"The Writing is Just...Good." Online Mag Showcases Variety of Emerging Talents

At a talk I attended recently, Michael Nye, Managing Editor of The Missouri Review, was asked, “As the editor of a print journal, what are your thoughts, if any, on the quality of online-only literary magazines?” Nye answered quickly, saying, “I really don’t think it makes a difference, because there are so many great online-only publications out there these days – for example, Sundog Lit.

Such praise from a highly esteemed writer and editor got my attention – I’d never heard of Sundog Lit. I decided to take a look.

Via the ‘about’ section of the journal’s website:  “Sundog Lit publishes writing that scorches the earth.  Sundog Lit is all about what emerges from the ruins, not what idles in the calm before the storm.  Sundog Lit is blood, rusty gears, the sweat of toil, working-class, revolutionary, everyday.  Sundog Lit is literature that rages.” 

Before considering what ‘scorched-earth’ means, let’s examine the more concrete aspects of this online literary journal. 

Issue 1 of Sundog Lit was published in October of 2012.  Issue 5, Issue 6, and Issue 7 were published in 2014.  With an average of more than two issues per year, each with between 20 and 25 works of Poetry, Fiction, and, less commonly, Creative Nonfiction, it is readily apparent the magazine’s staff has worked hard.  

Justin Lawrence Daugherty, the magazine’s Founding and Managing Editor, runs a rather cosmopolitan ship – he is the only Sundog Lit staff member with ties to the Great Plains.  A good number of Sundog’s editors are from either the Pacific Northwest or Michigan, but others live in France and Oregon. 

As a non-print magazine, all of the journal’s content, both current and past, is available for free through its website. 

As far as submitting to this goes, Sundog Lit operates with the policy of rolling submissions – the doors to publication are always open, via email.  Being an online-only platform, the magazine operates with minimal overhead; thus, they do not require a submission fee.  Donations, however, are gladly accepted. 

The magazine publishes an even balance of male and female writers, in both poetry and prose.  The writers in Sundog Lit come from all across the United States, and many, like the Sundog Lit staffers, are younger, have recently earned their MFAs, and already have a modest history of publications in small literary journals.  Few of the writers, if any, are professors or academics, and few are overly distinguished.  Overall, the magazine is obviously geared towards a younger, more computer-savvy audience. 

Issues 6 and Issue 7 feature readers an eclectic mix of fiction by talented, young writers with solid, unique voices. 

To assign a label to the fiction in Issue 7 would be difficult.  Form, tone, and structure are all varied.  The only generality that perhaps applies is this:  that, as a whole, the stories tend to follow loosely in the tradition of American Realism.  This makes sense, given the early and continued influence of Realist authors on the MFA scene.  Some stories in Sundog Lit are more Realist-flavored than others, but none are cookie-cutter pieces like you would find in The New Yorker. 

Consider, for example, Laura Ender’s “The Simon,” a story in which a young woman buys a robotic boyfriend to love her unconditionally, only to find out she’d rather pick fights and argue with it, instead.  Though it feels like a Realist story, stylistically, the fantastical element of the boyfriend-robot is what allows us to explore the main character’s inner turmoil.  Such a device would likely not be found in Alice Munro or Jonathan Franzen, but the story works, and it works very, very well. 

Some of the stories are poetic and lyrical.  In “I Once Married a White Woman,” by An Tran, we hear, in heartbreaking detail, the difficulties which come about, unexpectedly, in an inter-cultural relationship.  Tran’s narrator merges family history and former culture with Buddhism and the experience of modern, materialist America. 

Some of the stories are downright funny.  In “Cardboard Graceland,” by Matthew Fogarty, we relive the last show given by a middle-aged Elvis impersonator, right before he must move back in with his parents.  He talks all about how he transformed the basement with cardboard and glitter, and what the King would think, living in the same situation. 

The Staff has not yet put out a ‘theme issue.’  The writing isn’t overtly ‘political.’  Though there doesn’t seem to be an agenda, Sundog Lit features plenty of stories written by and/or written about traditionally underrepresented groups. 

The writing of each of the pieces mentioned is superb – clear, precise, artistic.  Each writer’s voice is distinct and clear and unique.  At times, the language sings.  The stories are diverse in style, length, tone, structure, message, form, and theme.  Given the diverse backgrounds of the contributors, this should not be surprising.  Like the staff and the writers they publish, the writing is not tied to any particular geographical area.  Such diverse writing in one place is welcome and refreshing.

Also refreshing is the magazine’s dedication to Flash Fiction, as a form.

Issue 3 of Sundog Lit was actually reviewed last year in The Review Review, by Ashley Strosnider (now managing editor of Prairie Schooner), who wrote, “If Issue 3 of Sundog Lit were a place, it would be a city full of young visionaries kicking bricks until they bleed something beautiful.” 

Looking at Issues 3 and 7, a trend of steady improvement in quality becomes apparent. Over time, the magazine is getting better. 

Personally, I thought it would be nice if more experimental prose was included.  But that will likely come with time, as such writing is difficult and tends to go really bad instead of just bad.  At Sundog Lit, it is more important to be know what you are doing, and know that you are doing it well, before doing crazy somersaults. 

In Issue 7, poems by Anya Groner, Patrick Kindig, Lindsay Illich, Lindsay Wilson, Deanie Vallone, and Emily O’Neill are all structured as one couplet per stanza – that is, two lines per stanza – for the entire poem.  I couldn’t find an explanation for the dominance of this form in this issue.  There are poems with nontraditional line breaks and indentation (Jeremy Radin, Michael Cooper) and prose-poems (Michael Abraham), but, overall, it seems that the Poetry Editors erred on the side of caution for this issue.  

After reading these issues of the magazine, I’m still not sure what "scorched earth" means.  Perhaps it’s just branding?  Maybe it is a philosophy that someone on the Sundog Lit staff could speak at length about? 

To me, as a reader, it doesn’t really matter – the writing in Sundog Lit is just…good. 

If you are looking for an up-and-coming magazine to submit to, you would be wise to consider Sundog Lit. I urge you to take a look at this neat little online journal. If you do, you might just find yourself surprised at how much you enjoy yourself.   Don’t be surprised if you find yourself as excited as I am to see what they publish next.