Letter From the Editor

Editor’s Note

What unites these pieces of writing and art is their close, careful attention to the natural world: to migrating birds, to trees we see outside our window even if we live in a city, to the stark beauty of a desert sunset and the tragedy of changing weather patterns, to snowflakes and cut flowers, and even to the worlds we invent in our fiction. Each of these pieces enables me to see something I have seen thousands of times, like the sunset, in a new way. They also serve as necessary reminders, as the weather gets colder and the leaves begin to fall, of the beauty and significance of each season. After reading this issue, I hope you will feel inspired to look more closely at the world you see outside your window or on your way to school. Emma Wood

Editor’s Note

This is an issue that looks at relationships from many different angles. The poems and stories (and many of the images too) explore what it means to be a friend, a sibling, a child, and a student. You will notice many of these pieces are set at school. The start of school every fall can be an exciting but also frightening time. I remember always being worried about whether I’d have classes with my friends, and how I would cope if not. I always found a way to cope and usually made new friends in the process! I hope these pieces will push you to think about the relationships in your lives—how they have changed and shaped you—and inspire you to create art about them, in any form. I also hope they will inspire you to reach out to new friends this school year. Happy September, Emma Wood

Editor’s Note

You’ll quickly notice this issue is more than a bit different than our other issues. There are no stories, artworks, or poems—only reviews! (I talk about the value of critical reading and reviewing in a longer note on page 4.) The other thing that makes this issue different is the way we put it together: most of the reviews were commissioned. This means that instead of passively waiting for writers to submit on their own, we actively reached out to both former contributors and current reviewers for our website. We asked them specifically to review a classic book, poem, or film from a list we at Stone Soup compiled. I hope the results inspire your summer reading!

The Value of Critical Reading

In addition to being Editor of Stone Soup, I am also a university instructor. When I teach creative writing, I like to tell my students that the most important part of the class is not writing but reading because reading will you teach you how to be a writer. As you sit there, eagerly turning the page to find out what will happen next, you are also taking in sentence structures, vocabulary, pacing, and the many other features that make up a poem, a story, or a book. On top of this, you are learning about what kinds of books have already been written. If you want to be a writer, it is crucial to learn about the history of the genre in which you want to write. All writers build on the work of other writers. Writing that is not built on this foundation of knowledge is often, like a house without a foundation, unable to stand for long. Finally, when you read, you are also learning about your own tastes: What do you like to read, and why? This can often help you uncover interesting insights about yourself. But all reading is not equal. Have you ever been told “You are what you eat”? Well, the same is true for what you read. If you want to be a mystery writer, read mysteries; if you want to be a poet, read poetry. But you don’t want to read just any mysteries or poems: you want to read the best mysteries and the best poems (with some breaks in between for some literary “junk food”!). The best writing and art is that which rewards close study and rereading. It is the novel or poem that you can’t stop thinking about, the one in which you find something new each time you read it. It is classic literature. The review is a place to celebrate reading—but not just any reading: close and critical reading. Writing a review pushes you to engage more deeply with a text than you might have otherwise. It opens up a dialogue between you and the book and the author, allowing you to discover more about yourself and the text in the process. In my experience, writing critically about a work I already love makes me love it even more: it makes visible all the previously invisible threads that make it so incredible. I realize now what I should say to my creative writing students is that reading critically will teach them how to be writers. You will notice that one of the reviews in this issue is a review of a film. Although I am talking specifically about books in this introduction, movies, paintings, sculptures, and other visual modes can be “read” as well, and it is just as important to engage critically with work in these mediums as well. With this in mind, I ask you to try to write at least one review this summer. Read, listen, watch; then re-read, re-listen, re-watch. And, finally, think critically about what you’ve just encountered. See what it feels like to spend time, outside of class, thinking through a work you really love (or hate). We look forward to reading the results!

Editor’s Note

This is an issue about potential, possibility, and change. In Isabel Swain’s story “Innocent but Dire Words,” a young poet dreams of a better future for herself, while in Vandana Ravi’s short story, a girl dreams of simply another place. In Grace Jiang’s poems, nature comes to life again, after its seasonal death and hibernation, and in Andrew Wu’s story sequence “Nature in my Eyes,” nature changes in our eyes, as we attempt to see it from the angles and experiences of different creatures. Change is inevitable: we change, the world changes, time moves along. And, in the spaces between, in the time when it feels as if nothing is changing, we dream of the change that might happen. And yet when that change finally does occur—when yet again the rose blooms—it still feels miraculous. After reading this issue, I hope you will feel inspired to think and write about change—in the world or in you, past or future, real or imagined. Happy summer!

Editor’s Note

Often, the work in our issues is just as concerned with animals and the natural world as with humanity and civilization—not by choice, but by necessity: it reflects our contributors’ interests. But, in this issue, people and civilization (cities! cars! castles!) are the main subjects. Patrick Lusa’s poem “Numbers” captures the hustle and bustle of everyday life; Anna Shepherd’s story “Twenty Questions, Twenty Answers” explores the complicated-but-close relationship between two sisters; and Mia Fang’s digital portrait “Lady in the Willows by the River” (on the cover) places a person squarely in the center of our usual cover landscape. We hope you enjoy reading and looking at the many other works that appear in this issue, and that you leave feeling inspired to send us some people- and car-filled stories, poetry, and artwork.

Editor’s Note

Often, the work in our issues is just as concerned with animals and the natural world as with humanity and civilization—not by choice, but by necessity: it reflects our contributors’ interests. But, in this issue, people and civilization (cities! cars! castles!) are the main subjects. Patrick Lusa’s poem “Numbers” captures the hustle and bustle of everyday life; Anna Shepherd’s story “Twenty Questions, Twenty Answers” explores the complicated-but-close relationship between two sisters; and Mia Fang’s digital portrait “Lady in the Willows by the River” (on the cover) places a person squarely in the center of our usual cover landscape. We hope you enjoy reading and looking at the many other works that appear in this issue, and that you leave feeling inspired to send us some people- and car-filled stories, poetry, and artwork.

Editor’s Note

It’s spring! The season of blooming flowers, blue skies, and baby birds cheeping in their nests. So, in this issue, in honor of spring, I wanted to celebrate the visual in all of its mediums. In addition to the romantic Parisian painting, with its dreamy golds, pinks, and blues, that graces our cover, this issue features: a painting with a paper boat literally pulling the piece into three dimensions; a painted figurine that includes an ancient Chinese poem about spring; a portfolio of stylistically bold, bright landscapes; and a traditional paper collage with a dark twist. The quality and variety of the art submissions we receive and publish in Stone Soup never ceases to amaze me; I hope you will leave this issue inspired not only by the writing but by the visual art—in all of its forms. Enjoy the April showers!

Editor’s Note

It’s spring! The season of blooming flowers, blue skies, and baby birds cheeping in their nests. So, in this issue, in honor of spring, I wanted to celebrate the visual in all of its mediums. In addition to the romantic Parisian painting, with its dreamy golds, pinks, and blues, that graces our cover, this issue features: a painting with a paper boat literally pulling the piece into three dimensions; a painted figurine that includes an ancient Chinese poem about spring; a portfolio of stylistically bold, bright landscapes; and a traditional paper collage with a dark twist. The quality and variety of the art submissions we receive and publish in Stone Soup never ceases to amaze me; I hope you will leave this issue inspired not only by the writing but by the visual art—in all of its forms. Enjoy the April showers!

Editor’s Note

This issue includes the winners of our concrete poetry contest; the winning poems are both beautiful visual works in their own right and inventive, singular texts. However, it is the combination of both shape (the form) and text (the content) that made these poems stand out. I hope when you sit down to write any work, but especially a poem, that you think about its form: Will it have stanzas? Will the lines be short or long? Will you use any rhyme or other sonic devices? These decisions are as important as what you end up writing. In addition to the concrete poems, there are many incredible photographs that I hope will encourage you to pick up a camera (or a phone), as well as stories and poems engaging with the theme of selfhood and belonging. Happy reading!

Editor’s Note

This issue includes the winners of our concrete poetry contest; the winning poems are both beautiful visual works in their own right and inventive, singular texts. However, it is the combination of both shape (the form) and text (the content) that made these poems stand out. I hope when you sit down to write any work, but especially a poem, that you think about its form: Will it have stanzas? Will the lines be short or long? Will you use any rhyme or other sonic devices? These decisions are as important as what you end up writing. In addition to the concrete poems, there are many incredible photographs that I hope will encourage you to pick up a camera (or a phone), as well as stories and poems engaging with the theme of selfhood and belonging. Happy reading!

Editor’s Note

This issue is unusual: it is made up of a novella (a short novel) and a cycle of poems. When I came across the novella Dancing in the Rain, I immediately sat up. I loved the clarity and simplicity with which Harper Miller, the author, set up scenes, not only creating a picture in my mind but evoking a mood. As you read her book, you will notice that, though she is tracing a single central plot—the drought—Miller is not afraid to let her story meander a bit. A cycle of poems is simply a group of poems on a single subject or in a single form. Vidhat Kartik’s cycle is about the four seasons. I loved the playfulness and inventiveness of his rhyme and the way certain motifs (like the “hose”) resurfaced throughout the pieces. There is so much incredible artwork in this issue, as well—from the incredibly detailed “Four Seasons” drawing to the mysterious rock formations framed so beautifully in the photograph, “Canadian Beach.” Happy reading and looking!