A Letter from the Editors
From the outgoing Editor-in-Chief, Elise Wallace and incoming Editor-in-Chief, Claire Sasko
“Signs of Life” by Kira Homsher
These days, my main source of worth is found in asking my companion, Bryce, if he would like some tea and then, after he says yes-please, making it for him, careful not to forget the honey.
Art by Coley Spencer
“Now You Can Rest” by Magdalena Bartkowska
I had made my mother feel like a little girl who’d done something wrong. Why couldn’t I just shut up and be grateful for the damn food?
Art by Julia Stankevych
“Anah” by Jordan Dilley
Back and forth, back and forth. Anah repeats this litany, barely aware of the words as she pushes and pulls the grindstone.
Art by Richard Hanus
On Submitting Poetry to Barnstorm
From the desks of our poetry editor, Johnathan Riley, and the poetry readers.
Three Poems by Frederick Pollack
But say he came back - that
somehow the system kept
his place for him, and all its dust,
Art by Jordyn Smalling
A Sketch, Not a Plan: Borrowing from Other Mediums of Creative Expression
It took me a while to accept that drawing is not my medium.
“A Day at the Beach” by Sarah Kovatch
A summer memory with the children: It wasn’t so long ago, but now even one or two developmental stages past feels like ancient history. That’s how it is in motherhood.
Art by Virginia Sitzes
Literary vs Genre (and Why It’s Not Actually A Contest)
From the desk of our fiction editor, Heidi Turner.
“Michael” by Isaac Black
“I don’t use maps when I travel. I love to just wander without knowing where I’m going. You get to experience all the things that locals become blind to, you know?”
Art by Mallika Hegde
“Daddy Dream Suite” by Erin Carlyle
I’m don’t know
from where, but my daddy
sends me a spirit: black dog,
Art by Saunders Drukker
The Last Donkey Doctor of Tulips, California, or Properly Titling Your Poems
From the desk of our poetry editor, Johnathan Riley.
On Keeping a Blog: the value of revising and revisiting records
From the desk of our nonfiction editor, Claire Sasko.
“Cataracts” by Nikki Barnhart
A free dog—my mother knew someone who knew someone. The catch was that she was going blind: cataracts, a new word for me, three syllables click-clacking in my mouth.
Art by Iva Dukic
“endangered” by Heather Lang-Cassera
the sun will rose-quartz
the sky as lizard tracks barbwire
their way throughout
the yellow desert daisies
Art by Abigail Chase Miller
What Our Fiction Readers Are Looking For
From our Fiction editor, Heidi Turner, and the Fiction readers.