EDITORIAL REMARKS by M.R. Branwen
I WOULD LIKE TO BEGIN by saying a word about diversity and about how much I like it. I understand about birds of a feather and such, but I've been living in Texas for the last six months and I can state with confidence that cultural, ethnic and socioeconomic homogeny gives me the heebie-jeebies. Now, I don't have that much control over the state of the world or of the United States or of Texas, but Slush Pile Magazine is my little kingdom and here what I say goes. And while I can't control who reads the magazine or who is submitting to the magazine, at the very least I can state my desires clearly: I want diversity! And I will give special consideration to pieces submitted by persons, or about persons, having American sub-cultural, non-American, or in any other way non-normative experiences. Affirmative action? Heck yeah. I want everybody at this party.
Now that's out of the way, there are a few other pieces of important information that I must impart before introducing the issue. First and foremost, I must ask you to help me congratulate myself on the establishment of a monthly fiction series at Boston's weekly magazine, Dig Boston, thanks to the fantastic editorial staff of said publication. The readers seem to be enjoying the monthly fiction -- the series is in its twelfth month -- and, while few literary magazines can afford to pay for the fiction they publish, Dig Boston can and does. Check out their submission guidelines and, if you'd like to see what's been running over there, you can find all of the pieces linked in our blog section, including "The Website" by Cady Vishniac, "A Report From the Front" by Tyler Sage, and "My Heart Is a Cheap Fuck" by Shana Graham, in this very issue.
Speaking of: this issue we ended up with a collection of stories and poetry that neatly arc from youth to old age. I've placed them in roughly chronological order by protagonist age so you can start with our youngest protagonist in "Sinkhole" and vicariously grow older alongside the other protagonists as you progress through the issue, literally growing older in real life as you read. So you'll be growing older literally -- and literarily. C'est poétique, n'est-ce pas?
Last, but not least, is our featured artist Amy Lincoln with her captivating collection of still lifes, all backed by skies at different times of the day. I didn't arrange them from sunrise to sunset. But I should have.
— M. R. Branwen