SATCD: Year One

Shake Away These Constant Days by Ryan Werner

Those with a keen eye on the calendar will note this week marked the one-year anniversary of our releasing Ryan Werner’s debut collection, Shake Away These Constant Days. Helping get that book published was one of my favorite things I’ve done during my editorial reign. If I could change one thing though, I’d somehow magically (but legally) give it more reviews over on Amazon. While it’s fared better over at Good Reads, SATCD only has two reviews on the old titan of Internet commerce. So, if you enjoyed the book and want to consider this a shameless plea to tell others about it, you wouldn’t be wrong.

Apparently inspired by the billions we’ve made in the indie lit game, Ryan also started his own micropress in 2013, Passenger Side Books. He’s published three chap books so far: Murmuration, a collection of five interrelated stories that we’re guessing includes this; Whatever Doesn’t Drown Will Always Rise by Justin Daugherty; and Infinity’s Jukebox by Matthew Burnside, who just happened to pen this little nugget of wonderful for us last year.

And since I seem to be shamelessly plugging work by writers I like, I’d also remind everyone that Graham Tugwell’s collectionette, Everything Is Always Wrong, is well worth picking up. Also, our founding editor, Eirik Gumeny, has a new chap book out from Red Bird that you should definitely check out and while you’re at it grab a copy of Ally Malinenko’s Lizzy Speare and the Cursed Tomb if you’re looking for a great YA fix.

Collect ’em all.

Free Equinox Included!

So here it is, the September 2013 Issue, my penultimate as editor.

Which is interesting, because if there’s a theme to this month’s issue it is decidedly not “next to last,” but rather “firsts.”

First time having sex with General Lee? We’ve got that.

First time stealing a statue of Jesus that actually isn’t Jesus? Yes, yes, we have that too.

First time walking around your new sandcastle? Uh-huh.

First time hitch-hiking? You betcha’.

And first time trying to have your first time at Disneyland…of course, we’ve got that. Who else would?

(Also, because we’re JDP and are statutorily required to print a certain number of stories about the apocalypse, we also have a lovely piece of flash about the world ending, which admittedly bucks the whole “firsts” theme.)

And there you have it. Issue 46 is simultaneously a collection of firsts and my penultimate. Enjoy.

Treat her right, kid. You only get one and sometimes not for that long.

When I was five, my mom bought me the coolest Six Million Dollar Man costume for Halloween. Also, I’m going to miss her every day for the rest of my life. There’s a whole lot more to be said about my mom and her life than that, but, right now, that’s all I can manage.

When you lose someone you love deeply – especially after a prolonged illness – there’s honestly a sense of relief. It’s over. They’re out of pain. Then there are a zillion details immediately thrown at you, many of which border on the absurd. (You need a hard copy of the death certificate to cancel the Sears Card she hasn’t used since 1996? Seriously?)

When all that’s over, after two or three weeks, that’s when things hit you: the loss, the true sadness, and, above all else, the permanence. I’m never going to talk to my mom again.

Taking care of my mom these last few years was the best thing I ever did. And editing JDP was always a useful way to get through some of the tougher aspects of it. Angry at God, the Universe, or whomever for what Mom’s going through? Make yourself feel better by writing an f-bomb laden Godzilla post. Or just feel good because there are people out there who send you great stories, stories that a lot of other indie lit mags just simply don’t get.

My Mom’s at rest now and it’s time for me to move on. When I took this gig, I compared editing JDP to being Doctor Who. You don’t replace your predecessor so much as you put your own spin on the pillar of bizarreness that this place represents. In short, whether you wear a bow-tie or a scarf, the basic mission of the magazine stays the same.

Our new editor will start with the November Issue and, unlike the BBC, JDP has no qualms about regenerating across gender lines. (I mean, no offense to the excellent Peter Capaldi, but how f’n cool would Helen Mirren have been as the Doctor?) We’ll make an official announcement toward the end of the month, but if you enjoyed the Poetry Issue, you have a pretty good idea who it’s going to be. Trust us, you’ll be in good hands.

And I’ll still be around for the next month or so through our October Issue. I’m afraid, though, I must apologize to the writers who have stories in the September Issue. It won’t be out this Wednesday as planned. We should have a firm date soon, but it will probably be pushed back a week or two.

The last thing I want to say is this. Usually, when someone writes a post like this, people want to express condolences on this site, or on Facebook, or wherever. That’s really not necessary. I tend to believe JDP readers are inherently cool and I know your thoughts are with me. My mom was old and succumbed to a combination of cardiac conditions. They got to her earlier than most of her contemporaries, but there wasn’t anything extraordinary about the cause of her death. What is extraordinary is getting something like Cystic Fibrosis when you’re three and staring at the possibility of a double lung transplant when you’re in your thirties.

So, if you want to honor my Mom or express your sympathies to me, please consider a donation to Eirik Gumeny’s COTA fund. The universe needs places like JDP and people like him.

Thanks for letting me ramble here, lo these past two years. Take care of yourselves.