We are days away from the release of our new spring issue (9 days to be exact), and we are pumped! This new issue is going to be bigger than ever, with more pages, more stories, more artwork, and more fancy new bindings.
With submissions from 12 states and 3 different countries, we selected a powerhouse of poetry, fiction, nonfiction, photography, and artwork, including 5 artists and writers from the Seattle area. How could we not be excited? In fact, we are so excited that we just can’t keep it all a secret. We have to give you some hints. We have to give you a sneak preview of the new issue, so you’ll be as excited as we are!
From “My Father Grew Roses,” by Holly St. Jean:
I thought about how cute one ladybug was. Super cute. Okay. But how many filled this chilly bag resting on my lap? It undulated as if a miniature ocean squall was taking place inside. With each wave, I imagined thousands of shelled bodies waking up, and climbing atop one another within the darkened confines of this (hopefully) impenetrable fabric. The material scratched and scraped against my bare legs where my fringed cut-offs ended. The entire idea began to frighten me, but
, I held on. For Dad, I would
From “mother,” by Meng Yu:
i am the bowl that breaks the potter’s hands
my name no longer claims me.
i am the trickle condensation of love’s overflow
and the desolate loss of its evaporation.
i swallow oceans in my depths.
my body is not the forms that fit
not the arts and crafts of desire.
no incisions will posses my open heart.
From “Scraps,” by Mel King:
She climbed in the backseat next to me. Looking down, she saw my black high top Converse with yellow flames on the side.
“What does that say?”
I blushed and looked down. The product of many boring classes, I had covered all of the white rubber in pen and Sharpie. My favorite quotes in my own handwriting. A big ‘L’ and ‘R’ on the left and right toes, because I thought it would help me to put them on without thinking about it.
She pointed to the inner rubber sidewall. “There.”
I crossed my left foot over my right knee to see it better in the dark backseat of the car and blushed redder. ‘CAN YOU JUST BE KISSING ME NOW?’ it read. The headlights of a passing car streamed in through the window and she saw it, too. “It’s from Buffy,” I started to explain.
“Willow and Tara,” she added. I was dumbstruck.
It was a line from the pivotal scene where Willow and Tara reunite after a protracted, multiple episode long break-up. I had watched that scene so many times that the VHS my dad had used to tape the episode was warped.
Without missing a beat, she grinned and started, “‘Things fall apart. They fall apart so hard. ’” I wasn’t sure if I should continue, but the words came falling out of my mouth before I could stop them.
We can’t show you anymore. We want to (trust us), but we can’t. At least, not until April 18th, when the new issue is officially released. We’re so excited about this issue that we’re throwing a reading/dance party to celebrate! (If you can’t tell by now, we love dance parties, almost as much as we love writing.)
Join us at Vermillion on the 18th, at 7:00pm, to hear selections read aloud, mingle with the awesome T(OUR) staff, and dance the night away with DJ Res! The only downside is that it will have to end at some point. But before that happens, check out all the details here, and we’ll see you on the 18th!