Announcing Our 2012 1/2K Prize Winner and Runners-Up!

Image: Shane Gorski

 

2012 Indiana Review  ½ K Winner

“Michigan Central Station Has Been Closed Since 1988”

Lindsay Tigue

Ames, IA

 

Runners-Up

“Lies”

Jenny Halper

Brooklyn, NY

“Co-lo-ny Col-lapse Dis-or-der”

Megan Moriarty

Staten Island, NY

 

When asked to say a few words of the winning piece, contest judge Michael Martone writes:

I love trains, and I also adore ruins. I admire this piece for its content of irresistible decay and how its form replicates the unstoppable rot. This is a story that consumes itself, composts as it confounds. It is rich with stuff, with detail, with nominative junk. It names names, chock-a-block, only to have it all melt and fade away. There is no better drama in such a condensed and pressured space. To have a lump of coal transformed into diamond and then, beyond that rock, into the elemental idea of crystalline and holy loss.

“Michigan Central Station Has Been Closed Since 1988” will appear in Indiana Review 34.2, due out this winter. You can order a single issue or a year’s subscription here.

A huge congratulations to our winner and runners-up, and many thanks to all who helped make our 2012 1/2K Prize Contest a success!

Sizzling Summer Reads

As the Great Heat Wave of 2012 finally breaks, I find myself able to leave my apartment for the first time in weeks. True, I still sweat when I touch the doorknob, but I can finally stand to leave my perpetually-73-degree apartment (begrudgingly). While avoiding the heat, sun, and everything to do with outside in general, I found myself with a lot of free time and in my recent stint of hermitism, I stumbled onto a book that tried to set my heart on fire.

The Fire King

Marjorie Liu

The Fire King

The Fire King is a paranormal romance novel about the blossoming love between Karr, a shapeshifting warlord from the past, and Soria, a one-armed woman.

The plot follows Karr’s return to life and all of the craziness that usually ensues after unearthing a half-man half-dragon/lion. Soria and Karr find themselves linked together by things that they don’t understand, but what we already know as love. Read more…

Music by the Month

On iTunes, my Top 25 Most Played playlist serves as a melodic trip down memory lane. Each song reminds me of a specific place and feeling, and most importantly, a variety of well-loved people.  What better way to preserve these musically-charged memories than to write about them? It can feel daunting to write every day, so let’s make it more manageable.  Music helps to reflect, and I have compiled a list of songs to play before writing each month. I hope that you, too, are inspired to listen, reflect, and write.

 

August

“The Swimming Song,” by Loudon Wainwright III

When summer winds down, it often arbitrarily ends other things as well—jobs, romances, tans (except for those of us who only burn)… What will you miss most about summer? Read more…

Submissions are opening soon!

Summer is the saddest of seasons. Iced coffee is more expensive than hot coffee. Sweat is gross. There aren’t really beaches in Indiana. Locusts. And I don’t have anywhere to send my poems!

So we figured if we opened on August 1 instead of the industry-standard September 1, we’d have your submitting attention all to ourselves for a little bit. Which is perfect because we like attention.

Things to know: We’re going to open the submission manager at 12:01 am on Wednesday, August 1. That’s EST, so don’t be sad if you can’t get in before then.

As always, please be sure to familiarize yourself with our submission guidelines before submitting, and remember to include a cover letter. We like getting to know you. They should be addressed to either Joe Hiland (fiction), Michael Mlekoday (poetry), or Justin Wolfe (nonfiction). Feel free to tell a joke. If you’re funny.

And if you have any questions, please direct them to inreview (at) indiana (dot) edu.

My Wife Has a Cow, But Do You?

 

Indiana appears to be turning slowly into a desert.  Hester Prynne was getting too hot in her Puritan apparel, so we decided to give our lamp friend another wardrobe change.  We evoked an ancient symbol of fertility in the hopes that the weather gods would notice our plea for some more fertile weather.  And in the immortal words of Gertrude Stein, “Nearly all of it to be as a wife has a cow.”   Indeed, what is to become of our fair magazine if no wives have cows, literary or otherwise?  Without cows, where is growth, where are archetype and metaphor?  This could easily become a world in which every intellectual (and physical) plant withers without the nourishing rains of creativity, of literary integrity.  In this period of drought, we must strive to birth our own creative cows, rather than waiting for new ideas to rain down from the heavens.  So, “As preparation prepare, to prepare, as to preparation and to prepare. Out there.” (Stein, “As a Wife Has a Cow, a Love Story”).  Prepare, prepare for that dry world out there.  Remember our cow, and may she guide you to a place of mental fecundity.