Rocks & Roots
Donna Salli
Twice Full of Words: On Writing and Sisters
My grandparents had apple orchards, right next to their houses. As my grandfathers grew older and stopped mowing the hayfields, apple trees popped up everywhere. I like to think it’s a metaphor for my family. Quite a few of us on my mother’s side are writers, and I see no surprise in it. One of my mom’s grandfathers was a writer in Finland, the original tree. Growing up, I would hold in my hand the one book of his that we owned, and I’d burn with certainty: this, this shaping of words, was my purpose.
Sometimes, a Chicken: On the Path to Magic
I’m drawn to white animals. Over breakfast last Tuesday, I found myself thinking about the white...
Wednesday, Again: On Art, a Hurricane, and Stepping on Toes
The poet Emily Dickinson wrote, “I’m Nobody! Who are you?” I’ll whisper that line to myself. It’s...
Let’s Say: On Writing, Epiphanies, and Broken Waters
I sat down at my desk this morning. 5:00 a.m. I’d fed the dog and made coffee. It was time to...
In-Laws, Outlaws, and Iowans: On What Calls Our Names
When I began working on my novel, “A Notion of Pelicans,” I was a newlywed, my husband’s roots...
A Bit Blue: Family Stories as Inspiration
It’s June, again, month of weddings, of so much hope and joy. My own wedding anniversary is in...
