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On occasion, Appalachia Bare likes to spotlight some of our best submissions. “Copperhead Holler” was written by Bridgette Johnson, the talented Honorable Mention author of our 2020 George Washington Harris Short Story Contest. We are proud to present this submission for your enjoyment.     Bridgette Johnson holds a Bachelor’s ofContinue Reading

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On occasion, Appalachia Bare likes to spotlight some of our best submissions. “Elijah” was written by Daniel Dassow, the talented Third Prize winner of our 2020 George Washington Harris Short Story Contest. We are proud to present this submission for your enjoyment.   Daniel Dassow is a sophomore at the UniversityContinue Reading

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From time to time, Appalachia Bare likes to spotlight some of our best submissions. “Louis” was written by talented storyteller, Kipper Evans, and was the Second Prize winner of Appalachia Bare‘s 2020 George Washington Harris Short Story Contest. We are proud to present this story for your enjoyment.   KipperContinue Reading

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From time to time, Appalachia Bare likes to spotlight some of our best submissions. “Grow Lavender for Luck Child” was written by talented storyteller, Linda Hinkle, and was the First Prize winner of Appalachia Bare‘s 2020 George Washington Harris Short Story Contest. We are proud to present this story forContinue Reading

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A note from the poet: This poem was inspired by “Appalachian Elegy #6,” a poem from a larger collection by the late Bell Hooks who passed away on December 16th. I wrote “Giles county rapture” before Ms. Hooks’ untimely passing, and, in my most naïve moments, I had hoped thatContinue Reading

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Plain seeing Flash, and the flatlander eye swoons with star glint and eardrum roaring crack, a copper spark in sight sounding It was everest over town’s end the thunderhead on high rising to ordovician climes Nearly alleghenies, still half atlas with shoulders lowered since the dislocating swell in pangaea’s heartContinue Reading

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Poor Boy’s Gospel My dad died before I could kill him. I always imagined reading back his sins like Saint Peter. I’d reprimand his absence, scorn the idle time he’d wasted, and end with the two kids he’d failed the most. But by then, the man dead to me hadContinue Reading

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  Tennessee Red Cob Grasping the bound ear with the heel of my left hand, I pierce the top shucks with both thumbs, punching open a slit. Dry husks rip with a groan and squeak as the great creamy teeth gleam. Another hard tug frees the whole magnificent horn ofContinue Reading

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grandmother she lived in that dirt and baking- soda soil, her drywood fingers cradling book pages gentle as if she were holding a bird, turning those well-worn wings, their songs rustle the living room curtains. her feet shuffled through breakfast with black coffee, and she napped late in the afternoon.Continue Reading

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We commend everyone who participated in Appalachia Bare’s poetry contest. We received such phenomenal poetry, which made it quite challenging to make decisions – so much so that we have two Honorable Mentions. Without further ado, we announce the following George Scarbrough Poetry Contest winners:   Prizewinners and Honorable MentionsContinue Reading