That’s where the single narrative becomes so dangerous. Because people don’t know the history of the region, and they don’t understand its problems. Yet many of those same people have a great number of preconceived notions they aren’t afraid to unleash.
I’m generally not inclined to go all praise the prose about writers because that’s a complement that is subjective. But I don’t know how to write about Harriet Said without telling you that Bainbridge tells a tight, taut story that unfolds in all of its horrifying details.
The Appalachian region faces an uphill battle to survive. But that’s how it was designed. If the region — and its people — have any chance to prosper, it’ll come from the most boring of places: infrastructure building.
As I sat down to write this book, I was faced with this strange tightrope act: I wanted to write a book about why Appalachia and its people ended up as they have, but I also needed to acknowledge its sometimes brutal and horrible history.
The things that have always sustained me, and carried me through the darkness, and given me a world with color: the writing, and the voices, and the stories. I’ve found my voice in the wilderness. I’ve found other voices in the wilderness.
After hours of conversations with Brad outside the podcast, Indianapolis playwright and writer KT Peterson came by to talk about how empathy, performance, curiosity, and writing come together in her work.