Author: Editor

Editor’s Note

You would think that being the editor of a lit mag dedicated to the subject of grief, I would be an expert on it. That I would understand its lasting effects; realize it is not something that simply goes away…

Call for Submissions

A huge thank you to everyone who donated to the Kickstarter to make the next edition of Grief: A Life in 5 Stages possible! We are looking for YOUR stories, artwork, photography, poetry, essays, etc about any of the 5…

Camp Kesem

Camp Kesem is a free, student-run overnight summer camp and year-round community for children whose parents have or had cancer. This series of monologues is based on interviews with fourteen of our campers. Camp Kesem raises enough money each year to keep our program free for our families. Learn more about the cause at http://campkesem.org/stanford or make a donation.

Volume One Cover

This photo is from a series taken by Bill VanBlarcom (1923-2002) in the early 1960s when he was visiting my grandfather in the VA hospital. Many of the residents there at the time had served in WWI and were going…

Hope; Faith.

On February 2nd, I stood on the front porch of my childhood home when my dad said that we had received the worst news possible. I laughed. Being told that the surgeon who opened up my 56-year-old mother had deemed…

Missing

five then four an arm waves its goodbye could have been on the walk or on the train falling not graceful like a leaf quickly dropping all over in a matter of seconds an arm hangs limp exposed useless as…

Acceptance

When I was in middle school, I would daydream in class. My notebooks were filled with games of MASH and future children’s names—children I’d obviously have with Joseph Gordon-Levitt or my best friend, Ryan. I’d have these children after college,…

Acceptance

Once, before I knew you (which seems impossible now), I dealt with the sting of unrequited affection by buying a dozen dollar store wine glasses with my roommate for the express purpose of smashing my share on the brick walkway…

Plug-Hole

— Richard Gibney — It was on a Tuesday just after noon that my mother last went to see the GP in the shopping centre. At about ten past twelve, she ascended the two floors from her job in the…