by Jessica Dundas The label “Christian Fiction” tends to turn me off. I expect another cleaned up, simplified version of life, where they always get their miracle and every sunset reminds us that God is good. Cheesy clichés, sub-par writing. But that is not at all what Katherine James has given us in her novel … Continue reading Can You See Anything Now?
I've been blessed to work with a stable lineup of genre editors since I took over as editor-in-chief of Rock & Sling in 2010. We've changed our font more times than we've changed editors. Both Laurie Lamon (poetry) and Julie Riddle (nonfiction) have been on board as long as I have. For the next two … Continue reading Announcing a Guest Poetry Editor
by Margaret Rozga As a person who has long been active in social and racial justice movements, my goal as a poet is to create poetry written from a deep commitment to social justice issues. My books can serve as examples. 200 Nights and One Day is about the Milwaukee fair housing marches in which … Continue reading Vox II: Contributor Notes
In the same way, if I spend so much energy and effort trying to create music or art or poetry that is meaningful, or beautiful, shot-through with light, grace, insight, and love, how can that not spill over into working for these things in the larger world?
by Katherine Karr-Cornejo The phases of my life have offered many opportunities and challenges, and when I think of my years in graduate school, I remember a time of my life that I value, but that I’m also glad I’ve completed. The intense and all-encompassing focus on my professional training and development, to the exclusion … Continue reading Valuing Our Roots: A Reflection on Charlottesville
Eventually, life happens to everyone - it is the great equalizer. Someday, you might be in the position to not contribute anything.
Being a parent is hard. We never have it all figured out, even when we’ve done it well in the past.
Every time I prayed, a gentle, insistent sense arose in me – Do this…You can do this…I want you to do this – the same sense that had been prodding me during the past six months as my husband and I discussed fostering a child and researched the process, and I, initially resistant to the idea, had begun praying about it.
We are stripping our house layer by layer, occasionally stopping to wonder out loud if it feels like we’re trying to erase her and purify this space. Our mother is in every facet of the house; she picked the colors, sewed the curtains herself (one handed, no less), and embroidered half of the wall decorations.
When we reach out in words, where we’re safe, we prepare to cross a boundary with respect at our next opportunity. We prepare to offer the comfort we weren't able or brave enough to offer when our last chance arose.