First off, we just want to say thanks to everyone who
submitted. There are a lot of quality writers out there and we’re glad to have
been able to feature a handful of them. It’s pretty obvious they poured their
hearts and souls into their work. That’s a hard thing to do—to turn feelings
into a comprehensible creative masterpiece. More than that, something which
others enjoy reading. Art is a funny thing like that—manufactured out of
emotion only to provide others with entertainment. Or at least that is how it
should be, but sometimes a story is just a story for the hell of it.
The only thing harder than turning emotion into creation
is to share the product. It takes a lot of courage to be able to share your
work with others—it is part of you, in a sense, and it takes a certain level of
trust to let someone else read it. What if they criticize it, for starters?
Maybe it isn’t their “style”—how do you not take offense to that? It can be a
humbling experience, sometimes even difficult, disheartening, maybe even
soul-crushing. What if they ask you questions about the content, questions you
don’t want to answer? The best answer is “Oh, it’s just a poem”, but they know
better than that, no matter how many ambiguous metaphors you thread together.
When you begin to share your work with others, be it
close friends or strangers online or at a poetry reading if you’re really
outgoing, you will eventually get to a point where you want to share it with as
many people as you can. That means publication. Publication is tough. When your
friend doesn’t like your poem or short story, they will tell you exactly why
(even if it is a simple “I don’t get it”), but when an editor doesn’t like it,
all they’re going to do is tell you they don’t like it—but in a little bit
nicer and more eloquent of words. Two, maybe three sentences, is about all they
will give you. Any more than that, it usually makes it sting that much more.
The more you submit, the more you will get these kinds of responses and it
hurts—I’m not going to lie to you. Rejection is a bitter pill, especially in
regards to something you hold so dearly, something that came from deep inside
of you and is essentially part of you. But those rejection letters, you hold
onto them. They’re badges of courage. It takes a strong, brave person to share
their work with friends—it takes an even stronger, braver person to want to
share their work with a million strangers. Not counting ourselves, we had
twelve brave souls test the water, each one giving us a peek into their minds
past their insecurities. We thank them for that. We applaud them for that.
We asked for quality literature from young, inexperienced
writers and that is exactly what we got. Most everyone was under 30—the
youngest 15 and the oldest something like 45—mostly from Ohio, but several from
the United Kingdom and one expatriate currently teaching English in South Korea.
Most had never been published before, most never having even tried. I hope they
try more now. Maybe even submit more to us—we wouldn’t mind reading it. We got
a lot of great work by a lot of great writers and we hope you enjoy it. We look
forward to getting more submissions from the rest of you.
The editors would like to give a big thank you to
everyone who submitted and everyone who has supported us thus far, including all
the folks at Writer’s Block Poetry in Columbus, Ohio. Scott Woods and his crew
have been a big influence on both of us, as well as everyone who comes out to
their open mic. In fact, that is how the two of us got together on this
project.
Bryant would also like to thank Paul, Trenton, Jeff, and Simon
for all of their encouragement—past, present, and future—not necessarily in
regards to this project in particular, but life as a whole. He would also like
to thank his co-editor, Jacob, for all the help he has offered.
Jacob would also like to thank his friends Lauren and
Tommy for putting their necks out there and submitting poetry.
The first issue of Some Weird Sin can be found by clicking here.
