Sky Island Journal is a new entrant in the world of literary journals. Its inaugural issue was published in July this year, featuring poetry, flash fiction and flash non-fiction.
As I read through it, I found myself examining the editorial choices with more fervor than usual. I had to consciously focus on the content at hand and silence a continuous hum of questions about what the new journal added to the literary space. While the answers will reveal themselves by and by, one thing is for certain - being a maiden issue is not easy. It must feel like being the new student in class who must endure curious looks and, at some point, answer existential questions about who it is, where it comes from and whether it has what it takes to make it to the cool gang.
The co-editors, Jason Splichal and Jeff Sommerfield clearly spell out the raison d'être for Sky Island:
We had been frustrated for many years by the inaccessibility, stuffiness, and sloth-like responsiveness of many literary journals. We knew there had to be a better way forward.
Jason is an English teacher and a poet, with six poetry books under his belt. Jeff is also a teacher and has a prolific background in professional writing. They conceived of a journal that would challenge readers intellectually and emotionally, through a platform that is advertising-free and allows an uninterrupted reading experience. For writers, they assure an individualized response to each one within a week.
And so, Sky Island was born, most aptly, in the sky island region of New Mexico. Sky islands are isolated mountains surrounded by flat desert and are home to an exotic collection of life. They offer refuge to unique and relict species of animals as well as human cultures. Much like these rich mountains, their literary counterpart too strives to be a home for creative writing that is original and diverse.
This issue features twenty-one pieces from sixteen writers. It is heavy on poetry with sixteen poems. The remaining are five pieces of non-fiction and a lone piece of flash fiction. While there is no explicit theme, what all the entries do have in common is clean and unambiguous writing style.
Pamela Anderson’s poetry has a way of lingering on after it has been read. She skilfully weaves together all that is contradictory, the sad and funny, the living and dead. In Book Club, she swerves from being satirical to sensitive with lyrical ease.
… Not one heart is intact.
This one missing a chunk another cleaved in half
another stitched together with coarse black thread.
Still they smile their brilliant, white smiles salute
each other compare (slyly) vague lines at corners
of eyes amount of meat on slender hip bones. … This is a chance
to show off their beauty with not one book in sight.
In "Baking French Bread," she kneads together cooking styles of the dead with baking for the living.
I bake to honor
the memories of dead women.
My grandmother, who pulled my
fingers into the flour, kneaded
with me until blisters pocked its
smooth surface. …
…I tear off a hot slab of bread,
slather it with butter. Offer
a prayer of thanks to the dead.
For the living.
"Your Idols" by Alexander Zitzner delivers a heavyweight message on the back of seemingly light words:
… If they're mountains, then you will be
building yourself bolder, slowly eroding
to dust from the world’s weight on your shoulders.
…
But if you have no idol,
you will be god, staring back at itself
waiting for reflection in a clear tide pool.
These words echo with relevance in today’s increasingly polarized world.
In flash non-fiction, "Common Ground" by Andrew Patrie stands out as a touching account of a father’s struggle with his nine-year-old son’s orientation. For his birthday party, Simon wants to wear a dress. Through the afternoon, we stay with the father through his sense of denial as he talks his son out of wearing a dress, his joy, or rather relief, as Simon indulges in ‘normal’ play with other boys, his shame-and-insecurity-fired-resentment as the father on the next table takes off his shirt and reveals a proud chest, tattooed with his children’s names. And the gentle, pragmatic advice from his wife, urging him to "stop seeing the worst in people." The writing strikes a chord with its raw honesty, as this is how most of us tend to deal with fear of any kind.
Most contributors of this issue are established writers, editors, teachers and Pushcart nominees while a couple of them are emerging writers. Majority of them are American, with only two from Canada and London. This would seem incidental though, because they read blind. In a refreshing departure from convention, they ask writers to abstain from sending bios along with their submissions. Work is evaluated purely on its own merit. For a fee of $3, writers can submit three poems and one piece of flash fiction and flash non-fiction each. Being ad-free, they do not pay. They do, however, promise to respond within seven days, with detailed, individualized responses to every writer. They read through the year and accept simultaneous submissions.
Another feature that sets it apart from other journals is their choice of reading format. To provide a focused and immersive reading experience, instead of the usual scroll-through format of online journals, here each piece is downloaded as a read-only Word document. While the intention is laudable, it does make the pre-reading experience a tad tedious, given there are twenty-one pieces.
Going forward, the journal will need to iron out some creases so that the issues are in line with the editors’ vision. For example, flash fiction is conspicuously under-represented in this issue. Similarly, while the final line-up of contributors is, and should be, based on quality of work, the current preponderance of American writes may perhaps be made more cosmopolitan as the journal becomes better known across geographies and attracts work from all over the world. Finally, the technicalities of the download mechanism can be made more reader-friendly.
Until then, this new kid is a welcome addition to the class. It has an eye for unpretentious writing and promises to be nice to writers. It is one to watch closely as it carves a niche for itself.