Issue 18 - Editor's Note
What I always ask myself when reading for final choices, when selecting those pieces my team may have already looked at and cast their votes as either “yea” or “nay,” is this: will I find time in my busy schedule in the days ahead to read this for enjoyment rather than for selection? Do I *want* to read this again? Can I read the first few lines and say, “Oh, yes, it’s that one! I like that one!” Or does it weary me, for whatever reason, to think about reading a piece more than once? Maybe that’s why I lean toward the good prose poem and the captivating lyric essay – they read easily, or they surprise me with their language, their turns of phrase, their significant mystery, rather than simply telling me a story or promoting an agenda or trying to stay "relative" or "current"; they beg me to read them again. They never get old even as times change. And of course there is subjectivity there, but most times it’s pretty cut and dry in my eyes, in my mind.
The wording, for me, can be “too heavy,” too tight – and isn’t that a fine line. Most are “too loose” or like a paragraph from a diary, and that’s no good. The “too tight” reads stumbling and tripping over itself with a perceived view to impress, while the “too loose” simply drones on and on. I suppose this is why I always suggest a submitter read what we’ve already published in their chosen genre before they send in their hard-won work; it may not be a great fit; it may not catch my eye, my sensibilities, my taste, but at least it has a better chance.
Issue 18’s theme of heaven(s)/ sky is one I especially love, as mortality, I feel, is a ubiquitous concept, an idea often entering the human mind especially as we age.
I could address each selection individually, but I won’t. I think as the pieces are read, it will be easily understood why they were selected.
This is a beautiful collection, including the incredible cover art.
Stay well,
~Chila
What I always ask myself when reading for final choices, when selecting those pieces my team may have already looked at and cast their votes as either “yea” or “nay,” is this: will I find time in my busy schedule in the days ahead to read this for enjoyment rather than for selection? Do I *want* to read this again? Can I read the first few lines and say, “Oh, yes, it’s that one! I like that one!” Or does it weary me, for whatever reason, to think about reading a piece more than once? Maybe that’s why I lean toward the good prose poem and the captivating lyric essay – they read easily, or they surprise me with their language, their turns of phrase, their significant mystery, rather than simply telling me a story or promoting an agenda or trying to stay "relative" or "current"; they beg me to read them again. They never get old even as times change. And of course there is subjectivity there, but most times it’s pretty cut and dry in my eyes, in my mind.
The wording, for me, can be “too heavy,” too tight – and isn’t that a fine line. Most are “too loose” or like a paragraph from a diary, and that’s no good. The “too tight” reads stumbling and tripping over itself with a perceived view to impress, while the “too loose” simply drones on and on. I suppose this is why I always suggest a submitter read what we’ve already published in their chosen genre before they send in their hard-won work; it may not be a great fit; it may not catch my eye, my sensibilities, my taste, but at least it has a better chance.
Issue 18’s theme of heaven(s)/ sky is one I especially love, as mortality, I feel, is a ubiquitous concept, an idea often entering the human mind especially as we age.
I could address each selection individually, but I won’t. I think as the pieces are read, it will be easily understood why they were selected.
This is a beautiful collection, including the incredible cover art.
Stay well,
~Chila
