I’m not exactly sure how to say goodbye.
No really, I’ve started this editorial essay about 18 times and I get all tripped up in figuring out how to convey lots of things.
What I really want to say is how integral you all were–anyone who is taking the time to read this–to the success of this little magazine project. You lifted us up with so many layered and thoughtful and funny and terrifying submissions. You showed us social media love and floated our payment to writers and artists through subscriptions and donations for several years (until Twitter chirped into the dumpster, but that’s a whole other story).
You welcomed us into the community. We offered the platform and you hung out with us on it. One of our main missions was to show respect to writers, and you showed us respect in return. You became our supporters, co-conspirators, and friends. You became a part of the little blue ghostie gang.
What I really want to say is that closing isn’t a bad thing. There are seven years of stories, poems, essays, and editorials here: 340+ unique, individual voices, tales, views, experiences. They were published with joy (and blood, sweat, and tears). We made the decision to move on before the burnout wore through that passion. We live in a world that is constantly moving forward and fast. Our library of tales is full of brilliant words and wonder, that folx can go back to re-read, or discover for the first time. I consider that a success.
What I really want to say is this magazine could not have existed without the partnership of four women who supported each other. This is a heart project of the four founding editors and we were tied together into some gordian knot/finger puzzle, working on every single issue (never missed a publication date! Never missed a payment to a writer!). Removing any of those four cornerstones would have altered the whole structure.
The reading team came in four years ago and strengthened and solidified the structure. Marie Baca Villa elevated our social media, blogging, and shone as the monthly flash fiction contest editor. Maria Schrater took on the role of poetry editor and even handled some cover art direction. We expanded with more talented reading staff: AJ Van Belle, Evelyn Teng, Léon Othenin-Girard, Monique Cuillerier, Moriam E. Kuye, & Tehnuka. They definitely extended our capacity and heartbeat.
And what I really want to share, but has taken 300 words to get here, is how much this project has changed me. How it has kept me alive, in many ways. My heart is in this digital record, blood and viscera entangled with each ebook, online post, bespoke audio recording.
Because I didn’t want to talk about my chronic illness again, (It gets boring, I know) but I got really sick in the same month we launched our first issue. That was the start of a different kind of journey for me. Due to the illness, I haven’t been able to travel at all, but because of this magazine, because of this community, because of these stories taking me all around the world and voices beyond the global North West perspective, I felt more connected and less isolated. I traveled through these new stories, through the relationships created by talking with writers and readers and editors.
Pushing through to read submissions, talk to authors, edit essays and poems, and do the back-end work pulled me out of bed on more than a handful of occasions. It was the electric jolt to my rebuilt body lying on the slab of the mad scientist’s lab. So thank you to anyone who tossed us lightning bolts.
It’s been a really lovely ride. If you decide to create your own speculative fiction magazine, which I would actually recommend, build it with people you trust. There is no way to do this alone.
So to end this longish, Midwestern-esque, goodbye. We’re gathering our things and gabbing as we slow scooch toward the exit. Standing in the open door chatting with various friends. Walking down to the car, stopping to reminisce on the way. Virtual hugs and kind words, and now we’re sitting in that car with the window rolled down, really ready to turn the key and drive away.
I guess what I really want to say is thank you. We’re going to miss you.
