Dear reader,
Welcome to the very first issue of Off Season, a literary journal celebrating the rough patches of a creative life. When Susan and I first began to ideate this project about a year ago, I was firmly in my own rough patch as a writer, and not entirely convinced I would ever find my way out. In June of 2024, I completed my three-year MFA program, and upon graduation, my husband and I moved from Virginia back to my home country of Canada, far away from all of my friends and writing community. I know that people have a wide variety of experiences with MFAs (trust me, I've heard the horror stories), but I was extremely lucky. The writers in my cohort, as well as the cohorts that came before and after mine, remain some of my closest friends. These are the people whose publications I automatically post on my Instagram story, who send me their rejections and to whom I send my rejections via group chat, and whose reading recommendations I treat as gospel. I'm not great at change to begin with, but losing my routine as a graduate student as well as the in-person community and support system that had gotten me through those years was devastating. By November, I was desperate for a way to engage with that community again. I needed to get out of my "off season," and find the joy in my work again.
Fast forward one year, and so much has changed. While I continue to miss seeing my friends and fellow writers on campus every day, putting together this first issue of Off Season has been a fantastic excuse to reconnect with those same people, and to encounter new writers and voices for the first time. When we put out our call for submissions, I'll admit I didn't expect we would get that many. As a writer, I know I'm judicious about where I submit, and always want to ensure I trust a publication ahead of time. I was overwhelmed by how much trust the writing community put into us from the beginning. We received 85 submissions in our first round, and as a team of editors and readers, we selected the seven pieces in this issue with great care. When Greta Jarani not only agreed to let us use her painting "Sunday Crossword" as the cover, but also to have a conversation about her own creative journey, I knew that the issue was complete.
The words in these (digital) pages are a testament to the talent and perseverance of creatives at all stages of their careers, all of whom resonated with our core mission. In poetry, we have work from Penny Wei and Macks Cook, both of whom deal with grief in surprising ways. Meanwhile, in creative nonfiction, Nataliya Schetchikova shares how her childhood in Russia and her early years in the United States shaped her as a writer, while Amanda Meimei Peren writes a scene from childhood at the community pool. Finally, in fiction, Darlene Eliot offers you a ride down the California coast, Duncan Mwangi details one night in Nairobi, and Gareth Marks wonders what would happen if an angel crashed to earth in a canola field in Saskatchewan. I hope that you love these pieces as much as I do, and that you offer these writers a warm welcome into our community.
I want to thank everyone behind the scenes who made this first issue possible. To our readers: Rebekah Connell, Danny Coates-Finke, Bodie Fox, Katey Funderburgh, Maya Gudapati, Scott Hovdey, Emilie Knudsen, Elena Macdonald, Katy Mullins, Faith Palermo, Tori Reynolds, Taylor Schaefer, and Nicole Yansaah. Your careful attention to detail, thoughtful commentary, and lively conversations are the reason this issue is so special. I am so grateful to call you all friends and collaborators. Your words, both written and spoken, have inspired me endlessly. To Nicole Brate, our graphic designer, thank you for creating an Off Season brand that speaks so well to our mission, and reminds us to have fun with our work. It's rare to meet a kindred spirit via Zoom, but that is exactly what has happened, and I'm delighted. To Thomas Eckert, our web developer and husband of this literary journal, thank you for the hours (and hours, and hours) you have spent creating a digital space that feels just as bespoke as if it were a printed book. Without you, this journal, and I, would not have a true home.
Finally, my thanks to Susan Muth, executive editor of Off Season, and my co-conspirator in all things literary. Thank you for being the person who celebrates both my successes and failures, and who never lets me give up on my work. From our work on Phoebe, we both knew how much time and effort a journal takes, and I am so glad you didn't shut me down the moment I suggested we both do it again, this time without an advisor and for free. I'm excited to take this step with you and continue to make Off Season a supportive community for any creative who needs a respite from the rejection and self-doubt we all experience. Here's to many more issues of Off Season, and many, many more years of friendship.
And here's to you, dear reader, for clicking the link that brought you here. I hope you enjoy your time with us. In two days, we will re-open for submissions, and we would love to see your work. Just remember: You can only submit to Off Season if you have not received a literary journal acceptance in the last three months. We can't wait to read your work.
Happy reading,
Sophia Ross Eckert
Editor-in-Chief, Off Season