Let’s kick off today’s book talk with Lance Holland’s “The Little Tennessee River: Following the Cherokee Path” (The History Press, 2026, 224 pages).
In his story of this river, Holland takes an interesting approach to the past. He focuses our attention on the many transitions and developments in transportation and industry which the passage of time has brought to our mountains: the coming of the European settlers, the opening up of the mountains along the river with trails and rough roads, the railroads drawing in tourists and industry, the dams that provided electricity here and elsewhere, and most recently, the return of some of this land to an earlier state of wilderness.
Holland’s story of geography, development, and commerce brings us accounts of those men and women — the Cherokee, the early settlers, the loggers, miners, and dam-builders — who left their mark on the region, while certain other chapters of history necessarily receive short shrift in his narrative. With the exception of his description of the 1865 skirmish between Union and Confederate troops at White Sulphur Springs, for example, Holland says little about the Civil War in these mountains.
On the other hand, he rightly spotlights the early history of the Little Tennessee River, particularly in regard to the Cherokee. Here he shares with readers their initial contacts with the whites coming from the east, then brings that light to bear on the tangled history of settlers and Cherokee in the late 18th and first half of the 19th centuries. Here, too, we meet the primary historical figures of that time, like Chief Junaluska and William Holland Thomas.
Yet the main protagonist in this survey of the past is the Little Tennessee River and the valleys and hills surrounding it. It’s a valuable addition to the history of our region, and Holland brings a lifetime of exploration and local knowledge to its pages. Among his several previous books are histories of the Nantahala River and Fontana Dam, and “Hiking Trails of the Smokies.” He’s also served as a scout and collaborator for movies made in these mountains, like “The Last of the Mohicans,” “The Fugitive,” and “Nell.”
Perhaps the author’s familiarity with the region explains the one quibble I have with “The Little Tennessee River.” The first 40 pages or so of the book refer continually to hills, streams, and towns both ancient and modern with which I’m unacquainted. Holland means these place names as guides to the terrain, but all too often, with only a brief mention and no anchor like an historical incident to fix them in the mind, they drift by without any real meaning.
In Holland’s account of William Bartram’s famous early expedition into the mountains, for instance, we encounter this sentence: “Bartram crossed the Chattanooga River at Earl’s Ford; ascended Warwoman Creek to Saddle Gap; skirted Clayton, Georgia; and reached the Eastern Continental Divide at Mountain City.” This inventory of travel left me lost in the wilderness.
As I say, however, that’s a quibble. “The Little Tennessee River” is local history at its best and most valuable.
And now for something completely different, as the tagline from the old Monty Python show put it:
In “More Slices: Experiences, Essays, and Poems” (Precision Communications, 2026, 130 pages), Susan Lannan Hicks takes readers back to her undergraduate and post-college days 50 years ago, adds a sampler of her verse, employing a variety of topics and themes, and then tops off her book with three essays, one on marriage, another in praise of the “hippie subculture” that still endures today, and a short manifesto by her friend Myles Doak, “My Life Philosophy.” Some poems by another friend, Samuel Hazo, are also included. The book’s title refers to her 2024 volume, “Slices of Life: Inspirations and Understandings.”
For those of us who are about the same age as Hicks, her “experiences” from the 1970s will bring back memories. She meets “The Maestro of Love” Leo Buscaglia, for instance, the professor, speaker, and best-selling author who was just becoming famous for his hugs and his philosophy of warmth, love, and affection. Hicks’ accounts of the teens she counseled after graduating college bring back the confusion of the time: the drugs, the drifting, the young people often racked and wrecked by broken hearts and broken dreams.
Because the episodes in this portion of Hicks’ book tend to jump around a bit, the narrative at times can grow confusing. At one point, for instance, Hicks writes of moving to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, “where my parents were living and where we lived in a rented trailer boxed between a VFW post and a Little League baseball field …” Unless I missed something in my reading, I was left with no clue as to why her parents were living in a trailer in such a place.
Because “More Slices” is largely a book of reflections on the past and lessons learned, it seems appropriate to sum up the book with Hicks’ poem “Soon As …”
“soon as you think
that everything’s okay
something starts to clink
or grate along the way
soon as you feel that everything’s alright
something starts to reel
or spiral out of sight
soon as you know
that everything is blown
someone comes to show you
the way that you should go
you’ve always known”
(Jeff Minick reviews books and has written four of his own: two novels, “Amanda Bell” and “Dust On Their Wings,” and two works of nonfiction, “Learning As I Go” and “Movies Make the Man.” minick0301@gmail.com.)