on publication in Pear Noir! pt. 2

Take heart! Or prepare for this publication to carry yours away to some lovely cloud galaxy, precipitating drop after drop of beautifully ripe language.

I believe in kindred spirits, but I didn’t realize that idea extended from human to literary magazine.  It makes sense.  These are human stories we’re dealing with– emotions, characters, hopes, dreams, disappointments, all the elements that fasten us to one another.  Most every story and poem in issue six of Pear Noir! touched me on a soul level.  It could be that when affording a print publication, versus one that exists only online, the bar of quality raises.  Stories, I imagine, must pass stricter surveillance.  These are tangible archives, after all–unaltered evidence of what you put out into the world.  As the editor, Daniel Beercase, says, “imagine a scholar from some future (or alien) civilization poring over an ancient copy of Pear Noir!, perhaps the one in your very hands, fascinated by these twenty-six symbols that we take for granted?”  So, why not make it anything short of enchanting? 🙂

I’ll share some of my favorite passages:

“Thinking of Faust carried to heaven by a chorus of angels, I looked out at the bone-white sky and imagined the old man sitting by the Mediterranean, seagulls scooping sardines, oysters surrendering openly in love with the moon. For me, the anchor line was cut, and my sails bulged over a blue infinity of verses and refrain. I had found a new ocean. I am drawing from it now.” Robert Morris, “Neruda in the Library.”

‎”Paz is as tall as the tallest organ pipe. She slouches as she eats/ the earth, she walks and eats herself into the black, and she is/ the thirst of beggars, and she says, Don’t you ever stop screaming until/ someone says they love you. The trick is, You must say it first.” – Lisa Marie Basile, “What Paz Took.”

“Yesterday, when I / considered my sickness, I saw my parents, naked in the baking /heat, kissing and whispering.  I was worried where my sickness/ was leading me, and turned my attention to a distant town, to its golden clock, its white stone villas, its/ boulevards crowded with/ angels shielding their eyes from the sun.” Mark Strand, “On the Hidden Beauty of Our Sickness.” 

“But the worst thing that could happen is/ you could be stuck behind a couple making out/ on an airplane. / and you’ll feel like a load of laundry / that gets washed but still smells weird / and you’ll feel like the moon shining bright / but no one is looking / and you’ll feel like an incredibly beautiful woman / at the bottom of the ocean.” – Kathryn Regina, “——.”

“People do not drift, Binary Man would say.  They are together or/ apart, dead or alive.” –N. God Savage, “Binary Man.”

One that hits a little too close to home:

“I thought if I put enough miles between us, I could avoid anyone.  Change my address, my job, number: I was good at being gone.  Or at least I was until I saw Justin again.” – Melanie Unruh, “Souvenirs.” 

Seeing the existential through the ordinary is all well and good but sometimes you just need to cross the room without your soul hanging out like your shirt tail.” -Kathleen Heil, “think of the last bad novel you read read this you think of this.”  

Copies are still available.  All my love to every writer in this issue, as well as Daniel, for being one of the most considerate and compassionate editors I’ve encountered!

Xoxo, always.


About polishedpearcreative

Hey, there! Thanks for reading my blog, Polished Pear Creative Editing. My name is Amanda (Kimmerly) McMullen, and I devote my time and talent to making manuscripts publisher-ready. If you have an unedited book, or have started one of any genre, please connect! www.polishedpearcreative.com. Cheers!
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1 Response to on publication in Pear Noir! pt. 2

  1. Thanks, Amanda! You rock. I look forward to reading a bunch of your stuff as well!

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