Note from the Editors
Amal says: Welcome to our Fifth Anniversary Issue!
Jess says: Welcome to our enthusiastically elegant epicurean extravaganza, for gallantry, fun, and the Goblin Fruit way! What? Why are you looking at me like that, Amal?
Amal, studiously ignoring the Jess, says: We have so very much to share! In addition to the issue's splendid poems, we're presenting a prize giveaway, new Mischief, and most excitingly, the first Act of a four-part poem by Catherynne M. Valente, to be serialised seasonally here at Goblin Fruit.
Jess says: Let's not forget our surprise Ten Time Goblin Fruit Poets Feature. Personally, I think that's pretty exciting. And all it took was five years!
At this point, dear readers, please put on your sappy, sentimental music of choice. Some violin music would not be out of place. Harp music would be in keeping. Do you know what five years of Goblin Fruit means? It means ...
Amal says: ...What, so I'm the sentimental one? I'm supposed to sum up what five years' worth of 'zine means to us? I am supposed to flay flesh from bone and bare my heart for the world to see in order to pave the way for the fox-tail's twitch of a quip you'll inevitably deliver? Is that how this is going to work?
Jess says: Naturally. I know the way stories go, how poetry needs must progress. I've studied with foxes, owls, witches and professors of the tale, and where a quip is needed, why, a quip must rise.
But look, I'll get us started. Violin music still playing? Good. Five years of Goblin Fruit means, to me, that we've discovered the promised isles. We've come to be a part of this wonderful community of mad, moonstruck, poetry-blooded people who savor each phrase, who devour words, who suck the pips out of beauty. For ourselves, we've discovered a community which isn't afraid to eat the pomegranate seeds, and stay with poetry.
We've put out a chapbook. We've published 333 (and 1/4) poems.
Amal says: Which of course was completely deliberate, as 3 + 3 + 3 = 9, and we're not counting Cat's poem until it is complete.
Jess says: [Aside] And that decision was in no way based on our obsession with the number nine.
Amal says: But this issue, this anniversary — what it means to me isn't only a matter of how many issues we've put out. It's meant seeing our volume of submissions increase beyond anything we ever dreamed. It's meant seeing those submissions headed with effusions of love for Goblin Fruit, for the joy of having discovered it. It's meant receiving questions from people wanting to start their own 'zines, wondering how to go about it, but feeling like they can do it, because we did. That feels like having come full circle from having knocked on Mike Allen's virtual door five years ago to ask about this publishing thing.
Jess says: Before Amal and I close this memo and wander off into the sunset (Amal says: sunrise for me!), we'd like to congratulate our Rhysling nominees!
- Lisa Bradley, "The Haunted Girl" Fall 2010
- C.S. E. Cooney, "The Sea King's Second Bride" Spring 2010
- Theodora Goss, "Ravens" Fall 2010
- Rose Lemberg, "Twin-born" Fall 2010
- Stephanie Parent, "Tinkerbell" Spring 2010
Oh, but that's not all. Mike Allen, that dastardly, nefarious rival and accomplice, snagged us two with the "Mythic Fruit" issue!
- Rachel Manija Brown, "Minotaur Noir" Winter 2010
- W. Gregory Stewart and David Kopaska-Merkel, "Season of the Worm" Winter 2010
And a couple from the Goblin Delirium issue got nominated. Three, in fact.
- Shweta Narayan, "Cave-smell", Issue 22, Winter/Spring 2010
- C. S. E. Cooney, "Ere One Can Say It Lightens", Issue 22, Winter/Spring 2010
- Joshua Gage, "Rats", Issue 22, Winter/Spring 2010
Good luck with the award!
Amal says: Thanks, as ever, to our dear Oliver Hunter for this issue's art; to that mightiest of musclebeasts, Dmitri Zagidulin, for his tireless code-toilings on our behalf; and to our contributors, without whom we would howl at the moon until it gave us poetry.
And that's all, really. Go on. Read these poems. There are crows in them, and rivers, desire and confrontation. There is wet air and cool nights when the Robber Bride rides. There is the moon, and feathers, and stars.
Happy Spring.
