So THAT’S the Question.

I think we’re all agreed that another world isn’t just possible, it’s imperative. So what is that other world to be? That’s the main question, damn it. And there are flickers of light all over our world as people ask that question and try to answer it in their own, creative way.

That’s what we’re doing here. One more little flicker of light to add to the others, in hope that something catches and the entire landscape gets suddenly illuminated in a blaze of transformation.

So one question leads to another. We’re asking questions here in the quarterly magazine, and we’re inviting anyone who asks an imaginative question to join in.

Also, we’ve started a Facebook page, The Arcadia Project, where anyone can play with any kind of transformative idea. Or share an idea they’ve found somewhere else, from a light that maybe shines a little brighter than the ones surrounding it.

For example, Rose Jermusyk, who this issue shared “The Question and The Answer,” also contributed to the Facebook page an article from Medium, an important look at how visionary fishermen are changing our relationship to the sea.

It’s a story. It’s a real story, but I think it’s important that we all remember that real stories start with stories of the imagination. If it can’t be imagined, it can’t happen. And that is where we come in.

It’s never ‘just’ imagination. Imagination forms our reality; we forget that, we have forgotten that, to our immense cost. We have built ourselves a little over rational cage, and then bricked in the walls, and we wonder—where is the door? And where, once we find the door, is the Key?

We’re joining in searching for them both, because if there’s one thing everyone who ever joined in the EAP conversation believes, it’s that there’s a whole unexplored world out there, one where we can become something rich and strange.

In this issue, don’t miss my interview with social activist and poet Walidah Imarisha, about the function of visionary fiction in that process of Becoming.

As usual, Brian Griffith imagines a better world is possible—with animals, our partners on the planet.

Ellen Morris Prewitt wrestles with the question of Death and finds another kind of partner there, as well.

I do some wrestling on my own, about why Fantasy is truly important—being tired of hearing from so many unthinking people that ‘fantasy’ is so boring, so ‘not real life’. Fantasy is where our lives begin, and should we not be careful of that beginning?

Start fantasizing. And welcome back.

(PS: For you married cooks, if you want to read about how another world is actually possible, check out how my Dear Husband has, after 25 years, suddenly shown an interest in cooking mussels. You see—miracles do happen…)




Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off on So THAT’S the Question.

What’s the Question, Damn it.

When “EAP: The Magazine” first started up, I had this kind of selfish idea. The idea was the space would attract like minds…the kind of minds that worked a bit, well, differently. My idea was that real creativity happens on the margins, where people try out different ways of seeing and being, and it was those surprises I was on the look out for.

It was content I was looking for, not literary perfection, since my theory was that perfection too often conceals a lack of content, or, as we say around here, “The Perfect is the Enemy of the Good.” (And we mean it, too.) I was kind of right about that, although, to my surprise, not always: as it happened, a lot of content came my way, along with a good whacking lot of near perfection. From writers like Brian Griffith. Tim Myers. Charles S, Kraszewski. David Budbill. Margaret Hultz and Marie Davis. Marissa Bell Toffoli. Ronnie Pontiac. David D. Horowitz. Debbie Naples. And of course, always, Mike Madrid.

So that all worked, using the magazine for my own fiendish ends of making stimulating connections far and wide with people of like, if differently tilted, mind. And mining those thoughts (the more tilted the better) for those same fiendish ends. Selfish, like I said.

Meanwhile, it was bubbling up, the way these things do before they burst into sight, that there was something more (still thinking those selfish thoughts) that “EAP: The Magazine” could be useful for…some trick I was missing. I’ve been keeping that question mark in the back of my mind, checking in with it once in awhile, trying to see if it’s developed into anything more. Then Marissa Bell Toffoli sent in her contribution to this issue, “Turkish Coffee.” There it was in the poem: “What use the answer for the wrong question.” And I realized what I want to know now is just that: what are the questions we’re trying to answer in groping around in the fertile dark the way we do? What questions are grabbing us right now, taking us by surprise in that dark, at this point in time? We, and the world around us, are sure as hell groping for answers. But answers to what exactly?

That’s what I want to know now.

What question is it that you most want answered? If the fairy godmother appeared right now, or the magic nightingale, or the gnome, or the genie, or the demon, or even the god, what would be the one query that would leap passionately to your tongue, straight from your heart?

I repeat: that’s what I want to know now. That’s what I’m interested in most of all. So if you feel like indulging my selfish wish, or even if it goes to grant some selfish wish of your own, let “EAP: The Magazine” know what question most disturbs…or confounds…or enlightens…you.

Or even—best of all—all three at the same time.

Welcome back.

Posted in Todblog | Comments Off on What’s the Question, Damn it.

I Wonder.

I wonder where all this is heading.

When I started on the EAP journey, what I really wanted was to explore what effect story has on our world…what place stories inhabit in it, what they say about it, whether changing stories changes how we see it.

So I noticed a lot of possibilities were going, not just unnoticed or ignored, but literally unseen. I realized that story about possibility is the building block of our human world, that we are the story making animal in the same way that bees are the honey making animal…that we interact with reality to actually form it, in a kind of dance. And that we can only see what our stories tell us is there.

Of course, that means we can’t see what our stories tell us is not there. Worse, we can’t see beyond what they do tell us. No matter how vast the landscape on the other side.

So what happens when we tell stories about what might be there, on the other side of that borderland? Or even of what we would want to be there? Or what, looking backward at our dearest desires, what we might once have seen from a different view point…and then, with no stories to remember it by, to hold it, just up and forgot.

Those types of stories are usually sort of dissed as fairy tales. Wonder tales. Fantasy. Yeah. I never quite got what was supposed to be the ‘lowly’ thing about those kinds of stories. My own experience has been that when I reach a dead end of some kind—when the joy just leached out of my life and I didn’t know what direction to go in next—the solution was to look at the things I’d ignored, or even scornfully thought beneath me. Because just about every time, that was where I found my new energy to go on.

I suspect that’s true in the larger world as well. Probably when a living thing of any kind, a person or a culture, starts to grind in on itself and run down, where it pays it most to look is at the areas once ignored. Or thought of as ‘lowly’. Beneath notice. Because usually that’s where the green sprouts have grown without anyone paying much attention.

So I have the vague (as of yet) idea to propose a little experiment. I’m thinking of making a private space somewhere for the kinds of writers I’ve found in the last few years on this online magazine to play with those ideas about what might be, about what might have been, without us noticing. Ideas we might have scorned as ‘childish’ or ‘crazy’ or ‘just plain bad’. You’ll see a few of those ideas in this issue, as a matter of fact. (Ronnie Pontiac, I’m looking at you.) Ideas that we’ve rejected, or even just plain forgot. About what might become possible without us believing, up till now, it is possible. I’m thinking of emailing a few of you and asking if you’d like to play in that experiment. Maybe on “EAP: The Magazine.” Maybe somewhere else online. I’d like to hear other people’s thoughts on that.

Which is as far as I’ve gotten. This is my experiment in virtual thinking out loud. In imagining it’s possible to dream in a group.

Mind you, most sensible would be an inclusive, not an exclusive experiment, so anyone who wants to join in, just let me know. My point isn’t to exclude, it’s just to not bother those who aren’t interested in the idea of stretching these kinds of borders.

When I say ‘these kinds of borders’, I mean the borders of where the discourse presently stops. I’d especially like to see some definitions of where that boundary lies, and then I’d like to get in a conversation about how to cross over it into something different.

Mainly I’d like a conversation about it.

Does this all sound too odd? Well, I think it’s good if it does. If it sounds too odd to you, just ignore, please.

But if there is something in what I’m saying that interests you, do let me hear from you.

And we’ll see where we get to from there.

What would a world that met real human needs look like? That’s what I wonder.

So that’s what I’m calling #TheArcadiaProject.

And in the meantime, welcome back, whether this little experiment is for you or even if it’s not.




Posted in Todblog | Comments Off on I Wonder.

Wonder Stories.

I love what Maria Tatar, the Harvard professor of folklore and fairy tales, says about the latter: that they’re really misnamed. They should by right be called “Wonder Tales.” Because what they do is express our wonder at our inner landscape as humans, rather than our outer. Wonder Tales bring out to view what’s inside us all, which is (so it seems) an infinite amount of different ways of looking at ourselves and our world. But with some bedrock values that never change: the importance of partnering with Nature. The value of what appears to be worthless. The ability to change a life, or even a world, by taking action in the right way. The great reward of Love.

All those things. And all those things are filled with a sense of wonder, at wonder that we are here and living our own stories, which can be changed in ways we sometimes have yet to imagine.

There are a few Wonder Tales of this sort in the present issue. I’m not sure what I had in mind in naming it “This May Be The Last Time,” though I wasn’t imagining this would be the last issue…I had noted the many apocalyptic strains I keep seeing in stories that come to me, and pondering what that meant about how we’re seeing the world these days. Two stories in particular, by writers EAP always loves, were about this. As We Know It, by Erin Trampler Bell, is an active imagining of how our present world might dangerously come to an end through a well-meaning arrogance. Gulfs, by Tim Myers, murmurs how the story of our world would look to someone with a story from another.

Then there is One Wrong Step and You’ve Brought on the Last Days, by Ellen Morris Prewitt—the title says it all, I think.

And my favorite this month, from a new contributor to EAP, Psyche’s Sisters, by Ed Taylor. I’m always a sucker for pieces that take the old stories from a different point of view, and by doing that, point up the danger of a narrow reading of the world.

Wonder should expand, not narrow, especially in these days, don’t we think? Because, as Paul Simon so rightly sings, “These are the days of miracles and wonder/So don’t cry, baby, don’t cry, don’t cry.”

Okay then. I’ll look for more Wonder Tales in the FALL 2015: WE WONDER issue. Meanwhile, thanks to Robert Markland Smith this issue, for imagining Then Suddenly War Ended. And to Robin Suzanne for cooking up The Center of the Universe Omelet.

Welcome back.


Posted in Todblog | Comments Off on Wonder Stories.

Spring and the Devil.

VERY appropriately, this issue, ‘The Devil You Know’, was pelted with poetry. Inundated. A tsunami of images came over the virtual transom, and it’s a tribute to our poetry editor Marissa Bell Toffoli (see her poem this month, ‘Garden of Unease’) that she caught them gracefully in her poetic catchers mitt while in the midst of creating her own…and, by the way, giving birth to her first child. That’s what we call poetry in motion.

Read the poems. No, I mean really READ them. The variety and lushness (and, in poet David Budbill’s case, the precious sparseness) will catch you from behind and lift you into spring. We’ve always been enthusiastic fans of the work of Charles S. Kraswekski, but ‘Down in the Station’ takes us past fandom and into a new way of looking at a world caught in a tightening circle. David Selzer’s ‘Exterminate the Brutes’ grabbed us by the throat and shook us. (Liverpool EAPers especially, take note…his look at Churchill will doubtless jibe with your own.) And Kirsten Rian’s ‘Migration’ soars, even as it sorrows.

There’s so much more, too. Of course, the prose. Both the excerpt from ‘Tales of the Devil’s Wife’ by Carmen Lau, and ‘The Broken Vessels’ by Ronnie Pontiac, are examples of the kind of modern fairy tale that EAP believes helps to change a tired story. Keep an eye on both of those authors; we’ll do what we can to cheer them on, though neither of them probably needs any help to get aloft.

And don’t forget to have a look at Brian Griffith’s ‘War Horses’, an excerpt from his upcoming book “Animal Wars.” The Devil we know is pretty close. That’s true, and it’s not a bad thing to realize it. In fact, it might be the first step to turning the Devil into…well. You know.

Welcome back.

(Postscript: You may have noticed the next issue’s subject: ‘This May Be the Last Time’. Aside from it being the pendant to the winter ‘Firsts’ issue, it kind of points to the fact that I think this part of the EAP experiment is nearing its end. It’s been a wild ride, and a fruitful one, and a lot of amazing work and relationships have come out of it—too many to mention here—so now it’s time to see what all that means, and which one of the forking paths upward to take next.

Stay tuned.)

Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off on Spring and the Devil.


This issue of EAP: The Magazine features a memorial picture of Laika, the first dog sent into space, and we feel in solidarity with that dog, although a good deal luckier. We’re into celebrating Firsts, and fortunately for us, our reality is a bit more controllable than Laika’s was for him—i.e. no being shot into the atmosphere by people apparently sane, but secretly not: for who would be able to look a dog in the eye and send it off to a cold death who was fully in touch with their selves? If there’s one thing we believe in, it’s that there is no override switch for human feelings in favor of a Larger Good. There is no Larger Good, in our opinion, without the smaller, every day goods that happen to each living thing. And each unliving thing, too, come to think of it, though how you define the line that separates the two is beyond me.

So we here at EAP get to pick out our goals for ourselves, lucky us. Our booster engines having long dropped off and the course well charted straight ahead, we’re transiting into the next part of the journey. There are going to be a lot of firsts around here in 2015, and so many possibilities my head is spinning more than poor Laika’s was when he got launched around the world.

Unlike Laika, we can have a look at what we want to do and, even if our options are limited in an economic world increasingly bent on squeezing out the small provider of content, there are options. They do belong to us. And, as we always say around here: “You can do whatever you set out to do as long as you take reality into account.”

So. Taking reality into full account, we continue our experiment with the EAP publishing project this year, and expand its reach. The world of Arcadia, a world attempting to be made of everyday human good, has been more insistent, communicating with us ever more effectively, even frantically, since the days when it sent us that deceptively childish fairy tale, Snotty Saves the Day, and the YA story of Lily the Silent. Arcadian scientists have discovered a way to hand over more of their history…through a mirror. (I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before, probably because I don’t have enough time around here to look in mirrors much.) Coming soon: The Lizard Princess, a history of Sophia the Wise, the great queen of Arcadia, told by her, with a foreword by her granddaughter, Shanti Vale. After that, Aspern Grayling’s report on all aspects Arcadian, for the use of his imperial master’s security force, in Report to Megalopolis. There’s a whole world out there—actually, there are infinite worlds out there—but that’s the one that’s been given first to EAP to uncover.

(By the way, Mike Madrid fans should know Mike will be concentrating his considerable talents this year on illustrations for The History of Arcadia, making some history of his own in bringing pictures of that world to life.)

This year will also see our first experiment with bringing a book out in eFormat before paperback, and with plenty of interactivity as befits a book about gardening by a poet: Get a Rake, an alternative (and what an alternative!) look at growing, by Debbie Naples, with some of it excerpted most recently in the online magazine.

And we’re exploring a partnership with Beneath the Ink, a group that produces beautiful interactive eBooks. We’re pondering an edition of Alex Cox’s X Films complete with clips from his films, photographs from his archive, and other fair use materials sure to annoy the corporations that will claim we’re infringing their copyright, so alternative film buffs stay tuned for that.

In all of these adventures, we’ll be exploring our main universe: the universe of story, and how alternative story can and does change the world.

Poor Laika. He had to live by an old, old story. He was the first dog in space, and there’s a monument raised to him in Russia, and a postage stamp, and books written about him. He’s famous. He’s immortal. He’s dead. And I’ll bet you wouldn’t have traded places with him for anything.

I know I wouldn’t have.

Onward to a new year! Warm wishes to all who sail into her with hope and joy, and with control over their own choices and their own risks ahead.

Welcome back.1024px-Posta_Romana_-_1959_-_Laika_120_B




Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off on Firsts.

We Love Enthusiasm…& If They Tell You People Don’t Read, They Lie, They Lie.

Pablo Kjolseth, this issue’s BEER & MOVIES guest editor, and John Adams, the talent behind the photo that illustrates it (and he did that one with one hand tied behind his back, probably while also cooking dinner and drinking a beer), are two of the most passionate people I know—passionate about beer and movies, especially. Now, I drink wine, and you know, for all my years in indie film, I would much rather stay home and read a book than head out for a film (except for “Singing in the Rain”), and yet…the enthusiasm of these guys for these subjects is contagious…and I do love the contagion of enthusiasm that comes from the heart. So thanks, everyone who participated in their issue, and if you’re in Boulder, Colorado, check out the International Film Series, at Muenzinger Hall, on the CU Boulder campus, because there’s always something fascinating going on there. You’ll almost always see Pablo there, making sure everything is as it should be. And you’ll definitely see John, sitting front and center, first row, in his favorite seat. You might even see me, even it’s NOT “Singing in the Rain” night. Because Pablo is well aware of my tastes, and if he tells me I’m going to be enthralled by some film that he’s programmed, I know he’s always right. And he programs some enthralling films. Thanks for that, Pab.

Speaking of enthusiasm, and how much I love it wherever I find it, I do have to share a conversation I had while driving across the country from Oregon to Boulder. The dog and I like to stay at this one kind of down-home casino in Sparks, Nevada, right across from a vast manmade lake that features a dog park. It’s comfortable and inexpensive, two things anyone who reads the JAM TODAY books knows is halfway to my Holy Grail, and its many restaurants are nice and friendly. I like the coffee shop the best. It’s filled with lots of locals (especially viewed on one memorable Mother’s Day when I happened to be passing through), and everyone who works there is always in a good mood.

So this time, when I was paying my check, the cashier, a lovely young man of, I would judge, not more than twenty years, noticed I was carrying a book. Louis Armstrong’s memoirs, in fact, “Satchmo.” The cashier, whose nametag said he was “Adrian” said, “Is that a good book?” I said it was, we got into a conversation about it, because of course, being somewhere around twenty, Adrian had never heard of the great man.

Then I said, “Do you like to read?” He lit up and nodded. “What are you reading now?”

“Well,” he said, looking around to make sure there was no one behind me in line (and lucky for me there wasn’t). “I’m reading this book called ‘The Prince’ by a guy named Machiavelli. Ever heard of that?”

Oh yeah. Now I’m interested. “What do you think of it?”

“Man, I’m really into it. I was going to go to the library and get a copy out, but I started reading it on my phone, and I just can’t stop.”

“Do you like libraries?”

“Oh yeah! I go to ours all the time!”

I said, “Libraries forever, Adrian!” And we fist bumped. I walked out of there, well fed in all sorts of ways, and I thought you librarians especially should know that if they tell you there’s no enthusiasm among the young for those musty old books, they lie, they lie.

Happy autumn, All, and welcome back.

Posted in Todblog | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on We Love Enthusiasm…& If They Tell You People Don’t Read, They Lie, They Lie.

Stories, Delivered.

One of the great pleasures–and also one of the great pains–of being the editorial director of Exterminating Angel Press is getting to read the amazing work coming out of like minds everywhere…the pleasure is obvious, the pain comes from not being able to publish everything we love. The online magazine, of course, is great for that. We can support any books there, and give a little extra breeze for their sails as they head out onto that uncertain sea.

When they find port, no one is happier than us. And we like to spread the word. Books like Ken Womack’s novel Playing the Angel, and Ralph Dartford’s beautiful Cigarettes, Beer & Love among many others (but both of those I have a particular soft spot for, as who wouldn’t who read them?).

And then there’s Hannah, Delivered, by Elizabeth Jarrett Andrew. The story of a woman who delivers her true self in learning to deliver the children of others is not just a lovely, sometimes wrenching but always hopeful, tale, it looks at the world surrounding it and tilts the vision to a better one. That’s what EAP likes: tilting our everyday vision to a better one. Washing the windows of the culture, as it were. Making things a little clearer. What gets a little clearer in Hannah, Delivered is the importance of supporting every individual in their own autonomy, in their own birth. And it’s a great read. Have a look and see if I’m not right. See if you don’t love my favorite character: a man in a sarong who trains to be a midwife right along with the heroine. And why not? Why can’t men be as nurturing and caring as women? Why can’t we allow them that, in fiction as in all else?

No reason that I can see. Can you?

Meanwhile, in Jam Today Too: The Revolution Will Not Be Catered land, I’m still on the road with a book tour, and will be at the wonderful, tremendous, beautiful Gallery Bookshop, on the headland in Mendocino, California, meeting and greeting on Sunday, July 27, from 2 pm to 4 pm. Love those meetings and greetings with foodlovers of like mind…

Cheers, All.

Posted in Todblog | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on Stories, Delivered.

Three Cheers for Guest Editors.

I’m quite enthusiastic about this guest editorship thing we have going on EAP: The Magazine. For those of you who’ve come in late, when we did our Indiegogo funding push, one of the surprisingly popular perks was said editorship. This issue is our second, with one more to go, and both so far have been unmitigated pleasure for the host editor (ie me).

Aside from the fact that Ken Womack, and Kate and Mark Tallman, are all affable, curious, and highly literary, there was a small surprise hidden in each collaboration.

Backing up, let me mention again the rather odd way EAP works. We’re a trade publisher, distributed, both domestically and internationally, by the wonderful Consortium Book Sales ( But we don’t just take manuscripts over the virtual transom, as I seem to never tire of politely telling writers and agents of said manuscripts: we develop relationships. We’re looking for like-minded writers, people who are passionate about their subject, whatever that might be…and whose subject is some aspect of our main question: why is our cultural default setting the one it is? What would happen if it were different? What would happen if we stepped outside of the seemingly endless circle we are socially churning in, the one that says the free market is the only motor a culture can have, the one that says someone’s always got to be on the top and someone always on the bottom, the one that says someone’s always got to win and someone’s always got to lose. That kind of thing.

We develop these relationships on the online magazine. We’re not just looking for the Next Best Thing…in fact, we have a great distrust of the Next Best Anything. We’re looking for serious but joyful, hard-working but playful, thoughtful but exuberant, creative but practical kinds of people. The ones, as EAP’s incredibly joyful, hard-working, and practical Creative Director Mike Madrid describes this way: “If you ask them which of the Seven Dwarves they most relate to, they always say ‘Doc’.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised when all our guest editors turned out to be ‘Doc’.

And so, no surprise, we’re exploring book ideas with all of them. With Ken Womack, a book about The Beatles, and all the unsung people and events that went in to making them the phenomenon they were (Ken, this year’s Penn State Laureate, is an expert on this; look for him speaking about it at a university campus near you). With Mark Tallman, whose work focuses on international security and disaster management, a book about the limits of what we can achieve in security…and why finding and acting on those limits could possibly be—could they?— a matter for celebration rather than fear.

I can’t wait to see what the collaboration with Pablo Kjolseth brings. Pablo runs the International Film Series at the University of Colorado Boulder, so naturally his chosen theme is “Beer & Movies.” Knowing Pablo, and how he seems to pack 48 hours of work into 24 already, I doubt we’ll come up with a book idea between us. But I know for sure we’ll have fun. And, as I pointed out recently to a very interesting writer whose book we, alas, could not afford to publish, “None of us is making any money, so we might as well consider ourselves free.” And free to have fun is one of the most creative positions I know.

So there.

(And MEANWHILE, speaking of my having fun, my second cookbook/memoir, Jam Today Too: The Revolution Will Not Be Catered comes out in June, and I’ll be meandering around the west to different indie bookstores talking about food and sharing a glass of wine with interested parties. Our kick off is on publication day, Tuesday, June 10, at the wondrous Omnivore Books, in San Francisco, from 6:30 pm to 7:30 pm. Come by, say hi, have a glass, tell me what you’ve been eating lately. I really want to know.)

Posted in Todblog | Comments Off on Three Cheers for Guest Editors.

Happy Everything…and Thank You…

A very merry and happy everything to everyone from EAP. As you can see from Mike Madrid’s droll photo on EAP: The Magazine, we’re heading into it with a twist and shout. And with this idea: that in order to get anything done, you have to risk looking a little dumb, taking a pratfall, or even two. Have we all got that? Good.

Special thanks to everyone who contributed so much support (and supportive messages) during our Indiegogo campaign. We were almost overwhelmed. But not quite. We can take it. Feel free to send more.

One of our key supporters was Ken Womack, author, professor, and present day Penn State Laureate. Ken is guest editor of this LIBERTY & LYRICS issue, and I had a delightful time exchanging correspondence with him about it.  We both were particularly taken with Boff Whalley’s contribution, “Anger is Energy.” Since Boff is one of the founding members of the anarchist punk rock group Chumbawamba, as well as one of the most energetically fun people I’ve ever met (the whole group is like that, come to think of it), he REALLY knows whereof he speaks.

And EAP’s favorite writing partnership, Marie Davis & Margaret Hultz, four hands with but a single voice, also supported our Indiegogo push, and asked for, as their perk, a phone call with me to talk over what was in their refrigerator and what they could make out of it for dinner. Well, they were humoring me. They really should be telling me what to eat. As you can see by what we did come up with in “Jam Today: Kentucky Curry.” A version of the same recipe will be in the new Jam Today: The Revolution Will Not Be Catered, coming in June 2014 to all the usual bricks and mortar, virtual, and electronic book habitats, but especially to indie bookstores near you.

We’ve got two more guest editor issues coming up, Spring 2014 will be hosted by Kate Tallman and Mark Tallman, one a librarian and the other a political science professor, who recently were flooded out of their canyon home in the great Boulder flood of 2013. So it’s probably not a suprise that the theme they’ve chosen is “Disasters: Natural and Un.” We’ve already had quite a few great contributions on that theme, and I’m looking forward to seeing what comes next.

Then, the Fall 2014 issue will be guest editored by the ineffable, inestimable, incredible Pablo Kjolseth, who runs the International Film Series at CU Boulder practically single handedly. How he has time to interact with us, I’ll never know. He’s pondering his theme even as we speak, but last I heard, he was leaning toward one that showcases two of his favorite things: Beer and Movies. He is probably also trying to work Cats in there, but as of press time that’s still undecided.

Welcome back, and, it bears repeating: a safe, sane, creative, joyous 2014 to all reading this, and to all you love, too.

Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off on Happy Everything…and Thank You…