Striving for the Brass Ring
A few months ago I opened my mailbox to the most wonderful surprise. The fall issued of Carve Magazine had arrived, protected in its plastic sleeve, new and shiny and full of words waiting to be devoured.
I brought the treasure into my house and laid it on the kitchen counter, a willful effort to contain my enthusiasm. No, I must sort through the boring old mail first, I thought, resting my hand on the edge of the magazine and admiring this issue’s cover. Bills to the desk, junk to the trash, and what about dinner? Oh who cares! How about a quick peak behind the cover. I ripped the plastic and let it drift to the floor while I held the magazine — no, the journal — in my hands.
The smooth cover, the thick pages, the smell of sentences coming alive on paper. I read the editor’s note first, as always, then skipped to the back to read the contributor bios. Who would be opening their world for me this time? I study these notes with every issue. I read the stories, essays, poems and interviews. I seek these writers out on the worldwide web, hungry for more of their work. I want to know how they came to be writers, where they find inspiration, and what their journeys to publication looked like.
