My short story Stench has been published by Cold Mountain Review — the literary journal of Appalachian State University. I couldn’t be more pleased with the home this story found.
I set out to make the story as viscerally disgusting as I could. I’m told I succeeded. But there was a point to the disgust and I’m hoping that comes through.
You can read (or listen to it) here.
Let me know what you think! I love comments.
At the behest of my writing group partner, Beverly Bisbee, I took her daughter’s, Kathy Bisbee’s, class on digital storytelling. It may have changed my life. I get to combine my love of photographs and images with my love of storytelling.
This video is my first foray in this medium. It still needs work and probably always will, but I want to share it. This represents hours of work. Hopefully, I’ll get better and faster. Please enjoy!
Several months ago I was approached by Bobby Lee Messer about doing a video reading of my work. I said sure, but he had to provide the writing prompt. He did. And I wrote. And he videoed.
It was fascinating! I’ve never seen that side of things before and had no idea what went into making a 3-minute video. A lot of work!
The editor at WestVirginiaVille, where I’m the Minister of Paragraphs, published the video this afternoon. I look old and fat, but that’s okay. This was about new experiences and it was a grand one!
Today is, I’m told, National Moonshine Day. To celebrate, I offer you my short story The Plum.
It should be noted that The Plum is very much a real thing and not a product of my imagination.
I was first introduced to it on a camping trip on the Williams River in Pocahontas County. The more manly and womanly amongst us made a point of “eating the plum” — I wasn’t one of them.
The Plum gets its name, of course, from the plums that are placed in the jar. Moonshine is poured over and the plums are allowed to steep. The ‘shine turns a beautiful color and the moonshine is flavored with ripe plum.
I’ve lived in West Virginia since 1985. Moonshine is de rigueur when non-Appalachians visit. When you live in a barn, folks expect you to have moonshine. I seldom comply. The real stuff is hard to come by and kind of expensive. On principle, I refuse to buy the legal stuff. I’m not sure what the principle is, but toddling down to the liquor store and buying a quart of moonshine doesn’t feel authentic.
I made up the origin story. I have no idea if it’s a hundred-year-old recipe or concocted for the first time in the early ’90s when I first tasted it. But I’ve tasted it at various intervals and it’s good. Really good. Although, a sip or two will do me. Mercy, a quart would last me a decade.
The Williams River is my happy place. It’s my favorite spot on the planet. I am so thankful for that one 4th of July where I got to experience all of the wonder and power and magic of a bunch of hillbillies camping, playing music, and sipping The Plum.
And, if you’d like to hear me reading The Plum, here ya go:
Willy and Me on the Williams River
W. Va. Fur and Root 