(Pictured above: three associate editors–author Carly Sutherland at left, Shawna Clark, and Kalee Brunelle–prepping for the issue launch event on April 18, 2013.)

Once we got the results of the contest winners for the Spring 2013 issue of Dogwood, we were excited. Elated. Proud. The pieces were well chosen, and well representative of what Dogwood aims to embody. Our judges, chose the grand prize winner along with a fiction piece and a poem. As an associate editor and journalism student, I couldn’t help but wonder what the judges think when they select a winner. After all, we are proud of each and every piece in the new issue. So we thought it was fitting to conduct a brief interview with each of our three well-schooled, literary genius judges to see what they’re up to, and thought even more fitting to share our findings with all of our Dogwood followers.

First up, Roxane Gay: co-editor of PANK, essay editor of The Rumpus, English professor at Eastern Illinois University.

So you’re a professor, an editor, a blogger, a published writer. How do you find time for each to be successful? 

I find the time because I make the time. I also live in the middle of nowhere and suffer from insomnia, so that helps.

Do you have a process when reading to select prize winners? Did this process work for judging Dogwood?  

I don’t have a set process for reading when I’m judging a contest. I simply look for writing that makes me feel and/or think and that leaves me a little or a lot breathless.

Do you have a favorite genre to edit or judge? 

I love to judge fiction and creative nonfiction because those are the genres with which I am most familiar.

Thoughts on poetry? Is there a different criteria you use? 

Poetry is harder for me to judge because I’m not sure I understand, intellectually, what makes a good poem. That said, I try to read poetry with the same desire–to be made to think or feel.

What projects are you currently working on? Do you have any coming up in the near future? 

I’m currently working on revising two books that will be out in 2014, a novel called An Untamed State and an essay collection called Bad Feminist. I’m also working on essays and a short story or two and two new novel projects. I love working on lots of things at once. –Roxane Gay. 

Well there you have it ladies and gentleman: it turns out that successful, ultimate multi-tasking is in fact possible! Now if only I didn’t love sleep…

Next up, we have Adriana Paramo (Ah-dreea-nah Pah’-ramo, as her website informs us): the Bogota born, Medellin raised, Petroleum Engineer student turned award-winning author.

Is there any easy way to sum up all of your recent travels?

Let’s define recent as “in the last six months.” Ready? Set. Go.  Turkmenistan, Turkey, Russia, Mongolia, Colombia, USA, England, Qatar and Nepal.

What projects are you currently working on? What do you have coming up in the future?

I have a second book coming out this fall. “My Mother’s Funeral” is a nonfiction book set in Colombia; it focuses on what defines being a modern Colombian woman. It is a combination of ethnography, memoir, folklore, cuisine and some lyrical speed bumps here and there.

Right now I am working on a manuscript inspired on my doctoral dissertation which includes the anthropological fieldwork I did among Indian women working and living in Kuwait. For years its working title has been Desert Butterflies, but I’m leaning towards Between Wealth and Squalor, or something like that.

Did you have a criteria or specific process that you used when judging pieces for Dogwood?

Judging a contest is like having a blind date. You are filled with anticipation, you wonder: will my date show me a good time? Will I want to see him/her again? Will I cry, laugh, reflect? Etc. The point is, you want the piece to move you. You want the piece to talk to you, to persuade you to read it again and again. You expect your date to be memorable, to make your evening special, to connect and resonate with you. When a story does that to me, I melt into my chair.

As a non-fiction writer, what in winner Sarah Hollenbeck’s “Goldmine” worked for you?

“Goldmine” is honest, gutsy, and devoid of self-pity. It transmits, quite effectively, an arduous and private journey using unpretentious language, heavy with nothing but humanity. The simplicity and straightforwardness of the narrative are what make “Goldmine” a subversive piece. It subverts the stereotypical notion of disability, the notion that things are the way they appear, and that a person with a disability is alone in a landlocked world. The strength of Sarah’s story lies in its capacity to arouse empathy, to establish a connection with the reader and let it translate into action beyond the text. - Adriana Paramo

Adriana’s responses left me speechless and awe-struck. 9 countries in 6 months? I don’t even have high hopes of visiting nine countries in my entire life! Not to mention, the hilarious analogy that judging a contest is like a blind date. Not that I’ve been on a blind date, but next time I read something, I’m going to judge it based on this criteria. Just for fun.

And last but most certainly not least (ignoring that this statement is wildly cliche), we have Adrian Matejka, the swoon-worthy German-born, California and Indiana raised poet, whose work has won him numerous noteworthy awards.

So you primarily write poetry, is that correct? Do your Creative Writing classes reflect this? 

You got it. Poetry is the best way I’ve found to express what’s on my mind. I love the rhythms in poetry and the breadth of possibility the art form offers. I hear things in line breaks and have never been much of a writer of prose. I do read fiction and nonfiction all of the time, though, and I’ve been working on some essays. Those bad boys are struggling for air right now. Which is all to say I teach whatever works best in the moment—nonfiction, graphic novels, albums, whatever. We’re wrapping up the spring semester in my workshops with three poetry collections: Gabrielle Calvocoressi’s Apocalyptic Swing, Oliver de la Paz’s Names Above Houses, and Sean Singer’s Discography.

Do you have a process or criteria you use when judging pieces?  Did this work when judging Dogwood? 

I’ve been lucky enough to work as an editor for most of my writing career—first for Crab Orchard Review, then for Callaloo and Sou’wester. I try to apply the same criteria to judging as I do to selecting work for a magazine. I look for a poem that is so necessary, it makes me want to show it someone else. Once I’ve been engaged by the work in that way, I get down to the business of questioning the poem’s intent and craft. It was a pleasure reading the work submitted for Dogwood this year. So many of the poems felt necessary.

What was it about Geffrey Davis’s winning poem, “What We Set in”, that worked for you? 

I keep using the word “necessary” but it’s appropriate for Mr. Davis’s piece. It’s a very sophisticated poem, one that finds a balance of vulnerability and masculinity in a way few poems are able to. Just as importantly, the poem tackles childbirth from the perspective of the father and that’s very rare. The poem is the right combination of empathy and helplessness. And boxing. I love that.

Do you have a favorite genre to judge? 

Honestly, I don’t feel very comfortable in the position as judge, regardless of the genre. Some of it is the action of “judging,” but mainly it’s because there is so much amazing work out there. I wish I could pick it all. Poets need writing space and a capacious imaginary, but they also need coffee, pens, and bread. Being selected for a prize can be very beneficial to the circumstances of a poet’s work.

What projects are you currently working on? Do you have any coming up in the near future?  

Yusef Komunyakka is one of my poetic models and he always works on multiple projects. In my quest to be like him, I’m working on a couple of things right now. I just finished a book called The Big Smoke about the boxer Jack Johnson. It will be published at the end of May 2013. While I was finishing that, I started a project that’s simultaneously about astronomy, growing up in HUD housing, and artistic mashups. I’m sure where it’s going yet. It might be poems. It might be something longer. We’ll see. -Adrian Matejka

A few minutes after receiving Adrian’s response, he followed up with this:

“I just realized I left out a link to Callaloo. You’ll probably want to add the link below to the interview for consistency.”

So I did… Don’t you love someone who is thorough and aware and consistent? I sure do. And I loved the sense of voice I got from Adrian, even over e-mail.

Well there you have it, fellow Dogwood enthusiasts. Three amazing people, writers, poets, editors, professors, what have you, that we were fortunate enough to have judge our also amazing contest entrants. I thank them for their time to get back to me, and for having such wonderful answers.

Cover artist Gordon Skinner shared his process in creating the journal’s cover art, entitled “Jesus Piece.”  The artist also took audience questions about his aesthetic and creative techniques.

Claire Zoghb, winner of the Poetry Prize in the 2008 issue of Dogwood read her prize winning poem “Apples,” as well as several of her more recent pieces.

Gabby Gabby, editor of the Illuminati Girl Gang, read several of her original poems.

Finally, five undergraduate student writers, Kaylee Brunelle, Pedro Ramirez, Nicole Heller, Zoe Capobianco and Chris Schelzi read original pieces of poetry, fiction and nonfiction.

Poetry:

Sandra Beasley, 2005. “The Gemini Jings”

Bruce Bennett, 2005. “How I love You”

John Estes, 2005. “Annunciation”

Eugene Gloria, 2005. “Diane Arbus Prowls our Street”

Michael Hettich, 2008. “The Equation”

Jody Rambo, 2008. “Writings to the Unborn”

Claire Zoghb, 2008. “Apples”

Fiction:

Marilyn Annucci, 2005. “Cosmography”

James Reed, 2008. “Priceless Good Will”

Dogwood is an annual journal of poetry and prose sponsored by the College of Arts and Sciences and the English Department at Fairfield University. From August 1st-October 15th each year, the Dogwood staff collects works from both new and acclaimed writers across the country, and publishes a new issue every May. Dogwood is named for the area of Fairfield, CT, which is covered in flowering dogwood trees each spring.

From experimental poetry that examines the intricacies of human interaction, to essays that capture the beauty in seemingly mundane experiences of every day life, the 12^th issue of Dogwood is rich with thought-provoking, original writing that is honest and profound. While the 2013 contest winners received their due praise, all the submissions in the current issue of Dogwood are impactful, stimulating, and bold.

2013 Dogwood Award Winners

We are so pleased to announce our $1000 prize winner for this issue:

Grand Prize and First Prize, Nonfiction: “A Goldmine” by Sarah Hollenbeck

Adriana Páramo writes: “‘A Goldmine’ is a powerful work of nonfiction. It does what good writing is supposed to do: it moves the reader, invites her to think, and challenges her world in a new way. ‘A Goldmine’ explores the notions of disability with depth and breadth through a calculated combination of honesty, vulnerability, straight forward language and raw subjectivity, all wrapped up in the gauzy fabric of the redeemable force of love. Let’s make some room for Sarah, a woman who writes about disability, not because she is disabled but because she is a writer.”

Sarah Hollenbeck is the former nonfiction editor of TriQuarterly and a recent graduate of Northwestern University’s MFA program. Her essays have been published in the CAF Review and In Our Words. She has also been selected to represent Northwestern in the 2013 Intro Journals Project hosted by AWP.

First Prize, Fiction: “Shark” by Lizzie Reinhard

Roxane Gay writes of “Shark”: “It’s smart and witty, and there is an intimacy to the ending I really admire.”

Lizzie Reinhard received her MFA from Columbia University. A native New Yorker, she currently lives in Battery Park with her dog, Ms. Lulu Pufnstuf. She is working on her first novel.

First Prize, Poetry: “What We Set In Motion” by Geffrey Davis

Adrian Matejka writes: “‘What We Set in Motion’ is an ambitious and rangy poem that manages to be both muscular and delicate thanks to its elegantly forthright narrative about childbirth. The approach to image and rhythm in the poem is reminiscent of James Wright. Like the best of Wright’s work, this poem’s uncompromising honesty and musical integrity combine to create imagery that constantly surprises. This poem is a bold poem, one that invites multiple readings and continues to gratify.”

Geffrey Davis holds an MFA from Penn State University, where he is also writing a doctoral dissertation on 20th- and 21st-century American poetics and teaches creative writing, composition, and literature courses.  His debut collection of poems, Revising the Storm, has been awarded the A. Poulin Jr. Poetry Prize and will be published by BOA Editions in April 2014. He is a Cave Canem Fellow and recipient of the Wabash Prize for Poetry and the Leonard Steinberg Memorial/Academy of American Poets Prize. He is also Co-Founder and Co-Editor of the online journal Toe Good Poetry. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in basalt, Crazyhorse, Mid-American Review, Sycamore Review, Wisconsin Review, and other journals.  He considers the Puget Sound area “home”—though though he’s been raised by much more of the Pacific Northwest, and now by central Pennsylvania as well.

Dogwood 2013 Judges

We were thrilled to have three judges whose writing pushes boundaries in their respective genres, and we’re grateful for the time they took to judge the contest. We appreciate all the effort of those who crafted submissions and submitted to the contest.

Fiction judge Roxane Gay’s work has appeared in Best American Short Stories 2012, NOON, American Short Fiction, West Branch, Oxford American, The Rumpus, and many others. She is a columnist for Salon, edits various publications, teaches, and lives in the Midwest.

Nonfiction judge Adriana Páramo is a cultural anthropologist and author of My Mother’s Funeral and Looking for Esperanza, winner of the 2011 Social Justice and Equality Award. Her work has appeared in Alaska Quarterly Review, Consequence Magazine, So to Speak, Carolina Quarterly Review, The Los Angeles Review, and others. She has worked for Voice of Witness, a book series focusing on contemporary social injustice.

Poetry judge Adrian Matejka is the author of The Devil’s Garden (Alice James Books, 2003), Mixology (Penguin, 2009), which was a winner of the 2008 National Poetry Series, and The Big Smoke (Penguin, forthcoming in 2013). He is the recipient of two Illinois Arts Council Literary Awards and fellowships from Cave Canem and the Lannan Foundation. His work has appeared in American Poetry Review, The Best American Poetry, Ploughshares, and Poetry among other journals and anthologies. He teaches creative writing at Indiana University.

After a one-year hiatus from 2010-2011, Dogwood resumed publication and its annual contest with new editor Sonya Huber. In addition to being the editor of Dogwood, Sonya is an Assistant Professor at Fairfield University, where she teaches creative nonfiction, publishing, editing, and composition. To contact Sonya, e-mail shuber@fairfield.edu, and for general Dogwood inquiries, e-mail dogwoodliterarary@gmail.com

As a senior undergraduate student, I’ve been spending a portion of this semester filling out applications to law schools. I’ve suddenly found myself thrown back into high school, when I had to write college application essays that would tell an admissions committee what they should know about me that they wouldn’t from reading the rest of my application.

This is an incredibly daunting task. How do you limit defining yourself to a single two-page essay? How do you express in a few hundred words the lifetime of moments that make you the person that you are? No matter how well articulated I might manage to be, what I type in that essay will never accurately capture all of me.

Admissions committees aren’t expecting that they are going to get to know the entirety of who I am through an essay. I know they’ll be looking to see my aspirations, or maybe a little bit of about my background, or perhaps a major personal challenge I’ve faced that shows my strengths and perseverant spirit, but they will also be focusing primarily on my ability to express myself. Still, it’s difficult for me not to feel that what the reader takes from my essay is going to be more of a judgment of me as a person than it will be as me as a writer or potential law student.

Here at Dogwood, we have recently started one of our favorite duties as editors: reading through submissions. We are so excited to have so many great pieces to consider this year, and as we’ve been reading each piece, we realize how difficult it is to select which ones to publish.

Let’s be honest. Rejections suck. There’s nothing comforting about the name “rejection letter.” Whether it’s for a literary submission or for a law school application, it hurts to have your work be rejected. Rejection. It’s such a harsh word, isn’t it? It’s like the name itself is saying we’re supposed to feel terrible, seeking pity from a pint of Half-Baked (or maybe a drink of choice if you’re more of a Hemingway type). A scene worse than a bad rom-com breakup.

As writers, we take pride in our work, taking hours, days, years to craft our words so carefully that they express our thoughts clearly and meaningfully. Whether we write a nonfiction essay or a science-fiction novel, there is always an intimate, vulnerable piece of us that is intrinsically tied to our work simply because we’ve authored it, we’ve dedicated ourselves to it. And I think that this is part of the reason it can be so difficult to receive a rejection letter. It doesn’t feel so much like a rejection of an essay as it does a rejection of you.

There is so much more to an author than one of his or her stories, and at Dogwood, we are incredibly sensitive to that. It may sound cliché to say that it’s difficult to read through submissions and make decisions, but it’s true. As editors we have endless discussions about how to critique a piece of writing, what makes one piece “better” than another, defining what we are looking for in potential pieces. It’s not always an easy task. We truly want to encourage all the authors who submit to us to keep writing, keep developing your stories, and to keep submitting, whether it’s to us or to other publications.

I’d really like to thank and congratulate all of you for sharing with us something so intimate. Thank you for submitting your writing. We are honored to be able to share in reading your work, and especially to be able to consider it for Dogwood. And if you do receive a “Sorry, not this time, try again, keep writing, we love you” letter from us… well, we actually mean it. We’re sorry we couldn’t publish you this time, but try again, keep writing, and we love you! Good luck!

On Nov. 14, Danielle and I took the train up to New Haven, Conn., to visit Yale University’s Afro-American Cultural Center. We heard that local artist Gordon Skinner, 35, would be there to conclude his “Hard Works” exhibition with a brief talk and Q & A session.

In the very beginning of this semester, Sonya announced that she found the perfect art piece for Dogwood‘s cover. She pulled up something from her email and revealed to Danielle, Anna and I a bright, colorful abstract painting of a reinterpreted Jesus. She told us the piece was called “Jesus Piece: A Self-Portrait at 27.” Among the vibrant red background the yellow sun-like image, what caught my attention was the eyes of the reinterpreted Jesus that stood in the forefront. There’s something disconcerting in the way  the subject stared right at me, judging me, telling me that if I should have something to say, I must say it now.

I learned that  this piercing examination, representing both societal pressures and the individual’s critical self-reflection, was what Gordon exactly intended.

The gallery was originally set up so that Skinner could be in front with rows of chairs facing him. However, he preferred a circle arrangement so that all fifteen or so people in attendance could see him and everyone else.
His art pieces, with mediums like acrylic paints and spray paints, surrounded us on four walls.

At a younger age, Skinner struggled with his own identity as an African-American, and according to his artist statement, he often feels like “he is part of a group that feels fragmented, colonized, and lost.”

So when he started painting, three years ago (really? yes, 2009), he wanted to “vent that sense of invisibility in a tangible way.”

Through what he calls integrity art, Skinner seeks to communicate raw and honestly the complexities of identity. He said, “We all wear masks for different reasons.” His artworks, in addition to exploring his own personal journey with identity, seeks to remove the layers of an individual, causing the outsider to reflect on his own concept of self.

Integrity art is “going with your gut,” according to Skinner, something that art school does not allow many artists to do. Skinner considers himself the polar opposite of art school.

Asked when he knows he’s finished with a particular artwork, Skinner said that he constantly works on his art. Even the ones hanging in the gallery have the potential for extension. He compared himself to a driver and the audience to his passengers. “I’m taking you somewhere,” he said to the attendees. Through his work He wants to leave members with a solid idea, something that could allow them to understand a concept without knowing specifically what they had just picked up.

I see his artwork as a homage to previous artists who inspired him once. Included among his influencers,  Jean-Michel Basquiat, Jean Dubuffet, Picasso and John Lennon, is talented musician Kurt Cobain, “who took his craft very seriously” and had “his heart on his sleeve.” Like, Cobain’s music, Skinner said that his paintings attempt to connect with a lot of different people.

I found that like many brilliant artists, Skinner seemed to have trouble communicating his artistic process. We’d press him to describe his thinking, and he’d answer, with intermittent pauses, as if trying to translate his beautiful language into a simpler one for the inspired attendees. He said he’ll see a shape, an “intentionally raw quality,” and try his best to capture it with his brush. He finds himself for the most part inspired by an idea or a circumstance and goes about “mastering that spontaneity,” by putting his work down on canvas.

Skinner was raised in Hamden, Conn. He now resides in New Haven and along with practicing his art, he’s holding down three jobs.

He’s really an all-around fantastic and brilliant guy. I know that Dogwood is so honored  to have Gordon on board, and we’re excited for what’s coming this semester. This is not the last time you’ll hear about Gordon Skinner, trust me.

Loan Le is one of three Dogwood managing editors. A third-year majoring in journalism and creative writing, Loan is also the executive editor of Fairfield University’s campus newspaper, The Mirror, which publishes weekly.

In addition to reconsidering and reordering the practicalities of our journal, Sonya and staff have also decided that our 10-year-old publication needed a facelift. I was in charge of major Dogwood surgery.

When I first started designing, I heard typeface and font being used interchangeably.

However, to sum it up, Typhophile user Norbert Florendo explained in an article:

Font is what you use, and typeface is what you see.

Typeface is a set of font family like Times New Roman, Arial, or Georgia. Font is the specification of a typeface (Arial in 12 pt).

Believe me, people take typefaces seriously. Yale University has its own website that discusses the reasoning and history of their typeface and the fonts that have been used for administration communication, school publications, college applications, etc.

As I was searching for a proper typeface for the literary journal, I had to question what statement does Dogwood want to make? In our mission statement, we wrote:

We are open to what you do with words and sentences as long as they feel like your own.

I knew then that we needed a typeface that is stable and sturdy, yet welcoming at the same time.

One change that a Dogwood reader will recognize right way is the capitalization of the first letter in our title. I’m not sure about the reasoning to use a lower case ‘d,’ and I never understood it. I didn’t think it came across as serious enough. Perhaps the previous editors were trying to make a statement, but I don’t think it’s necessary. We don’t want to seem like we are pushing something and being something that we are not.

In setting out to create the new Dogwood typeface, I had two options for typeface: serif or sans serif?

A serif is that detail you see at the end of letter strokes. If typeface does not include such details, it’s labeled a sans serif.

I started to think about the common typefaces that I’ve come across.

Times New Roman? As a serif typeface, it’s way too overdone. Arial? Something seems so lifeless about it. Comic sans? Please. Don’t even start with me.

I’ve also checked out the typefaces of notable publications in the literary world. For example, I looked at Creative Nonfictionand its use of a sans serif typeface. Capitalized titles make me cringe, but then I realized that Creative Nonfiction has the right to be obnoxious after so many years in business. The typeface boasts of an established print and online journal, which is something to talk about, especially in this economy.

From my experience, I’ve learned that some people don’t take sans serif types seriously. For me, I love sans serif characters because their appearances are so understated, which makes the whole look even more eye-catching.

I initially chose a serif typeface and the editors all thought: “Eh.” I mean, we’re not old. We can’t be old! We’re young compared to some publications, especially after our hiatus. No. The new typeface needed to exude sophistication, ingenuity, and most importantly, stability. We needed something to say:

We have finally arrived.

And so we chose, in a surprisingly painless process of elimination, ITC Avant Garde Gothic as our typeface for the cover.

This typeface is what’s also known as a geometric sans-serif because the “o” letters are circular and the stems of other letters are straight. We also considered the font to be modern, and the editors at Dogwood like to be hip and cool. Down with it.

Yes, Dogwood is here to stay.

Loan Le is one of three Dogwood managing editors. A third-year majoring in journalism and creative writing, Loan is also the executive editor of Fairfield University’s campus newspaper, The Mirror, which publishes weekly.

“Don’t do it.” she said.

Sleepy, warm and tired I had just muttered to my friend in the Fordham University Ram Van that I was thinking about going into publishing.  Maybe I was in a state of delirium.  I had spent all day shopping and running around traveling from Coney Island to Manhattan and for some reason decided that this was the perfect time to discuss my future.  So here I am, lulled into a false sense of security amongst my carefree and just as delirious friends talking about how I’d love to go into publishing.  The driver of the van, who was apparently eavesdropping, felt inclined to turn down her Mumford and Son’s playlist decided to share some encouraging words of wisdom.  Practically blowing through every red light, narrowly making the green, she relayed her publishing horror story.

“Don’t do it.” she said, looking lost, as if on an acid trip flash back.  “I was in publishing, and hated it.  You think it’s going to be glamorous and it isn’t.  If you aren’t on top you get treated like crap and if you are the lowest of the low get ready to be used.”  She takes a break making a left turn on red. “I got to meet authors like J.K. Rowling and that was cool I guess… but it’s not worth the torture.  It’s all girls who graduated from Vassar, whose parents pay for their apartments in the city.  It’s not for us.”

I was scared; first because this woman was driving around the streets of New York like a maniac and secondly because she put me in the same category as her.  Was I doomed to dream of the perfect publishing career and then come to the bitter realization that I am just another cog in the wheel with no real voice.  No, I would never let that happen.  Dogwood is like a fairy tale, as corny and cliché as it sounds.  I couldn’t have asked for a better and more convenient internship.  What I have to say matters.  Our meetings are productive.  What we do has a direct effect on the issue we are putting out.  And more importantly, what we are doing is having a greater and hopefully positive effect on others like our readers, contributors, judges, and artists.

Analyzing literature is a passion of mine, so much so that watching a movie or reading a story becomes a physiological puzzle.  These complexities that I, as well as my peers and colleges see in literature should be translated to the way it is produced.  The cover art, the paper, the merchandise should represent the stories the journal or book is producing as best as possible.  New methods and ideas have circulated through our small staff and have brought Dogwood to a place where it represents the new ideas that art brings with every generation and every year.  The theme is edgier, more realistic.  The cover depicts a man, drawn quite abstractly but making a clear statement concerning social and culture issues of the present.  How can we make this different, better, worth more to the reader and us?  These questions drive me not only to do the best for this publication, but to also think of my future as someone involved in publishing, writing and the literary world.

This week we present five more favorite literary magazines, with descriptions written by our intrepid assistant editors:

The Common: “Inspired by this mission (finding the extraordinary) and the roles of the town common, a public gathering place for the display and exchange of ideas, The Common seeks to recapture an old idea.” The idea of bringing back the old concept of a common space for discussing ideas and thoughts is exactly what the modern day literary world needs, to move away from this idea of isolation and the idea that reading is just a personal and private venture. As the website claims, The Common is “A modern sense of place.”
-Celeste Tallarico

Epiphany magazine has a unique visual style, uses social media to connect with their fans and readers, and allows submissions in nonfiction, fiction, poetry, and translated genres. They are looking for writing “wherever it may fall on the spectrum” from “experimental to traditional.” Epiphany editors want pieces that are out of the ordinary in more ways than one, hence their title.  For their Fall/Winter publication, they are asking for stories that have to do with war, in any sense. This allows them to expand their horizon while also staying with their clear mission statement. I look forward to seeing more from them.
-Giovanna Giampa

Although written for mothers and by mothers, Literary Mama‘s honest and raw content contains emotions that can speak to a variety of audiences, including single dads, career women, and college girls looking for a laugh (or cry). From the emotionally raw content to plain white background, you would never think that the majority of its contributors spent half of their days in the colorful world of Sesame Street and shiny metallic picture books.
-Lindsay Wrinn

Arcadia Magazine (a second vote!) claims, “we do not ascribe to a certain aesthetic, nor do we expect that you do.” The fact that this magazine does not bind or define itself by any particular aesthetic makes it so that the content in the magazine is varied. People are able to submit fiction, poetry, film, comedy, artwork, etc., of any genre. The ability for artists to submit any type of work -– with no page limits or limits on content — gives the magazine a “no boundaries” vibe. I like the idea of an aesthetic in flux because it makes the magazine feel less rigid, and there is an element of the unexpected. Not only that, but the editors of the magazine, who always “speak” to the reader with a hint of humor, give the impression that you should feel proud if the magazine publishes your work, but more importantly, that they are honored and lucky for you to have submitted it.
- Jamie Gallerani

Salamander Magazine is a nonprofit literary organization affiliated with Suffolk University. Personally, I liked the simple approach it took to present itself without filling up the page with too much information. Not only do you get their current issue but you also get what kind of genre it’s focusing on. The writers that are involved are given their own section and a link to read issue excerpts as well as explore its subscription options is available with easy navigation. The guidelines are short and simple to follow allowing submissions for poetry, fiction and memoirs.
-Pedro Ramirez