504 words

Dear Reader,

I’ve been thinking a lot about the myth of the genius—that monumental achievements come from monumental minds. Picture him at his typewriter, clacking out the great American novel. See him there with hands reaching skyward, leading humankind to its rightful place among the stars. My eyes, at this point, roll so hard I fear I may get whiplash. But this image is all-pervading in Western heteropatriarchal epistemologies—the iconoclast, the visionary, the pioneer, almost always White and male. He is the one who sees farther and thus must always take the lead.

My hot take is that (surprise surprise) the figure of the genius is a colonial one. He is framed as a maverick, the non-conformist breaking free and standing apart. He strikes out into intellectual terra nullius, where he relies on no one but himself to tame...


Table of Contents

Fiction

Like Water by E.M. Linden

The Singers by Sydney Sackett

Between Tides and Bones by Carol Scheina

Crown Shyness by C.M. Fields

The Forest, the Sea, & Those Caught Between by C.G. Aubrey

Proliferation by J.A. Bryson

Poetry

Sestina for My Summer Situationship with the Lake Michigan Lake Monster by Sarah Chin

Please stop asking how I'm doing by Mahaila Smith

Acceptable Reasons for Embracing Your Incubus by Lesley Hart Gunn

Non-Fiction