Rocks & Roots
Donna Salli
Wild-Haired Women: On Writing, Portals, and Pig Sties
The barn was a portal—to step into it was to go back in time—and that barn, that farm, shows up repeatedly in my writing, literally in my essays and poems and fictionally in one of my plays.
Where the Sidewalks Ended
My mother and I were standing in the echoing salesroom of the feed store, one of those dusty,...
Flames: The Life of a Writer
I like quiet. I like to be alone. I enjoy a social gathering but afterwards need to shut my...
Rocks and Roots
When I was in my late teens—quiet, a bit shy around people I didn’t know well—I was hanging out...
The Heart
I always knew I was going to write, to be a writer. When I was four, my family lived in town,...
A Cat’s Tale
If you live in the sticks, you live with mice. My folks’ farm was in the sticks, a mile off the...
