Everything is turning and burning in October. Leaves turn. Leaves burn. Pages turn. Pages burn. Light takes on a new fire.
Sunsets are bloody red, the sunrise, a flagrant pumpkin and yes, the masks are visible for one day, even if we, as writers, are working to uncover them with the pen.
Monday
Apr
29
A Note From Meg Tuite - Fiction Editor: October 2012
Everything is turning and burning in October. Leaves turn. Leaves burn. Pages turn. Pages burn. Light takes on a new fire.
Sunsets are bloody red, the sunrise, a flagrant pumpkin and yes, the masks are visible for one day, even if we, as writers, are working to uncover them with the pen.
This mid-October issue strips off the layers with bloody brilliance and yet, the ghosts of these tales continue to haunt.
Janée J. Baugher is our featured fiction writer this issue. DAMN! She has created a labyrinth of doors and inner struggle within her three sublime stories, “Driving, Mid Break-up,” “Letter Abroad,” and “Waiting Room.” Deep, deep waters. And her interview answers are superb. Discover more about Baugher’s process and the webs she weaves in her work. Thank you, Janee, for sharing some of your light with us.
Jack Hill reveals the hidden workings of his characters in “Diabetes People,” “God Without Thinking,” and “Tally Marks.” All three, mesmerizing and exceptional.
Timothy Reed blasts us with his language rapture down these dark corridors of known through unknown realities in “After the Storm,” “The Earth Was a Living Thing,” and “We’re All Always Digging.” Killer!
Gessy Alvarez penetrates and unearths the awe and terror of negotiating relationships in “Over the Trilling of the Crickets,” “Guardian Angel,” “Drink Up,” and “The Good Cancer.” Lit and memorable.
Travis Cebula delivers the biggest nightmare for a child in his story “Arlington Road” and that strange gap between dream and waking states of another child in “rolling a sea urchin down the sloping glass.” Masterful movement from the solid to the liquid.
Joel Kopplin captures, creeps and claustrophobes his way into our being in “re the dark, now fully dark,” “sometimes I worry I am the last one,” and “the fridge.” His language is hypnotic, haunting. I was reminded of the documentary “Crumb,” when the film crew allowed us to enter a world that no others ever had.
What an amazing array of talent in this issue! I hope you enjoy!