Editor's Notes: Issue 9
“The words of Spanish poet, Antonio Machado, come to my mind with this issue of Saranac Review: “Traveler, there is no path/ The path is made by walking.” With this issue, Saranac Review cuts a new path. This is our debut online edition of the literary journal. We have also made available print copies on demand, an option that we hope to provide for future issues.
This decision marks a different direction but still involves a continuation of our mission to publish the most engaging and provocative poetry and prose that reaches us from the United States, Canada and beyond. The future represents challenges, risks and uncertainty. But we also see it as a future full of possibilities and opportunities. Foremost, online publication allows our talented contributors to connect with a larger audience. As we move forward on this path, we invite our readers on the journey and hope we meet more lovers of the literary arts along the way.
This past year we ran our first Writing Contest. Jacqueline Kolosov won the fiction prize for “Little One,” a story about a widower recuperating from his loss who regains a sense of purpose and love by taking care of his stepson’s baby. Jeanne Wagner’s meditation on the power of words, a poem crackling with electric imagery balanced with subtle import and meaning, won the poetry prize. Congratulations to the winners. Many thanks to the judges, Jo-Ann Mapson and Aimee Nezhukumatathil, for their participation and fine selections. We also thank the writers who submitted their work for consideration.
Our featured artist, Adrienne Nunez, has graced our pages with “Border Walls,” a series of handmade and digital “embroidered representations” of problematic borders throughout the world. SR has always aspired to promote “border crossings,” so the series is a visual affirmation of that goal.
This issue contains some of the strongest fiction we have ever received, and the poetry, as usual, is diverse and welcoming. Kent Berg’s excerpt from his Vietnam memoir, “Band-aids,” and William Dameron’s “Splintered Light on Cedar Creek,” from his coming of age/coming out memoir, rounds our prose. We welcome returning poets, Francine Witte and T. Alan Broughton (who sadly passed away in 2013), and our Canadian colleagues who appear in this issue.
We hope you enjoy the writing in this online edition of SR, and wish you the best on your own path making endeavors. Send us your feedback. We’d love to hear from you.”
J.L. Torres Plattsburgh, N.Y.