I’m having a hard time finding the right words here. Anyway:
I’m overwhelmed by the generosity of writers who let me share a piece of their written world and the people inside, places where I’ve never been, voices in the distance, faces up close, scenes re-played, filth, shine and transformation, breaking and healing.
I am humbled by the way most writers are self-conscious about the work they are sending out, and glad to find a few who are adamantly convinced, certain and confident in the unquestionable value of their work, it makes me happy, they might even escape the worst, most paralyzing moments of self-criticism (or, perhaps they’ve already been through the motions, deciding to keep going, no matter what).
From the ‘Here’s a very simple story I put together, on the go’ to ‘These are two of my kids, I am placing them for adoption’ and in the simple, careful introduction of the work, there’s a lot of humility.
The moment when you hit ‘send’, did you just send a piece of yourself into a vacuum, free-falling?
Will the words be read, interpreted, scrutinized, chewed, rejected, loved? Ignored?
I’m also very happy that I receive submissions from all corners of the world, and from writers of very different backgrounds. I’ve found interesting writing shared by a high school student, as well as a senior writer with a career spanning 50 years. Some writing is transferred through the distance and landscape of using English as a second, or even third, language.
Here’s a preview of some of the work in issue 3, coming up this Monday (30th) the cover and illustration choices made possible thanks to the generosity of the artist:
detail from ‘Dusk trap’ by Miko Maciaszek (© all rights reserved)
detail from Ghosts- series by Miko Maciaszek (© all rights reserved) text not part of the original work, this is part of the coming contributors page.
The cover page (secret!) is a beautiful, luminous illustration, another exquisite work by Miko Maciaszek.
Some of the included writing:
18 very different poems, by 10 poets
‘I kill easy. Memory does it. I was born for this, to wear these rags. ‘
Balloons. (yes, balloons, but not like you’d imagine.)
Patricide, or contemplating it.
‘The Author saved me that year’, a blog post well worth re-reading (the original title including a name).
This post is as much a warm thank-you note to the writers and artists who made issue 2 a great read, as a nod to all writers who are contributing to issue 3, and an extended thanks to the contributors of the initial issue.