In the beginning was the word

I've wanted to start a literary journal for quite some time now, but it never seemed to be within the realm of possibility. A journal doesn't just rise up out of nowhere; it takes vision, it takes time, it takes connections, it takes money. I, unfortunately, am lacking in just about all of those areas. And so I relegated "start a journal" to the dusty "things to do when I retire or win the lottery" repository in the back of my brain, along with pipe dreams like "open a book store/coffee house in Door County." Never mind that I don't drink coffee--that's not the point...or maybe that's exactly the point: it's a list of the unlikely. Don't we all keep a mental tally of the things we say we'd like to do but don't ever expect to achieve?


Fast forward to a few months ago. Rob Pockat, a writing major at the college where I teach, approached me about helping out with an anthology he was thinking of compiling. From there, at lightning speed, the Stoneboat project took shape. Suddenly, all of the things I didn't have fell into place. Vision? Check. (Check plus! The Stoneboat crew is full of ideas.) Time? Check. (It's summer!) Connections? Check. (A shout-out to Karl Elder is in order.) Money? Well, OK. We don't have everything, but three out of four isn't bad. And if you happen to be a friend of the arts who is looking for a worthy place to unload some cash for a tax deduction, we'd be happy to figure something out....

Suddenly, working with a crew of incredible folks has made the "start a journal" pipe dream seem not only feasible but achievable. We're doing it. We've got an awesome title, we've selected the pieces that will be published in our first issue, we've got a rough draft of the layout, we've got a cover design, and we've even got an honest-to-god stoneboat in Rob's back yard. The best part, though, is that there's more to come: the print issue (and then another, and another), readings, a website. Stay tuned -- it'll be worth it.