Dear Readers,
As Solstice’s new Editor-in-Chief, I am grateful to be welcomed into a community anchored in the shared mission of amplifying the voices of writers with diverse backgrounds, lived experiences, and identities, particularly those who are marginalized.
I was fortunate to attend this year’s AWP conference in Baltimore, spending my time at Solstice’s table speaking with writers from all over the county. Many people asked what Solstice means by “diverse.” It includes but is not limited to race, religion, nationality, age, ability, socio-economic status, gender identity, sexual orientation, and neurodivergence. This mission is fundamental to Solstice’s identity as a publication and as a community, one that I am deeply committed to upholding.
Our Spring Issue features more than forty talented artists, including Jonas Attilus, a Haitian-born psychiatrist and writer based in Minnesota, who shares his experience of living in the United States with a foreign passport in the nonfiction essay “This Thing in My Pocket.” Cheyenne Raine, a blind author, recounts the haunting story of a blind woman escaping an in-patient program in the short fiction piece “Your Name is Evangeline.” Maria S. Picone, a queer Korean American adoptee and poet, meditates on the experience of being brought to Massachusetts as an infant in the poem “4 mos 5 days.” I hope you enjoy reading this issue as much as I have.
As Solstice prepares to celebrate two decades, we continue to expand from community-based readings to new workshops and mentorships, possibly resuming an annual print edition, and by hosting our 20th Anniversary Benefit. Please consider donating to Solstice in any amount to help us continue this critical work.
I also invite you to trust us with your finest work. Our annual Summer Writing Contest is now open through June 1. We are honored to have four powerhouse judges this year: Jessica Treadway (fiction), Porsha Olayiwola (poetry), Sven Birkerts (nonfiction), and John Vasquez Mejias (graphic literature). More details can be found here.
With gratitude,
Karen Sherk Chio
