris and then to Washington, D.C. Quincy Gray McMichael, a nonfiction writer and poet who runs a farm in West Virginia, offers an evocative reflection on how the music of Paul Simon has carried her through life. Award-winning poet Kathleen Driskell transports us to other places and realms, and pays a moving tribute to her friend Claudia Emerson, the late Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, while Bill King contributes resonant poems steeped in the natural world. We're also proud to feature an interview with Neema Avashia, author of the much buzzed-about memoir Another Appalachia: Coming Up Queer and Indian in a Mountain Place, and an insightful craft essay on the work of Toni Morrison by Daniel Kennedy. As autumn begins its approach, I'm reminded of one of Ron's poems, "Unrequited Everything," of his absence—and his continued presence: The day hugged emptiness, the familialsound of raw rain, a close echo of metaland sighs. No sun distracted from the mysteryof coming darkness. A namehung like an answered prayer. [End Page 7] Copyright © 2022 Berea College ...

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