Who Reads Lit Mags? We Do! Spotlight on Fruitslice, Electric Literature, ANMLY, f(r)iction, Moss, Five South, & Split Lip
"We all get to share what we’ve been reading in lit mags."
Welcome to our weekly column offering perspectives on lit mag publishing, with contributions from readers, writers and editors around the world.
Hi, all. Jessica here. It’s the first Thursday of the month, which means we all get to share what we’ve been reading in lit mags!
As always, I’ve been keeping a list of all works mentioned in this series, including works shared in the comments section, which you can find right here.
Although I usually have a theme for my findings, this month I’m all over the place. I was in the mood for poems, short stories, and sometimes it was all I could do to just stare at a piece of artwork and breathe. Sometimes I just wanted to shut the world off and dive into print magazines, and other times I wanted fantasy to help me forget everything. Sometimes I needed something invigorating to remind me of the beauty humanity has to offer, and other times I sought out writing that reinforced resistance, and strength in numbers.
The first lit mag I’m excited to talk about is Fruitslice, a queer-run quarterly publication that is a true feast for the eyes and a gift for the beaten-down soul. Every single page of each issue is a work of art, including the table of contents. I could talk about each issue, page by page, especially because each issue has happy little surprises like crossword puzzles and cat pictures, but the one I’d love to direct you to is “Oil Paintings of Mushrooms” by Donald Patten, featured in Fruitslice’s 5th issue, which came out January 7th of this year.
“The subject of these oil paintings are illustrative depictions of a mushroom that has a cute smiling face,” says Donald Patten. “I explore my identity by making art that expresses joy.” I was smitten by these adorable mushroom characters, but what really made me pause was this idea of exploring one’s identity through something that brings joy. Oftentimes, it feels like the opposite, or at least for me. Sometimes I can’t help but obsess over the things that give me intense feelings of sadness, as if my identity is more deeply rooted in what haunts me than in what makes me happy.
Patten’s mushrooms radiate an uncomplicated delight that feels almost foreign to me, but it’s a language I feel a longing to speak. What does it mean to define yourself through joy rather than sorrow? And is it possible to do that even now? The mushrooms give me a little hope.
The next lit mag on my list is Electric Literature. Even more than a lit mag, Electric Literature has always struck me as a castle of sorts—it feels like wandering into a giant fortress with art everywhere you look, even in the corners, and you end up getting lost just trying to find the bathroom.
They recently interviewed the creators of Chill Subs in November. I especially enjoyed the part of the interview where Co-Founder Benjamin Davis talks about his list “14 Top-Tier Magazines That Want To Watch You Crawl Out of a Rhino’s Butthole,” one of my favorite submission lists to date because it lessens the pressure (and therefore the urge to procrastinate) I always feel when I’m tackling the submission process.
There is so much content on Electric Literature, but I’m just going to concentrate on their lit mag publication, The Commuter. One poem that particularly stuck with me is “I Hope My Funeral’s A Fucking Mess” by Kaia Ball. This poem is such a winner. It’s one of those poems where you are laughing as you read it, but also biting your lip, worried that you are tempting fate by laughing at such a thing as Death, because it’s so evident that the narrator is so talented and sometimes life isn’t fair, and I almost didn’t want to know that the narrator wants to hear Bill Withers when they die, because now there it is: evidence of Death, but proof of life at the same time.
I also want to note the beauty of their bio: “Kaia Ball crafts fiction with a scientist’s attention, nonfiction with an artist’s panache, and poetry like a love story to life itself.” I know most of us were told to keep our bios boring and straightforward, but after reading this, I wonder if I should rethink that.
Another knockout story published in The Commuter is “Mrs. Morrison Proofreads Her Obituary” by Taisiya Kogan, a story with an incredibly inventive format. It’s a flash fiction story presented as an obituary about Mrs. Amelia Morrison with lines struck through, presumably by Mrs. Morrison herself. The reader can’t help wondering, when was this obituary written? Who has possession of it? Was it ever published in this altered state? I love how the original version and its revision stand side by side, revealing who Mrs. Morrison truly was versus who she was expected to be. The humor is sharp, especially in moments like the line, “Mrs. and Mr. Morrison worked hard to keep their romance alive,” where Mr. Morrison is crossed out. But the final line transforms this piece from a clever, darkly funny piece into something far more poignant, making Mrs. Morrison’s last words all the more powerful.
A lit mag that has captured my heart is ANMLY, which began as Anomalous Press in 2010. One thing that I greatly appreciate about ANMLY’s lit mag is that its website’s background color is a soothing, pale lavender, aiding in the reader’s enjoyment and welcoming multiple reads of each published work.
A piece I really want everyone to read, because I’d love to discuss it in finer detail, is Ching-In Chen’s “After So Many Days Fled From Scattering Mold.” Written in response to Houston’s 2016 Tax Day Flood and later Hurricane Harvey, this piece blends environmental catastrophe with personal and collective loss, evoking instability of home, time, and identity. The author writes that they used “the language of terrible Google translations of my dad’s Facebook statuses,” which provides the effect of a shifting narrative that resists easy interpretation, much like the chaos of floodwaters themselves.
Then there’s the lit mag F(r)iction, a print magazine that is such an enjoyable experience on a sensory level, in that the pages are glossy and smooth to the touch, and there is stunning artwork and color on almost every page. I picked up their Bodies issue from Winter 2023 and was excited to see that one of my favorite short story writers, Carmen Maria Machado, is featured in this issue. Also in this issue is Max Medeiros’ Pearl Growers. This fantastical story is about people who are born with pearls growing in their skin. The pearls make them valuable, which in turn makes them prisoners, essentially slaves to a duke who covets the pearls. The story is absorbing and terrifying, and felt like a moving picture in words.
Another print magazine I read was Moss, which I’m hesitant to include because it exclusively publishes Pacific Northwest writers, but the nonfiction piece “The Shirt” by Erica Berry is too good not to mention. Berry’s piece is about a linen shirt she wore on every first date after a breakup, but it’s so much more than that. She uses this one piece of clothing to examine a particular period in her life, circling back to when she bought it while with her ex-lover. It’s about the hope of starting a new relationship, but also of a past relationship gone wrong, and the baggage you carry when you start dating again, even when it appears as if you have nothing on your back but a light-weight shirt.
Five South is a lit mag I discovered from Becky’s post about those affected by the LA fires. I was incredibly moved by the editor Kristen Simental’s audio note that she recorded about the fires and how we could help. Many of you are probably familiar with Simental’s message, but her words about Five South bear repeating:
One of the things I love most about Five South…is that we’re a port in a storm. So, we started Five South in 2020 during the lockdowns of the pandemic because I felt like people needed a place to go where they weren’t dealing with the crap and the junk and the stress [and that] they needed a bright spot. They needed stable ground. And so Five South aims to be that stable ground for people. That’s what we’re here for. We want to be the place that you can go where things are nice, words are beautiful, and people give a shit about you.
Simental’s words hit home for me because they crystalize exactly what I’m looking for in a lit mag, especially amidst all the world’s chaos. After spending time reading Five South’s published pieces, I am floored by the incredible talent that this lit mag has to offer.
One piece that exemplifies Five South’s commitment to brilliant writing is “Night Elf Bildungsroman” by S.C. Svendsgaard, an essay about a girl who drops out of college and essentially drops out of life for a stretch to play World of Warcraft. I laughed out loud when she wrote, “Women do this too.”
I’ve never played World of Warcraft, but I’ve known a few boys (one of whom I lived with) who were obsessed. The author gives a firsthand account of her experience, of how she was able to leave her life behind and just exist through her Night Elf character. What makes Svendsgaard’s essay so compelling is her ability to write with striking openness and clarity about a difficult period in her life. She doesn’t shy away from raw honesty, offering readers an unfiltered view of her experience, allowing them to inhabit her world just as she once inhabited her Night Elf character.
Finally, one of my favorite pieces this month was “Inner Child” by Zoe Flavin, published by Split Lip. I love reading Split Lip, especially because each published piece comes with a fun GIF, turning every work into a mini celebration. Zoe Flavin’s story, “Inner Child,” made my head feel fuzzy as I was reading it, and I mean that in the best way. It’s a story that is surprising, creative, and creepy, and yet it also feels healing. And it contains one of the strangest sex scenes I’ve ever read, one that will stay with me for a long time. I want to say more, but I don’t want to spoil anything–so let me just say, this is a must-read.
I’d love to hear what you all have been reading in lit mags lately. Did you find yourself reading methodically, or did your reading life feel as chaotic as mine?
Like last time, please note that, while I look forward to reading our Lit Mag Brags each month and seeing what and where everyone has been published, I’d like this to be a resource for what we’re reading, not what we’ve written.
I can’t wait to see what everyone suggests.
Can’t say enough good things about f(r)iction! I have a piece coming out with them in March and they have been a JOY to work with - insightful, kind editorial feedback and a group chat for all contributors so we can stay up to date on the production schedule, artwork, and more! It’s been so fun and the whole experience has felt very special!
Thank you so much for reading and highlighting my piece, Jessica! I'm so grateful. Can't wait to check out the other pieces you recommended!!