Letter from the Editor

Dear reader,

One could be excused for thinking, after reading a bit into this issue, that the world is in even worse shape than it seemed. (And, just at this moment, that is an especially depressing thought, we know.)

After all, in this issue there is ground sown with world-historic atrocities. There is a restless, shrinking portent of doom that visitors give the same blithe treatment as Wall Drug. The natural world is sacrificed to Mammon. There are disappearances, political prisoners. There is a visit to a factory farm. Loved ones are abandoned. Wanton cruelty abounds.

But, after reading more of the issue, we, at least, find ourselves thinking: Who benefits when we choose to look away? Carelessness can be especially cruel, can’t it? Aren’t calls to action also displays of optimism? Not that the contents of Issue 106 are calls to action, but, while we acknowledge that the act of bringing something horrible to light can glorify that thing, we also believe that, in more capable hands, it can instead remind the reader that there are things that should not be, things that should be changed. To think that something should be changed is also to imagine that it can be changed, isn’t it? Just now, that is a thought heavily freighted with hope.

If that sounds naive, reader, please consider your source: Ten years ago, our founders believed there was writing that deserved to be published that either wasn’t being published or else wasn’t being published in a way that was accessible to its ideal readers, and so they started this magazine. Ten years later, we still believe those things, and, for 106 issues and counting, have been working to change what we can. We are, in other words, optimists.

And anyway, this issue isn’t just gloom and doom. There is also freedom here, including the freedom to imagine the world working in a different, more equitable way. There are reminiscences, love, pleasures savored, fantasies entertained, couplings and partnerships, and, yes, there is even hope. There is incredible resilience. There is beauty, reader. We hope you see it, too.

Sincerely,
Gabriel Blackwell