New World Writing Quarterly

A spe­cial issue edit­ed by James Whorton, the Summer 2015 num­ber begins now. Please stay tuned. We will be post­ing this issue between July and October 2015.

Let’s hear it for Dylan Smeak!  Maron Tate! Paige Clark! Three new and splen­did pieces added to this Endless Spring issue of NWW.

Up today we have three new sto­ries–Emily Eckart, Anna Hagen, and Karen Wunsch. More to come.

Curated/edited by Jared Hegwood, the Spring num­ber starts now, includ­ing work from Andy Plattner, Alex Higley, Erin Armstrong, Nellie Aberdeen, Paul Luikart, P.J.Underwood, and Tracie Dawson, among oth­ers. Please stayed tuned.

We’ve expand­ed our hold­ings for the win­ter issue, adding new work by Andrew Rhodes, Ellis Purdie, Fortunato –more

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 –more

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 –more

We’ve added new things for the sum­mer issue. JoAnna Novak’s won­der­ful “Five Minutes with the Baby,” Zvezdana Rashkovich’s “How to Love a Man in Cairo,” and Richard Lange’s “Instinctive Drowning Response.”

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 –more

The Winter Issue fea­tures work by Bob Hicok, Gerald Fleming, Jennifer Pashley, Pia Ehrhardt, Jane Armstrong, Bobbie Ann Mason, Jeffrey Allen, Simeon Berry, Allan Rossi, and others.

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.”

–more

On February 16, 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.

Repurposing Your Big Box

Before you begin, you must divest your­self of sen­ti­men­tal mem­o­ries of your grand open­ing.  The park­ing lot was full, cars cir­cling, spilling out onto the sur­round­ing streets.  The cus­tomers wait­ed on the side­walk for hours, sprawled on fold­ing chairs, bun­dled in blan­kets, gulp­ing big gulps. They near­ly crushed one anoth­er when the doors first slid open. 

from Box City

1983, Houston, Texas. October­.  According to the Colonial Americans, this was the Hunter’s moon.  Trip found a big swath of vel­vet tucked away in Judy’s clos­et.  It was mid­night blue.  “This is what the guy meant when he sang about blue vel­vet,” Trip told Nora.   They cut stars from card­board and wrapped them in tin­foil, attach­ing them to the cloth, and sang By the Light of the Silvery Moon as he cut the cres­cent moon. 

Lake Resort

Almost fif­teen years ago, Lane bought a lake resort with her sis­ter, Elsa. It was a wild thing to do. It was the sort of thing you did when the world was blar­ing around you, when every­thing seemed too real and impos­si­ble any­way and dan­ger was famil­iar enough that you were tired of being afraid of it. Maybe some peo­ple would do drugs or cut off all their hair or go out danc­ing and bring home a stranger. Lane took out an enor­mous loan and bought a row of house­keep­ing cot­tages on 400 feet of lakeshore. 

Three Pieces

A Red, Red Rose

When you shiv­er in heels, there is always the chance that you will fall in a hur­ry. I would like to learn the trick to not turn­ing to con­fet­ti when dressed up. Until that time, which will no doubt be nev­er, I will stick with these extreme­ly unprovoca­tive crêpe-soled shoes designed to pre­vent roman­tic encoun­ters; they work, essen­tial­ly, like hel­mets for the entire body (and soul, what­ev­er that is). My moth­er did not avoid rock and roll, or heels, or the prac­tice of unfold­ing her body (and maybe even her soul) in a flash, even when she had young chil­dren, even when she had old children.