This month I have collected for you four short pieces, each exemplifying Hemingway’s notion of the “iceberg” theory of writing— what you see is the ten percent that’s above water, and what you intuit and feel is the massive ninety percent that lies beneath your sight.
In my preface this month, I’ll be saying a little about the ten percent the authors allow you to see above the waterline, and I’ll allow you to discover the massive subtexts on your own—perhaps with just a tad of foreshadowing.
June Nandy’s “Minutes Making Time” is a collection of childhood memories, greater than the sum of their aggregation. It is not merely a list, not merely discursive, and you will have to reflect on its actual meaning(s).
D.E. Goodroad’s “February, Winter” is about the weather in Ohio, but it is also about the realities that lead a person to live in such weather—the actual weather the story is about is personal and interpersonal.
Eric Barr’s “Where Is My Light?” is ostensibly about a flashlight, but it’s also about health issues in a family, and like any family story, it’s about a lot more than what you’re being shown on the surface.
In “My Name,” Vinnie Galizio—full name Vincenzo Antonio Galizio—takes us on a heartfelt and amusing journey regarding what it means to be named Vincenzo Antonio Galizio. And what he has to tell us is at once deeper and more general than what it means to be Italian-American.
Whatever form you choose to write in—maximalist, minimalist, or anything in between—I am interested in reading you work. I invite you to submit nonfiction on a topic of your choice. I’m looking for creative nonfiction, narrative nonfiction, memoirs, and personal essays—with the understanding that these categories often overlap—up to 10,000 words. Please submit work directly to me at firstname.lastname@example.org. I look forward to enjoying your work!