Published today. And more to come.
We have begun to assemble the Winter 2015 issue under the watchful eye of Associate Editor Elizabeth Wagner. We will be reading and adding work for this issue through March 2015, so please keep us in mind for your submissions. Click here to view the work in progress.
We’ve expanded the fall issue and will continue adding material through December 2014. The issue is selected and edited by Pia Ehrhardt, author of Famous Fathers (MacAdam/Cage, 2007). Her work has also appeared in Narrative Magazine, McSweeney’s and The Mississippi Review, and she was previously a Guest Editor at Guernica Magazine.
A gallery of images by the French illustrator Chloe Poizat.
Click Summer 2014 or use the main menu. Note that we continue to read new material for the issue–fiction, poetry, nonfiction, anything else, whatever you have, short or long, so long as charming and brilliant–and we invite/encourage submissions.
A wonderfully short essay on the history of very short fiction. Must reading for all. Ed.
I like Jane Ciabattari’s piece, “The World Wide Web at 25: Changing Literature Forever.” It’s fun and informative—but she does make the mistake that so many people these days do, understandably. She assumes the Internet has caused the short story form to grow ever shorter with a flood of micro and flash fiction. It’s much truer to say the Internet has reflected the trend.
The Fall 2013 issue of NWW is up with new work from Andy Plattner, Eric Pankey, Joe David Bellamy, Rose Hunter, Alfred Corn, Richard Mirabella. All that plus Quincy Lehr’s wonderfully abundant poem, “The Dark Lord of the Tiki Bar.”
Notes From Buffalo, August 9, 2013
On March 7, 1965, the Sheriff of Dallas County, Alabama threw one of the most famous punches in American history, on the steps of the courthouse in Selma. The man that Sheriff Jim Clark punched in the face, C.T.Vivian, was named yesterday as a recipient of the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
Notes on Don Quixote, Volume One
This morning a small possum was rescued by my wife from a swimming pool. He was a sad, wet, cold-looking creature with large, glossy eyes that were solid black. Who knows how he had wound up in the pool, but my wife discovered him on the top rung of the ladder, waiting I guess for someone to come and offer him a way out, which my wife did, using a net on a long pole, and then she helped him onto a tree branch, which he stepped onto unsteadily, clinging with his long toes, and then he looked all around himself in a stunned way, and then he walked further into the tree where we couldn’t see him anymore. Continue reading →