"Neville's observations on inner and outer worlds deserve a large readership." —Studies in Short Fiction"Blending fictional and reportorial technique, Ms. Neville unwinds a tapestry of the Indiana seasons . . . in scene after remarkable scene she succeeds in disturbing and undermining one's calm. . . . moving . . . " —Christopher Lehmann-Haupt, The New York Times" . . . shrewedly perceptive studies of the poetics of place . . . Neville pierces the heart of this 'heart of the country,' unloosing disquieting images and poignant scenes that cling to your memory." —Belles Lettres"If there is darkness in this vision there is also compassion, a lucid and inclusive civility born of remembering how fragile are the houses of our lives." —Arts Indiana"A collection of essays, works of fiction and blends of those two genres, Indiana Winter is a poetic and disturbing interpretation of phenomena familiar to most of Neville's fellow Hoosiers—so familiar, in fact, that we may not really see them. . . . As a plunge into the blackness and glare of the examined life, Indiana Winter is a testament to courage." —Dan Carpenter, Indianapolis Star"These stories and essays are filled with great emotion and affection for the people and the land we've come to know as the Hoosier state." —Minneapolis Star Tribune" . . . a book that is firmly and honestly rooted in region, yet finds in its careful and lyrical examination of Indiana's people and places truths that move the prose pieces away from simple regionalism." —Sycamore ReviewA sensitive writer's imaginative essay-stories about spiritual boundaries and values in the state of Indiana and everywhere.

"I started this meditation on the first day of Lent. I hope to keep going every day until Easter. Each day I go fishing in the water of this internal voice. This week the water's still, this angled pen a blue sail; the hook is lazy in the estuary, the water the color of lapis. So what if I don't catch a fish? I said that I would fish; that's all I promised. I bait the hook with each day's discipline. I have no guarantees that there is anything at all to catch in these particular waters, that something beneath the surface won't grab my pen and pull me under." —from IconographyWhen Susan Neville enrolls in an icon-painting class in the cellar of an Indianapolis monastery, she begins a journey into a fascinating hidden world where saints are fabricated of mineral and wood, yolk and blood, earth and time. The process is tedious, and she begins to make mistakes, to become impatient; she doesn't feel ready for the challenge. To prepare herself, Neville makes a vow to write during the 40 days of Lent. What emerges is a journal, a meditation, a series of confessions that we are invited to listen to as we follow Neville's sometimes painful attempts to reveal the truth and discover the mystery of her existence. In the layering of colors and moods, her writing is the spiritual equivalent of an icon. As she observes the world around her and applies the paint of language to her observations, she realizes that spirit and matter are not separate—that now and then moments of meaning emerge from daily life, and the stillness and majesty of the universe shine through.

Calling on the image of the Midwest's vanished inland sea, Susan Neville has written a compelling collection of essays that ponder writing and the "landlocked imagination." The essays range from interviews with Indiana writers Kurt Vonnegut, Scott Sanders, Marguerite Young, and others, to discussions on techniques grounded in a Midwestern sensibility. As director of Butler University's Visiting Writers Series, Neville has had the rare opportunity to converse with such literary giants as Salman Rushdie, Ray Bradbury, and Toni Morrison, and some of those exchanges have been incorporated into this exciting new collection.

"Neville's observations on inner and outer worlds deserve a large readership." —Studies in Short Fiction"Blending fictional and reportorial technique, Ms. Neville unwinds a tapestry of the Indiana seasons . . . in scene after remarkable scene she succeeds in disturbing and undermining one's calm. . . . moving . . . " —Christopher Lehmann-Haupt, The New York Times" . . . shrewedly perceptive studies of the poetics of place . . . Neville pierces the heart of this 'heart of the country,' unloosing disquieting images and poignant scenes that cling to your memory." —Belles Lettres"If there is darkness in this vision there is also compassion, a lucid and inclusive civility born of remembering how fragile are the houses of our lives." —Arts Indiana"A collection of essays, works of fiction and blends of those two genres, Indiana Winter is a poetic and disturbing interpretation of phenomena familiar to most of Neville's fellow Hoosiers—so familiar, in fact, that we may not really see them. . . . As a plunge into the blackness and glare of the examined life, Indiana Winter is a testament to courage." —Dan Carpenter, Indianapolis Star"These stories and essays are filled with great emotion and affection for the people and the land we've come to know as the Hoosier state." —Minneapolis Star Tribune" . . . a book that is firmly and honestly rooted in region, yet finds in its careful and lyrical examination of Indiana's people and places truths that move the prose pieces away from simple regionalism." —Sycamore ReviewA sensitive writer's imaginative essay-stories about spiritual boundaries and values in the state of Indiana and everywhere.

"I started this meditation on the first day of Lent. I hope to keep going every day until Easter. Each day I go fishing in the water of this internal voice. This week the water's still, this angled pen a blue sail; the hook is lazy in the estuary, the water the color of lapis. So what if I don't catch a fish? I said that I would fish; that's all I promised. I bait the hook with each day's discipline. I have no guarantees that there is anything at all to catch in these particular waters, that something beneath the surface won't grab my pen and pull me under." —from IconographyWhen Susan Neville enrolls in an icon-painting class in the cellar of an Indianapolis monastery, she begins a journey into a fascinating hidden world where saints are fabricated of mineral and wood, yolk and blood, earth and time. The process is tedious, and she begins to make mistakes, to become impatient; she doesn't feel ready for the challenge. To prepare herself, Neville makes a vow to write during the 40 days of Lent. What emerges is a journal, a meditation, a series of confessions that we are invited to listen to as we follow Neville's sometimes painful attempts to reveal the truth and discover the mystery of her existence. In the layering of colors and moods, her writing is the spiritual equivalent of an icon. As she observes the world around her and applies the paint of language to her observations, she realizes that spirit and matter are not separate—that now and then moments of meaning emerge from daily life, and the stillness and majesty of the universe shine through.

Calling on the image of the Midwest's vanished inland sea, Susan Neville has written a compelling collection of essays that ponder writing and the "landlocked imagination." The essays range from interviews with Indiana writers Kurt Vonnegut, Scott Sanders, Marguerite Young, and others, to discussions on techniques grounded in a Midwestern sensibility. As director of Butler University's Visiting Writers Series, Neville has had the rare opportunity to converse with such literary giants as Salman Rushdie, Ray Bradbury, and Toni Morrison, and some of those exchanges have been incorporated into this exciting new collection.