Three Things You Should Know Before You Publish Your Book by Lauren Sapala

Photo of one star shaped balloon
 

I’ve published five books (three nonfiction and two fiction) and there’s so much I wish I would have known before publishing, that I now know through the long, hard road of experience. Whether you’re going the traditional publishing route, or you’re choosing to self-publish, there’s definitely a learning curve to becoming a new published author. My hope is that I can save you the headache of figuring it all out on your own so that the whole process goes a bit easier for you. Everything Takes Longer (Sometimes Much, Much Longer) Than You Think It … Continue reading Three Things You Should Know Before You Publish Your Book by Lauren Sapala

Hugging the Tree by Zeina Azzam

Photo looking up at tree
 

“Social distancing during Covid means no hugs.” —NBC News It was neither part of a protest nor a statement to the world. I simply put my arms around a tall oak and stood in embrace, our bodies juxtaposed. There was no swaying: her trunk, solid and true, felt like an ancestor, a pillar thick with years. Her bark scratched my skin if I moved, so I stayed still. It was a time to be calm and reflect on our presence together. To look up to the sky and fathom the height of my partner. To … Continue reading Hugging the Tree by Zeina Azzam

Like Savion by Bess Wiley

Photo of person on beach
 

He’s in one of my rooms. I pay attention to it now, because his window is closest to the nurses’ station and faces the automatic doors I push my cleaning cart through. I see him as soon as the doors breathe open and the negative pressure ruffles the gown’s paper against my clothes. Everything’s faster in here, no time to catch up on anything or anyone, other than the dying. I stay out of everybody’s way and clean wherever they aren’t. When I peek in his room, the machines and tubes are still at it, … Continue reading Like Savion by Bess Wiley

Valium Dream by J. Thomas Brown

Photo with bright, squiggly lights
 

Our house, built in 1738, stood in the middle of twenty acres of corn field. The hand-fitted Pennsylvania blue-gray fieldstone walls were two feet thick. George Washington used it as an infirmary for his troops during the Revolutionary War and their blood stains remain in the wide plank floors today. The walls were not thick enough to keep out the world’s contumely. The airwaves carried in news of the assassination of Dr. King, American war crimes in Vietnam, and the violent 1968 Democratic National Convention protests, and no mention of the Valium (diazepam) epidemic. Yet … Continue reading Valium Dream by J. Thomas Brown

Honest Wedding Vows for Real Marriages by John Pavlovitz

Photo of couple standing by lighthouse
 

  I’ve had the honor of officiating many weddings over the past two decades. They’ve all been beautiful in their way, but more often than not the vows exchanged have been—naive, to say the least. I know mine were. That’s because for most couples these usually aren’t really marriage vows, they’re wedding vows: tidy little phrases designed for a filtered photo album ceremony—not for the messy, meandering, disorienting experience that is sharing life alongside another person. Based on twenty-five years of marriage and on my time counseling couples before, during, and far too often following their marriages—these are some … Continue reading Honest Wedding Vows for Real Marriages by John Pavlovitz

Sunday Drive by Charles Springer

pale green field
 

Sam tells his wife and kids that when next Sunday rolls around, they’ll take that drive he’s been promising across the scenic Midwest. No feat to be sneezed at since they live in New Jersey. Sam figures Iowa and Nebraska should only take half the morning. The remainder will go by in a flash so be ready with those cameras! Sunday finally rolls around and in between Bird-in-Hand and Paradise, they stop for gas and for Jilly, Sam’s wife, some pork rinds. Jilly points with a greasy finger at a cornfield in the distance not … Continue reading Sunday Drive by Charles Springer

Invitation: R. S. V. P. by Fred Wilbur

Photo of leaves on ground
 

  Submissions for the annual Streetlight Magazine Poetry Award are open and I want to encourage participation from everyone, those new to our magazine as well as regular readers. The closing date for this year is 29 November, just a few weeks away. The rewards are recognition by the posting of the winning entries in our magazine and print anthology, and monetary prizes of $125, $75, and $50. In past blogs, I have advised writers, especially poets, to be realistic in their desire for recognition, but I want to promote here our poet-friendly process for … Continue reading Invitation: R. S. V. P. by Fred Wilbur

Maan Singh Gabbar by Reeya Banerjee

Photo of sunset
 

    It was about 2:45 a.m., and Sherin George sat miserably on a ratty sofa in a cabin in rural Uttarakhand State in North India. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, but she forced herself to stay awake. She was waiting for a knock on the door. She was hoping to hear it soon. It would be much easier to proceed with the plan if it happened before her boyfriend came home. Earlier that night, around 9 p.m., Richie had left, after whining petulantly for a half … Continue reading Maan Singh Gabbar by Reeya Banerjee

Looking Ahead by Julia Chiapella

view of city from high rooftop
 

On the last day of the world the children laugh. How can they know? They pick up stones, pockmarked, flat, dap them through rising waters, their voices littered with glee. On the last day of the world no one cries. The neighbor pulls out her cello, plays Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor from the rooftop until the dark pulls its covers over the strings. We look out the window. Count to ten. Forget what ten means. The month of May. How to read a clock. Wouldn’t you want it like this? Oblivion nothing but sweetness … Continue reading Looking Ahead by Julia Chiapella

We Need to Talk by Erika Raskin

Photo of snarling black dog
 

  People have lost their minds. Seriously. They’re comparing masks to yellow stars and saying vaccine passports are signs of tyranny, refusing to comply as a sign of resistance. Please. My dog has to produce a vaccine passport before getting his anal glands expressed. Asking for evidence that he’s up-to-date on his boosters is hardly symptomatic of a dictatorship. It’s proof that as citizens we care that the groomer is not exposed to rabies if bitten while performing an unenviable task. Our fellow citizens are being manipulated into believing that Democrats are manufacturing a pandemic, … Continue reading We Need to Talk by Erika Raskin

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