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All That's Unseen: An Appalachian Memoir
The New York Times bestseller • A Southern Book Prize finalist
“[An] achingly intelligent memoir . . . we finally have an Appalachian memoir worthy of its origins.” —New York Times Book Review
“Unflinching . . . Hackney gives readers an intimate look at a way of life unfamiliar to many. . . . [A] gripping exploration of identity, class, religion and a large swath of American life that is fighting with all its might to survive.” —Atlanta Journal Constitution
In her luminous debut, Emilee Hackney offers both a love letter to and a reckoning of the place that made her—a story of losing her faith, finding her way back to her Appalachian home, and discovering what endures
Born and raised deep in the hollers of the Appalachian Mountains, Emilee Hackney knew little beyond the ridgelines and coalfields of southwest Virginia. As an eighth-generation Appalachian, her childhood was steeped in the stories of her grandparents—tales of the coal mines’ brutal grip and the way the land, both beautiful and unforgiving, never quite let anyone go. At fourteen, Emilee meets Sam, a senior at her high school, who offers her a glimpse at a promising future together. But as they begin attending services at Deliverance Christian Church as a couple, Emilee is thrust into the radical realm of Pentecostalism. In a culture where marriage at nineteen isn’t uncommon, Emilee is engaged to Sam. Eager to make her relationship work, she embraces the extremist doctrines of the religion, submitting herself fully to God, to Sam, and to a life of repentance. But what she doesn’t yet know is the man she plans to marry is not who he claims to be.
Years later, Emilee finds herself isolated from friends, family, and her own sense of truth. Wracked with shame and self-doubt, she reaches a breaking point. On the verge of spiraling out of control, in a stunning act of defiance and hope, she applies to Harvard; against all odds, she is accepted. From the magisterial mountains of Tazewell to the storied halls of Cambridge, Emilee begins the arduous process of reinventing herself and her relationships with her home, faith, and values against the backdrop of the divisive 2016 election. All That’s Unseen is Emilee Hackney’s fiercely honest memoir about spiritual entrapment, hard-won liberation, and the courage to reclaim her voice after she had been taught to stay silent.
“[An] achingly intelligent memoir . . . we finally have an Appalachian memoir worthy of its origins.” —New York Times Book Review
“Unflinching . . . Hackney gives readers an intimate look at a way of life unfamiliar to many. . . . [A] gripping exploration of identity, class, religion and a large swath of American life that is fighting with all its might to survive.” —Atlanta Journal Constitution
In her luminous debut, Emilee Hackney offers both a love letter to and a reckoning of the place that made her—a story of losing her faith, finding her way back to her Appalachian home, and discovering what endures
Born and raised deep in the hollers of the Appalachian Mountains, Emilee Hackney knew little beyond the ridgelines and coalfields of southwest Virginia. As an eighth-generation Appalachian, her childhood was steeped in the stories of her grandparents—tales of the coal mines’ brutal grip and the way the land, both beautiful and unforgiving, never quite let anyone go. At fourteen, Emilee meets Sam, a senior at her high school, who offers her a glimpse at a promising future together. But as they begin attending services at Deliverance Christian Church as a couple, Emilee is thrust into the radical realm of Pentecostalism. In a culture where marriage at nineteen isn’t uncommon, Emilee is engaged to Sam. Eager to make her relationship work, she embraces the extremist doctrines of the religion, submitting herself fully to God, to Sam, and to a life of repentance. But what she doesn’t yet know is the man she plans to marry is not who he claims to be.
Years later, Emilee finds herself isolated from friends, family, and her own sense of truth. Wracked with shame and self-doubt, she reaches a breaking point. On the verge of spiraling out of control, in a stunning act of defiance and hope, she applies to Harvard; against all odds, she is accepted. From the magisterial mountains of Tazewell to the storied halls of Cambridge, Emilee begins the arduous process of reinventing herself and her relationships with her home, faith, and values against the backdrop of the divisive 2016 election. All That’s Unseen is Emilee Hackney’s fiercely honest memoir about spiritual entrapment, hard-won liberation, and the courage to reclaim her voice after she had been taught to stay silent.
384 pages, Hardcover
First published July 28, 2026
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 694 reviews
August 2, 2026
A memoir that covers a lot of ground- Appalachia, Pentecostalism, sex and relationships, mental illness, Harvard - but rarely digs into any of it. Frustratingly surface-level throughout. Her experiences in and related to the church, in particular, deserved more scrutiny than they get. Needed more self-awareness and hard introspection. I don't know if the author herself has begun to examine the experiences recalled in the book with that sort of eye, though. This book may have benefited from some more time and maturity. It’s hard not to wonder whether (or how much) her connection to Michael Pollan, her Harvard professor and advisor, helped smooth the path to publication.
August 5, 2026
I wish the author had written this book when she was 58 not 28.
More about the time post college to now (which she talks about in interviews for the book)- dropped out of Vanderbilt, she hiked the Appalachian Trail, did not move back to her hometown, has a child and works as English professor? Felt like she wanted to the end the book with her back at home since she constantly implied she would. But that’s not the reality (and that’s okay! Normal! Healthy!)
I felt confused by her never seemingly making her own choices. Even the book was an idea by her professor. She seemed astonished at the idea of finding a job after graduation. Her thesis was about Appalachia but had to find out about the current state of the economy from people when she returned home like Uncle? Had to learn about Trumps track record in Appalachia after being prompted to do so by a faculty member reading her op Ed in the paper?
This book needed reflection. Time. Growth. Would love to read a forward by her in 20 years about this.
Hope she follows her own interests and studies and learns more.
More about the time post college to now (which she talks about in interviews for the book)- dropped out of Vanderbilt, she hiked the Appalachian Trail, did not move back to her hometown, has a child and works as English professor? Felt like she wanted to the end the book with her back at home since she constantly implied she would. But that’s not the reality (and that’s okay! Normal! Healthy!)
I felt confused by her never seemingly making her own choices. Even the book was an idea by her professor. She seemed astonished at the idea of finding a job after graduation. Her thesis was about Appalachia but had to find out about the current state of the economy from people when she returned home like Uncle? Had to learn about Trumps track record in Appalachia after being prompted to do so by a faculty member reading her op Ed in the paper?
This book needed reflection. Time. Growth. Would love to read a forward by her in 20 years about this.
Hope she follows her own interests and studies and learns more.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 21, 2026
Forgive me if this is a bit jumbled, but I just finished this book and am truly so excited about it that I wanted to fire off my thoughts asap. To begin, this is a compelling, poetic, honest, and beautiful memoir that also does a wonderful job of capturing the complexity of Appalachia, which is something I feel the world-at-large isn’t too great at.
It’s easy to label the area as uneducated, unhealthy, and less cultured than the rest of the country - stereotypes that anyone who has ventured out of these hollers has had to cope with in some way. But Appalachia is so much more than those over-simplified labels, and Ms. Hackney’s memoir is a lovely example of how that’s so.
As someone who grew up near her hometown, I related deeply to many of her experiences, but I’m confident that even if you haven’t experienced religious trauma, felt the death of the mining industry in some capacity, etc., you’ll be able to connect to the author’s vulnerability. It’s a beautiful representation of what an Appalachian memoir should be.
Highly recommend.
A huge thank you to Penguin for the advanced copy!
It’s easy to label the area as uneducated, unhealthy, and less cultured than the rest of the country - stereotypes that anyone who has ventured out of these hollers has had to cope with in some way. But Appalachia is so much more than those over-simplified labels, and Ms. Hackney’s memoir is a lovely example of how that’s so.
As someone who grew up near her hometown, I related deeply to many of her experiences, but I’m confident that even if you haven’t experienced religious trauma, felt the death of the mining industry in some capacity, etc., you’ll be able to connect to the author’s vulnerability. It’s a beautiful representation of what an Appalachian memoir should be.
Highly recommend.
A huge thank you to Penguin for the advanced copy!
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
I find memoirs can go one of two ways. The author has enough distance and maturity to look back on a life or event with a clear view of what happened and why it happened. This author is not just retelling a story. They are providing the reader the insight they gained to learn some sort of lesson. The author doesn't have to beat you over the head with it. However, they do need to have a point.
The other way a memoir can go is just by retelling a story. This narrative may have plenty of twists and turns. They may be an extraordinary person. They may have overcome significant odds. However, are they able to give the reader something to take away from the book other than, "Wow, that was kind of a wild ride."
Unfortunately, I think Emilee Hackney falls into the latter category. All That's Unseen is the story of her sheltered and challenging upbringing in rural Appalachia in southwestern Virginia. She has a rather fraught relationship with religion, her family, men, and ultimately would end up going to Harvard. For those of you thinking of Hillbilly Elegy, yes, there are some similarities.
I have many criticisms, but I want to start with the positives. Hackney is very likeable. She can write well. I was never tempted to throw this book aside and not finish. Her story is enlightening in some ways. Quite simply, with a bit more distance, this same book can be updated with more insight and be a classic. It's just not there yet.
For instance, the first 50 or so pages are set up for Appalachia and Hackney's family. It is a vibrant start to the book which I expected to really hammer home the family aspect of her story. Instead, the next part of the book almost completely ignores her family, and parents especially. Instead, the second part is about her descent into a controlling church environment and romantic relationship. When that is done, she is off to Harvard. Hackney is not building upon what came before. She is moving from major event to major event. Yes, there will be quick callbacks to previous trauma or family elements, but they feel perfunctory. There is a family tragedy in the epilogue that should be poignant for the author (and I am sure it was), but for the reader, the work hasn't been done to make it hurt. Instead, it feels like another tragedy that just happened.
Hackney also doesn't quite put together why she does the things she does. The narrative feels like it is happening to her with no payoff where she begins to make decisions on her own with the scars and knowledge of what came before. I think she will one day put it all together. However, it feels like she is just not there yet.
(This book was provided as a review copy by Penguin Press.)
The other way a memoir can go is just by retelling a story. This narrative may have plenty of twists and turns. They may be an extraordinary person. They may have overcome significant odds. However, are they able to give the reader something to take away from the book other than, "Wow, that was kind of a wild ride."
Unfortunately, I think Emilee Hackney falls into the latter category. All That's Unseen is the story of her sheltered and challenging upbringing in rural Appalachia in southwestern Virginia. She has a rather fraught relationship with religion, her family, men, and ultimately would end up going to Harvard. For those of you thinking of Hillbilly Elegy, yes, there are some similarities.
I have many criticisms, but I want to start with the positives. Hackney is very likeable. She can write well. I was never tempted to throw this book aside and not finish. Her story is enlightening in some ways. Quite simply, with a bit more distance, this same book can be updated with more insight and be a classic. It's just not there yet.
For instance, the first 50 or so pages are set up for Appalachia and Hackney's family. It is a vibrant start to the book which I expected to really hammer home the family aspect of her story. Instead, the next part of the book almost completely ignores her family, and parents especially. Instead, the second part is about her descent into a controlling church environment and romantic relationship. When that is done, she is off to Harvard. Hackney is not building upon what came before. She is moving from major event to major event. Yes, there will be quick callbacks to previous trauma or family elements, but they feel perfunctory. There is a family tragedy in the epilogue that should be poignant for the author (and I am sure it was), but for the reader, the work hasn't been done to make it hurt. Instead, it feels like another tragedy that just happened.
Hackney also doesn't quite put together why she does the things she does. The narrative feels like it is happening to her with no payoff where she begins to make decisions on her own with the scars and knowledge of what came before. I think she will one day put it all together. However, it feels like she is just not there yet.
(This book was provided as a review copy by Penguin Press.)
August 17, 2026
Memoir is one of my favorite genres but this was a disappointing read. Some memoirs I’ve loved have been less about the writing itself and more about how compelling the story is. Others have drawn me in because the writing is spellbinding even if the narrative is seemingly more run-of-the-mill. Unfortunately for this book neither the story nor the writing style drew me in. It seems like a biographical timeline of a lot of things that ALMOST happened to the author.
About halfway through I realized I wouldn’t be able to describe much, if anything, about the author or her inner world to someone who asked. The book reads as if written by someone detached from its narrative, not someone who experienced it firsthand. At various points in the book the author would mention she loves Appalachia but I don’t know why she loves it. Not because it’s not lovable (Demon Copperhead made me ache!) but because she didn’t express it in a way that stuck or resonated with me. If I had to tell you what the author learned or how she grew through the story, my answers would be more about things she doesn’t believe any more, not about what she actually thinks now.
About halfway through I realized I wouldn’t be able to describe much, if anything, about the author or her inner world to someone who asked. The book reads as if written by someone detached from its narrative, not someone who experienced it firsthand. At various points in the book the author would mention she loves Appalachia but I don’t know why she loves it. Not because it’s not lovable (Demon Copperhead made me ache!) but because she didn’t express it in a way that stuck or resonated with me. If I had to tell you what the author learned or how she grew through the story, my answers would be more about things she doesn’t believe any more, not about what she actually thinks now.
June 11, 2026
All That’s Unseen is a triumphant debut told with candour, humility and vulnerability. This memoir follows Emilee’s roots in Appalachia, growing up in rural Virginia and her fall into the Pentecostal church. She adds a human lens to poverty, describing life in the coalfields across many generations. Reading the moments in her evangelical church were sometimes disturbing and difficult to read, but they are honest and informative. I was proud of her, enraged for her, scared for her and so sad that her community failed to protect her and many other women.
What I found most fascinating is that Emilee’s spiral into an intense religious doctrine was predominantly self-motivated. Her parents were concerned with her behaviour and as she drifted further into church, she drifts further from her family. I appreciated that this challenged my general assumptions and perceptions that most people engage in these spaces because they are raised that way.
I definitely would recommend this for fans of the Glass Castle and Educated; this memoir struck very similar tones, while being unique to Emilee and her story.
My primary critique is that while her exploration into politics was worthwhile, given 2016 was such a watershed moment in American politics, I felt that it didn’t go much beyond the surface. For me, it didn’t provide any new commentary if you’ve previously grappled with literature about that election!
Thank you to Penguin Press for the advanced reader copy to review! All that’s unseen is out July 28.
What I found most fascinating is that Emilee’s spiral into an intense religious doctrine was predominantly self-motivated. Her parents were concerned with her behaviour and as she drifted further into church, she drifts further from her family. I appreciated that this challenged my general assumptions and perceptions that most people engage in these spaces because they are raised that way.
I definitely would recommend this for fans of the Glass Castle and Educated; this memoir struck very similar tones, while being unique to Emilee and her story.
My primary critique is that while her exploration into politics was worthwhile, given 2016 was such a watershed moment in American politics, I felt that it didn’t go much beyond the surface. For me, it didn’t provide any new commentary if you’ve previously grappled with literature about that election!
Thank you to Penguin Press for the advanced reader copy to review! All that’s unseen is out July 28.
August 18, 2026
I feel conflicted about rating this 3 stars. The first half was gripping. But the second half felt less complete. She just glosses over some major problems she faced … and then never revisits them or how they affected her again. And while she sort of includes her family in the second half, we don’t really get to know them as much as I would have liked. And thennnn she totally avoids writing anything about her current life, and when I read about it from another review I thought it seemed pretty important to include. I’m in agreeance with several other reviews in that I think waiting a little more time to write this book would have provided some much needed clarity and perspective.
November 3, 2025
FANTASTIC memoir. Beautiful, harrowing, and thought provoking. I can’t wait for others to read this.
May 5, 2026
This felt like a non-fiction Demon Copperhead with a female protagonist.
Emilee’s memoir is beautiful and eye opening. It shows the humanity behind poverty and helped me understand why so many people in Appalachia felt drawn to Trump’s message.
Emilee’s memoir is beautiful and eye opening. It shows the humanity behind poverty and helped me understand why so many people in Appalachia felt drawn to Trump’s message.
July 31, 2026
I’m not sure if I liked this book or not. I wish politics were left out. I thought the small sections that included politics were not necessary. Also, the use of my truth or his truth ugh… there is only THE truth. I agree with others that rated the book 3 stars; it felt like something was missing and there was no closure.
August 6, 2026
This one was pretty reminiscent of Hillbilly Elegy. She has an othering gaze and doesn’t give anyone—either back home or at Harvard—much dimension. Even she comes off as flat and cartoonish. At the end, she claims to have had an epiphany about fundamentalism’s structures of thought. I am not so sure she has come through the other side.
August 26, 2026
i don’t think anything i could ever say could do this book justice. it was a combination of almost all my favorite books of all time. i can’t believe this is a memoir. i felt a few parallels with my own life, growing up in southwest virginia, attending an elite institution, living in boston. i just love every aspect of this book and i will be talking about it for a very long time.
August 11, 2026
In All That’s Unseen, Hackney’s memoir thoughtfully depicts her transformation from a devout Pentecostal high schooler from Appalachian Virginia to a secular college student at Harvard. She tackles themes from her upbringing, such as the influence of religion, politics, and economics on her evolving perspective. In a welcome reflection, Hackney is willing to look at her teenage self and analyze how her obsession with religion and boyfriend clouded her judgment, which led to blind spots that inhibited her listening to the wisdom of her parents, especially her mother.
Hackney’s memoir is strongest when she delves into themes like a child’s recognition of her family’s economics with personal anecdotes. For example, when they went to Olive Garden, she ordered minestrone because it was cheap, not because she particularly liked it. In another about religion, she describes extreme reluctance in taking a world religions class in college because of her frustrating experience as a teenager. Yet, she does take the class, and comes to realize that not all religion—or life for that matter—is black and white, and gray often exists. Further, her writing about relationships with certain individuals makes an impact, particularly her teenage boyfriend Sam and Subway coworkers Crystal and Jeremy.
Even so, Hackney’s memoir might have benefited from a less strictly chronological account and one with a more focused thematic narrative. As structured, the memoir has a biographical this-happened-and-then-this-happened feel at times, whereas a more artful and creative thread of memory approach could be more effective. Some topics felt dropped in without much depth or particular relevance such as the Virginia Tech mass shooting or COVID. As Hackney grows as a writer, I imagine her depth of craft will develop too. Indeed, there are other topics that could be explored further such as her relationship with her mother, experience with mental health, and reliance on boyfriends to bring her meaning.
Given the transformative power of higher education theme for a young woman facing challenging beginnings, this book should appeal to those that enjoyed Educated by Tara Westover. Regarding Appalachia, the book should also appeal to those that liked Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver. Importantly, however, Hackney’s book shows a more reflective look at Appalachia compared to vice president J.D. Vance’s memoir Hillbilly Elegy, whose writing demonstrated disdain towards his roots. Instead, Hackney is thoughtfully proud of her heritage without omitting the real challenges faced by Appalachia. While both authors went to Ivy League schools, Hackney ultimately emerges with a more nuanced outlook than Vance, who falls victim to stereotypes, which hinders a more balanced perspective.
Reviewed from a copy made available from NetGalley.
Hackney’s memoir is strongest when she delves into themes like a child’s recognition of her family’s economics with personal anecdotes. For example, when they went to Olive Garden, she ordered minestrone because it was cheap, not because she particularly liked it. In another about religion, she describes extreme reluctance in taking a world religions class in college because of her frustrating experience as a teenager. Yet, she does take the class, and comes to realize that not all religion—or life for that matter—is black and white, and gray often exists. Further, her writing about relationships with certain individuals makes an impact, particularly her teenage boyfriend Sam and Subway coworkers Crystal and Jeremy.
Even so, Hackney’s memoir might have benefited from a less strictly chronological account and one with a more focused thematic narrative. As structured, the memoir has a biographical this-happened-and-then-this-happened feel at times, whereas a more artful and creative thread of memory approach could be more effective. Some topics felt dropped in without much depth or particular relevance such as the Virginia Tech mass shooting or COVID. As Hackney grows as a writer, I imagine her depth of craft will develop too. Indeed, there are other topics that could be explored further such as her relationship with her mother, experience with mental health, and reliance on boyfriends to bring her meaning.
Given the transformative power of higher education theme for a young woman facing challenging beginnings, this book should appeal to those that enjoyed Educated by Tara Westover. Regarding Appalachia, the book should also appeal to those that liked Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver. Importantly, however, Hackney’s book shows a more reflective look at Appalachia compared to vice president J.D. Vance’s memoir Hillbilly Elegy, whose writing demonstrated disdain towards his roots. Instead, Hackney is thoughtfully proud of her heritage without omitting the real challenges faced by Appalachia. While both authors went to Ivy League schools, Hackney ultimately emerges with a more nuanced outlook than Vance, who falls victim to stereotypes, which hinders a more balanced perspective.
Reviewed from a copy made available from NetGalley.
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September 13, 2026as someone who has moved around quite a lot in my life, i'm always fascinated to hear about people's experiences with having a hometown whose roots are entrenched deep inside of them, and shaped this person into who they are today. this is absolutely the case in 'all that's unseen' and yet, despite the vast differences in how we grew up, there was a lot i connected with here, especially in the latter half of the book — the pull between two places, never feeling quite whole no matter where you are, and always missing the place you left behind.
i enjoyed reading about the deconstruction of former worldviews, too, and how this process happened step by step (in some ways). it's hard to write a good memoir while being defensive or dishonest or too wrecked with shame to face aspects of your past, and that made me all the more grateful for the honesty inside these pages.
i enjoyed reading about the deconstruction of former worldviews, too, and how this process happened step by step (in some ways). it's hard to write a good memoir while being defensive or dishonest or too wrecked with shame to face aspects of your past, and that made me all the more grateful for the honesty inside these pages.
September 10, 2026
Eh, I'm a bit conflicted about this one. It is really strange to realize, through the course of reading, that I'm the same age as the author. Of course a 28 year old can write a memoir, but I didn't really see why she did. Hackney's time would have been better spent writing about Appalachia more generally, I think. Even though this is a memoir, I felt like Hackney lacked all agency in her decision-making. This is definitely due to her fundamentalist upbringing and having a lack of high-achieving people to model her life around, but she doesn't even seem to realize it?
I also don't think the writing about Appalachia was all that great either. It all felt very juvenile and surface-level, and, at the end of the day, I personally know people that could have written a similar but more effective Appalachian memoir. Still interested to see what Hackney does next though.
I also don't think the writing about Appalachia was all that great either. It all felt very juvenile and surface-level, and, at the end of the day, I personally know people that could have written a similar but more effective Appalachian memoir. Still interested to see what Hackney does next though.
July 24, 2026
All That’s Unseen has everything you want in a memoir- relatability, overcoming, growth and change, and drama. I think Jeremy might be one of my favorite people I’ve never met. The way the writer described her peers and characters made me feel like I knew them, and that’s why I’m convinced Appalachian literature, as someone who knows zilch, is the most faceted one out there. I couldn’t stop turning the pages and rooting for Emilee- I loved to see her thrive and hated to see the times she ached for more, but was so glad to find this one has a pretty decently happy ending for our girl at least. Honestly, if you’re into personable memoirs that have a whole lot of verve and a lot of delicious atmosphere, All That’s Unseen should be your top pick. Thank you so much to Penguin Press for the ARC AND finished copy now!
August 1, 2026
4.5.
I love when I finish a memoir feeling like I’ve actually gotten to know the person who wrote it.
I think the second half of the book, when Hackney really begins to interrogate her own relationship with Appalachia, is where it shines. Her experiences at Harvard—particularly confronting the preconceived notions her peers and professors hold about the region—push her to look more closely at where she comes from and what it means to defend it. Her worldview expands and shifts, but she remains loyal to her roots while arguing for a more sympathetic, nuanced understanding of Appalachia.
There’s a humanity to her story throughout, and a willingness to challenge her own assumptions—especially about her faith—that feels very sincere. She neither romanticizes nor disowns the place she comes from; instead, she asks us to see it—and the people who live there—with more complexity. In many ways, that’s the story she’s telling: how leaving Appalachia gave her the distance to see it differently, and how an expanded worldview ultimately made her more—not less—committed to understanding and defending where she came from.
I love when I finish a memoir feeling like I’ve actually gotten to know the person who wrote it.
I think the second half of the book, when Hackney really begins to interrogate her own relationship with Appalachia, is where it shines. Her experiences at Harvard—particularly confronting the preconceived notions her peers and professors hold about the region—push her to look more closely at where she comes from and what it means to defend it. Her worldview expands and shifts, but she remains loyal to her roots while arguing for a more sympathetic, nuanced understanding of Appalachia.
There’s a humanity to her story throughout, and a willingness to challenge her own assumptions—especially about her faith—that feels very sincere. She neither romanticizes nor disowns the place she comes from; instead, she asks us to see it—and the people who live there—with more complexity. In many ways, that’s the story she’s telling: how leaving Appalachia gave her the distance to see it differently, and how an expanded worldview ultimately made her more—not less—committed to understanding and defending where she came from.
September 8, 2026
I enjoyed reading this well-written memoir of a spunky young lady from Southwest Virginia who made it out to attend Harvard. It moves briskly, and she's a likable narrator who has her share of warts but manages to rise up and succeed.
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August 10, 2026One of my new favorite memoirs WOW!!!!!! As an Appalachia girl this hit so deep. It really is so well done and the audiobook was amazing.
"If there's anything truly strange about the mountains it's that. You’re never quite happy in them and you're never quite happy beyond them."
"If there's anything truly strange about the mountains it's that. You’re never quite happy in them and you're never quite happy beyond them."
September 5, 2026
Meh.
I think this book would have been much better if the author had given herself another 5-10 years before writing it. As it stands, it lacks introspection and insight especially when it comes to her relationships (romantic and platonic) and her own mental health…which is understandable given that the author wrote this in her 20s and is not even a decade removed from most of the events she writes about. She is not as far from her past as she wants to believe.
The people surrounding her exist only as one-sided characters to prop up the narrative she is trying to tell about her life and history not as living, breathing individuals with their own stories and motivations. This ultimately serves to weaken her own journey, rarely is she truly able to look beyond her own perspective and start to understand another’s.
August 7, 2026
There is nothing to recommend. A 20-something reflects on her essentially normal suburban-esque upbringing for her college Senior Project. It gets published.
August 21, 2026
I wanted to like it but honestly I felt like she had no growth until the very end. I also felt like she was super ungrateful and complained the whole time about everything.
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August 30, 2026“No matter how far you go, you can never leave the mountains. Or rather, they’ll never leave you.”
Like Hackney, generations of my family have lived in a singular coal town in the mountains of southwest Virginia. In fact, in one of the very same places she describes in such detail: Grundy. Hackney recounts stories that I have been told many times before, as well as some that sound remarkably similar to those my Gran has told me. As a kid it seemed like 10% of the town shared a last name with me, one of the many reasons that I always felt like it was where I was meant to be. I thought that everyone grew up in a place like that (and I also thought everyone’s grandpa, great grandpa, etc were all coal miners like mine, lol).
Now, years later, my immediate family has moved away. For years, I’ve struggled to put into words the particular weight of my Appalachian roots, especially when I return to Grundy (and Grundy Baptist Church) to see my Gran and large extended family, which always brings up complicated feelings about leaving the church and being so far from my people and older family members. As an undergraduate, I even published some of those thoughts in one of my university’s magazines, so reading this brought up eerily similar feelings that I navigated in college and continue to frequently discuss with my dad (who also loved this book and read it in a day).
All this is to say that Hackney writes with vivid authenticity. Beyond that personal connection, she tells a story that is entirely her own and one that is well worth reading for anyone. This is a beautiful book, and Hackney does southwest Virginia, Grundy, and herself such justice in her writing.
Like Hackney, generations of my family have lived in a singular coal town in the mountains of southwest Virginia. In fact, in one of the very same places she describes in such detail: Grundy. Hackney recounts stories that I have been told many times before, as well as some that sound remarkably similar to those my Gran has told me. As a kid it seemed like 10% of the town shared a last name with me, one of the many reasons that I always felt like it was where I was meant to be. I thought that everyone grew up in a place like that (and I also thought everyone’s grandpa, great grandpa, etc were all coal miners like mine, lol).
Now, years later, my immediate family has moved away. For years, I’ve struggled to put into words the particular weight of my Appalachian roots, especially when I return to Grundy (and Grundy Baptist Church) to see my Gran and large extended family, which always brings up complicated feelings about leaving the church and being so far from my people and older family members. As an undergraduate, I even published some of those thoughts in one of my university’s magazines, so reading this brought up eerily similar feelings that I navigated in college and continue to frequently discuss with my dad (who also loved this book and read it in a day).
All this is to say that Hackney writes with vivid authenticity. Beyond that personal connection, she tells a story that is entirely her own and one that is well worth reading for anyone. This is a beautiful book, and Hackney does southwest Virginia, Grundy, and herself such justice in her writing.
September 22, 2026
I could not put this book down. Emilee is an incredibly gifted writer and storyteller. I’m so glad she shared herself with the world. To read her story is such an honor. I’ll be thinking about this book for a very long time.
Did Not Finish
July 29, 2026DNF 30% nothing wrong with this, I don’t feel like I’m learning anything and the narrative hasn’t been compelling
September 29, 2026
I’m not well suited to evaluating, or even rating, a book like this. I don’t read a lot of memoirs and those I do often leave me dissatisfied; so is my dissatisfaction with this one unique to this book or a feature of my expectations? Impossible for me to judge.
Emilee Hackney writes about the first twenty-some years of her life. Born in southern Appalachia, she writes with affection of her family and the mountains, and matter-of-factly about the culture and economic realities of the place. She also describes in detail her growing adolescent fascination with Pentecostal Evangelicanism, which made me acutely uncomfortable. I understand the religious enthusiasms of that age, but it chilled me to think of being exposed to the absolutism and sexism of that particular branch of Christianity when too young to be able to put them in perspective. It got a lot worse for her when at fourteen she attracted the attention of a nineteen-year-old young man, and began a years-long relationship with him that almost ended in their marriage.
She escaped into academics but also spun off into extreme behaviors as she lost her faith. Some portions of this part of her story were equally uncomfortable to read, especially because she kept repeating the same relationship dynamics in different settings. And therein perhaps lies my dissatisfaction—that she went on an external journey but gained relatively little insight, or perhaps gained insight but not enough to alter her choices. At the end she seemed almost as directionless and buffeted by equivocal ferlings as when she began.
Perhaps it really is a problem of my expectations—that I want a memoir to teach me something, have a story arc, reach a tidy conclusion like a work of fiction. Hackney is too honest for that, and I shouldn’t hold it against her; but it left me wondering why I was reading: Was it from a desire to learn more about an unfamiliar culture, or was it for a prurient peek into a life more lurid than my own? Perhaps I wanted her to tell me more clearly what I was to get out of her narrative.
Emilee Hackney writes about the first twenty-some years of her life. Born in southern Appalachia, she writes with affection of her family and the mountains, and matter-of-factly about the culture and economic realities of the place. She also describes in detail her growing adolescent fascination with Pentecostal Evangelicanism, which made me acutely uncomfortable. I understand the religious enthusiasms of that age, but it chilled me to think of being exposed to the absolutism and sexism of that particular branch of Christianity when too young to be able to put them in perspective. It got a lot worse for her when at fourteen she attracted the attention of a nineteen-year-old young man, and began a years-long relationship with him that almost ended in their marriage.
She escaped into academics but also spun off into extreme behaviors as she lost her faith. Some portions of this part of her story were equally uncomfortable to read, especially because she kept repeating the same relationship dynamics in different settings. And therein perhaps lies my dissatisfaction—that she went on an external journey but gained relatively little insight, or perhaps gained insight but not enough to alter her choices. At the end she seemed almost as directionless and buffeted by equivocal ferlings as when she began.
Perhaps it really is a problem of my expectations—that I want a memoir to teach me something, have a story arc, reach a tidy conclusion like a work of fiction. Hackney is too honest for that, and I shouldn’t hold it against her; but it left me wondering why I was reading: Was it from a desire to learn more about an unfamiliar culture, or was it for a prurient peek into a life more lurid than my own? Perhaps I wanted her to tell me more clearly what I was to get out of her narrative.
August 18, 2026
Coming back to this one a month later to bump it up to five stars because I still think about it!
This is a powerful memoir that is part coming-of-age story, part finding-yourself story, with some religious deconstruction thrown in for good measure. Born and raised in the deep hollers of the Appalachian Mountains, Emilee Hackney grew up very familiar with the mountains and coalfields of southwestern Virginia. She saw firsthand how the coal mining industry used up not only the land but the bodies and spirits of the people who toiled for its benefit. Although her grandparents were part of the traditional Appalachian working class, her parents were both college-educated. Hackney was deeply influenced not only by the rich storytelling and deep faith of her grandparents but also by the emphasis her parents placed on education and reading diversely. Church was a part of her upbringing, but the intensity of the religious fervor seemed to depend on who was making those decisions for her. When she was only 14 years old, Emilee started dating a high school senior named Sam. When they started attending services at Deliverance Christian Church, Emilee was immediately thrown into the world of Pentecostalism. Swept up in her new faith and eager to conform, Emilee agrees to marry Sam right after high school. Before the wedding can take place, Sam is involved in a shocking scandal that rocks the very foundation of Emilee's faith.
Years later, Emilee has isolated herself in shame and self-doubt. She works thankless, low-paying jobs and mostly gives up on friends and family. On the precipice of giving up completely, Emilee takes the radical step of deciding to apply to Harvard University. She had only taken some meager community college courses, and her advisor essentially tells her that she has zero hope of being considered. Against all odds, Hackney is accepted, and thus begins a new stage of her evolution. It seems at first like it will be a total reinvention, but she soon realizes that not everything about her past needs to be discarded.
I devoured this book. It is one of those memoirs that reads like a narrative. If you can do it on audio, all the better. The author narrates, and her THICK Appalachian accent adds so much to the story. It even becomes a plot point when she leaves Virginia and heads to the halls of academia, where judgment can happen just as quickly as it did within the church. I also loved that, even while fighting for her liberation from the old things that held her down, the author is able to acknowledge that her rebirth was more about keeping the pieces of her past that served her well rather than burning it all to the ground.
If you enjoyed Educated by Tara Westover, like coming-of-age stories, religious deconstruction, or are intrigued by books set in Appalachia, this is going to be a new favorite. 5 stars
This is a powerful memoir that is part coming-of-age story, part finding-yourself story, with some religious deconstruction thrown in for good measure. Born and raised in the deep hollers of the Appalachian Mountains, Emilee Hackney grew up very familiar with the mountains and coalfields of southwestern Virginia. She saw firsthand how the coal mining industry used up not only the land but the bodies and spirits of the people who toiled for its benefit. Although her grandparents were part of the traditional Appalachian working class, her parents were both college-educated. Hackney was deeply influenced not only by the rich storytelling and deep faith of her grandparents but also by the emphasis her parents placed on education and reading diversely. Church was a part of her upbringing, but the intensity of the religious fervor seemed to depend on who was making those decisions for her. When she was only 14 years old, Emilee started dating a high school senior named Sam. When they started attending services at Deliverance Christian Church, Emilee was immediately thrown into the world of Pentecostalism. Swept up in her new faith and eager to conform, Emilee agrees to marry Sam right after high school. Before the wedding can take place, Sam is involved in a shocking scandal that rocks the very foundation of Emilee's faith.
Years later, Emilee has isolated herself in shame and self-doubt. She works thankless, low-paying jobs and mostly gives up on friends and family. On the precipice of giving up completely, Emilee takes the radical step of deciding to apply to Harvard University. She had only taken some meager community college courses, and her advisor essentially tells her that she has zero hope of being considered. Against all odds, Hackney is accepted, and thus begins a new stage of her evolution. It seems at first like it will be a total reinvention, but she soon realizes that not everything about her past needs to be discarded.
I devoured this book. It is one of those memoirs that reads like a narrative. If you can do it on audio, all the better. The author narrates, and her THICK Appalachian accent adds so much to the story. It even becomes a plot point when she leaves Virginia and heads to the halls of academia, where judgment can happen just as quickly as it did within the church. I also loved that, even while fighting for her liberation from the old things that held her down, the author is able to acknowledge that her rebirth was more about keeping the pieces of her past that served her well rather than burning it all to the ground.
If you enjoyed Educated by Tara Westover, like coming-of-age stories, religious deconstruction, or are intrigued by books set in Appalachia, this is going to be a new favorite. 5 stars
July 30, 2026
Once I picked this up I couldn’t put it down. I know it’s being compared to Educated, which is going to get old, but it is just as readable as Educated. The writing is superb.
August 26, 2026
An interesting perspective on a childhood in Appalachia- and her ultimate and unexpected attendance at Harvard. A well written and introspective memoir that made me think- but ultimately I found her somewhat unlikable. I kept wondering, where were her seemingly educated and middle-class parents in all this? She seemed to downplay any influence her parents may have had. The hold that her evangelical church had on her was shocking- as well as the lack of support for her decisions to leave her fiancé.
Her story is not yet finished - she wrote a recent Modern Love column that I enjoyed and that led me to this book. However, the book ends prior to that story. There will be more from this writer and I will definitely read it!
Her story is not yet finished - she wrote a recent Modern Love column that I enjoyed and that led me to this book. However, the book ends prior to that story. There will be more from this writer and I will definitely read it!
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August 26, 2026Really loved & felt connected to this memoir 🤍🤍 appalachia forever
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