we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you we are saying thank you and waving dark though it is —“Thanks,” W.S. Merwin |
Whenever I sit down to reread this issue, I think, could this group of twenty writers have anticipated the world in which their work would be read? A global pandemic, 565,000 (and counting) lost in the U.S. alone; the killings of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and too many Black Americans; the protests for racial justice; an insurrection; violence against women, violence against Asian Americans, violence against LGTBQ people; the ongoing climate emergency—While none of these pieces single out these events, they certainly anticipate an already troubled world on the way to more trouble. It’s no wonder that two of the stories here use the metaphor of the exit. The exits in question aren’t gestures of defeat, or running away; instead, they want to think about how to live, not just as individuals, but with one another—key effort at a time in which the violence of our old structures has been laid bare, exposed. The narratives here are small acts of hope, though they might not always look like it. They believe in justice, transport: the possibility of. Each, in its own way, wants to keep the catastrophe at bay for a little while longer.
We hope you’re animated and refreshed by issue 53. We hope, too, that the online format makes the work more accessible than it has been in the past—a print edition containing this same work is forthcoming this fall. The better part of this issue came together during a time of extremity, and it’s essential to thank the people who were generous with their care and integrity when multiple concerns were pulling at their attention. To Garth Greenwell and T Kira Madden, for their impeccable work as judges of our fiction and nonfiction Contests. To the students in the MFA program at Rutgers University-Camden, for reading through hundreds of submissions, over the course of many months, including holidays and breaks. To Kevin Klinskidorn for the vibrant banner image. And, finally, to Stephanie Manuzak, our managing editor and friend, whose stewardship of this magazine, in ways large, small, and in-between, continues to be crucial to its ongoing life.
Take care,
Paul Lisicky
April 2021
We hope you’re animated and refreshed by issue 53. We hope, too, that the online format makes the work more accessible than it has been in the past—a print edition containing this same work is forthcoming this fall. The better part of this issue came together during a time of extremity, and it’s essential to thank the people who were generous with their care and integrity when multiple concerns were pulling at their attention. To Garth Greenwell and T Kira Madden, for their impeccable work as judges of our fiction and nonfiction Contests. To the students in the MFA program at Rutgers University-Camden, for reading through hundreds of submissions, over the course of many months, including holidays and breaks. To Kevin Klinskidorn for the vibrant banner image. And, finally, to Stephanie Manuzak, our managing editor and friend, whose stewardship of this magazine, in ways large, small, and in-between, continues to be crucial to its ongoing life.
Take care,
Paul Lisicky
April 2021