Wordsmith Wednesday:

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This week’s Wordsmith Wednesday is a poem from Nayyirah Waheed’s collection salt.

It reads:

“remember,
you were a writer
before
you ever
put
pen to paper.
just because you were not writing
externally.
does not mean you were not writing
internally.”

It is often difficult to remind ourselves of this. We do not stop or start becoming a writer at any point just because we aren’t physically writing. Our minds are constantly writing novels of their own, coming up with stories, drafting scenarios, reiterating our feelings and thoughts, all internally. This is the most constant and unrestrictive form of writing. In this form we do not hold back, there is no one around to judge but us. We/society is the only one that holds us accountable to this arbitrary definition of a writer. We are always, constantly, writing, do not let the physicality that is placed behind writing hold you back from being/feeling productive as a writer. We all do it in different forms at different times in our lives. How is not what is important, it’s the fact that we do that is.

– KK

Nayyirah

Wordsmith Wednesday: Kendrick Lamar’s “Swimming Pools (Drank)”

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Our words this week come from the opening verse of Kendrick Lamar’s “Swimming Pools (Drank)” off his 2012 modern classic good kid, m.A.A.d. city.

The lyrics are:

“Now I done grew up ’round some people livin’ their life in bottles
Granddaddy had the golden flask, backstroke every day in Chicago
Some people like the way it feels, some people wanna kill their sorrows
Some people wanna fit in with the popular, that was my problem”

Choosing lines to highlight off this record was not easy. I could have shone a light on the pure storytelling of “The Art of Peer Pressure” or the fresh juxtapositions of parallel yet conflicting corrupting forces being explored in each verse on “Good Kid” or the masterful fourth-wall-breaking, character-constructing introspection and self-analysis on “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst.” Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City is a poetry collection, sparkling with wordplay, cemented in themes, and threaded with narrative. I chose these lines because they’re a beautiful example of Lamar’s ability to paint a rich picture and implant himself in it to navigate the details of that landscape. A celebration of indulgence on the surface, this song/poem unrolls to engage the social and psychological motivations for alcoholism, but that engagement rests on the foundation provided by this acknowledgement of Lamar’s understanding of the issue on a personal as well as a sociological level in these first lines. Wrapped up in a narrative of love / poverty / faith / violence / success / guilt, this song (especially the extended version) always resonates as an honest attempt to approach the causes and effects of alcoholism without being disconnected or self-righteous. It makes me think of myself, my family, and my future. It places both author and audience within narrative: at the bar, in the club, on the couch. It swirls and strikes. It weaves and breaths heavy. It’s K-Dot trying to connect the stray dots in permanent marker for you (and him) to learn from.

– NR

kendrick

Editor’s Note for Issue 5

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The following is the full Editor’s Note for Issue 5:

“When Nick and Kathy asked me if I would be interested in helping them edit another great issue of their magazine it was one of those wonderful opportunities that seem to come out of the blue, at exactly the right moment. A last second shot to force overtime. A bloop single to extend an inning.

In short, before this issue, I had been drifting from the literary sphere for quite some time. I was starting to get further from writing than I had been since before I decided to pursue a degree in Fiction six years prior, as a naive and hopeful college student. By the time I graduated college, my writing was well-practiced and a big part of who I was. I found my voice and compiled a manuscript. I edited the university literary journal. I won awards and got published. It was all coming up roses. But suddenly, after graduation, I was in the real world and everything–like every single thing–was more complicated. The routine and deadlines were gone. The feedback was harder to come by, and I struggled to put myself out there. The time to write was replaced by a full-time job. I got caught in a bad situation. And I got tired.

I had a few successes in the following years that kept the fire alive somewhat. For instance, appearing in this magazine’s debut, something I still am very proud of. And my podcast somehow managed six episodes of great content before calling it quits last July. I tried desperately to hold onto the show, but I found I couldn’t chew what I was biting off. All the while, I was kicking around on an idea for a novel, one that would never really take flight. It just turned into another thing I felt guilty about neglecting.

My passion for storytelling still seemed to be there somewhere. I’d get the itch every now and then, if a moment caught my eye. But the stories started getting buried by everything else. Work. Relationships. Financial obligations. The uncertainty of it all. I became jaded, distant, and felt like I had no answers. I started to doubt why I ever wrote in the first place.

That’s when Nick got ahold of me. I have always been a fan of Sobotka, but really I am a fan of these editors. I’ve followed their journey closely, and admire their dedication to their journal and their cause. Working on this issue and experiencing their persistence to fine-tune the content was exactly what I needed. I needed Kathy’s positivity and Nick’s encouragement. I needed to read again. I needed to write and revise this editor’s note twenty-seven times. I needed to do this. The writers and poets whose works appear in this journal should be commended for their dedication to the craft that is written word, for pursuing a duty in truth telling beyond the lens of common observer.

Because that is what writing is. It is persistence. It is revision. It is fine-tuning yourself and your reality. It can teach you discipline and show you compassion. It can grab you by the shirt collar and remind you that nothing is over until you pull it all together and finally say it’s finished.

So that is why this issue exists, and why people like Nick and Kathy make magazines.  For those of us who need the buzzer-beaters, for those who can deliver the shot. The writers and poets whose works appear in this issue have all persevered for the reader’s sake, toiling and trudging through drafts and rejections, throwing aside certain stories and poems that never seemed like they’d pan out, only to revisit them again and again until they were triumphant. They are champions of the page, and I am very happy to present the product of their labor in a physical medium that can exist in your hands.

I encourage you to acquaint yourself with the images, characters, and themes of this journal. And then I invite you to pass along what you’ve seen and what you’ve read. Share this book. Lend it to a friend. Ask for it back, and then lend it to another friend. Leave it on your coffee table, or in the back seat of your car. Tell people where to buy it, or where they can submit their own writing. Because literature is best described as a cycle. It is experience, followed by reflection, followed by expression. The cycle restarts when we come across the stories that inspire the reflecting that allows us to digest experience. It helps us laugh and cry, shudder and flex, and ultimately cope and grow. We have done our part as editors, to find these words and make them available. Now it is up to you to perpetuate the spirit of Sobotka. Now it is in your hands.

Grant Garland
Champaign, February 2017”

grant

Wordsmith Wednesday: Angela Carter’s “The Loves of Lady Purple”

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This week’s Wordsmith comes from the short story “The Loves of Lady Purple” from Angela Carter’s collection entitled Fireworks: Nine Profane Pieces. It reads:

“The puppeteer speculates in a no-man’s-limbo between the real and that which, although we know very well it is not, nevertheless seems to be real. He is the intermediary between us, his audience, the living, and they, the dolls, the undead, who cannot live at all and yet who mimic the living in every detail since, though they cannot speak or weep, still they project those signals of signification we instantly recognize as language.

The master of marionettes vitalizes inert stuff with the dynamics of his self. The sticks dance, make love, pretend to speak and, finally, personate death; yet, so many Lazaruses out of their graves they spring again in time for the next performance and no worms drip from their noses nor dust clogs their eyes. All complete, they once again offer their brief imitations of men and women with an exquisite precision which is all the more disturbing because we know it to be false; and so this art, if viewed theologically, may, perhaps, be subtly blasphemous.”

Acting as a preface to the story, these two paragraphs attempt to encapsulate the art of the puppeteer, detailing all the precision, care, and realism that must go into these marionettes. But if we go ahead and replace each puppeteer with author, and marionette with character, Carter gives us a beautiful and complex demonstration of what it means to be a writer who must create these characters from the two-dimensionality of pen and paper, moving thought to words. The impersonation of life and death and the whirlwind that happens in-between. This is what writers must make real, believable, and empathetic. This is what they must create anew with each story they write or each character they create. The struggles must be real. The death must make us cry. And the love must imitate that which we have felt before.

– KK

angela-carter

Issue 5 Guest Editor Announcement

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We here at Sobotka are excited to announce that Grant Garland will be joining us to help edit our fifth issue this winter. Grant is a graduate of the English Department at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, former editor of Montage, founder of literary podcast Middle Literate, and contributed to our first issue back in 2014. We’re proud to have him on board as our first guest editor and can’t wait to see what lands in our submission pile for Issue 5!

GrantBW

Submissions for Issue 5

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Submissions for Issue 5 are open until October 16th!

Send us your poetry, prose, and creative nonfiction!

Find full submission guidelines here!

Issue5SubmissionPoster