It’s hard to believe it’s already June. Of 2021. That’s, like, the future. Time has been flying by and we’re holding on by the seat of our pants. In the first year of ‘operations’ Coastal Shelf received almost 3000 submissions, most with multiple pieces. We started out with ostensibly a staff of one, ballooned up to ten for a very short period, and for a little while over the summer we’ll right back to just my lonesome, but there has been much, much work done in the interim. I can’t thank the readers enough for providing their eyes and insights to so many pieces. We wouldn’t have been able to get through nearly as much feedback without you so, a round of applause for the awesome Coastal Shelf Crew.
This June issue is quite the wild ride from start to finish by design, and I do hope at least a couple people take the whole issue in sequentially. I have a ‘read on’ link at the bottom of each piece to facilitate this end. The issue opens during Diwali, we travel to 1950s Imperial Beach to 1930s South Pacific, to 2000s era Pacific Northwest to a mostly parallel universe. We get prose poems, couplets, absurdist flash fiction, long prose, Charlie Chaplin, Amelia Earhart, Meth… what more could you want? Animated poetry! That’s what more. You didn’t even know you needed it in your life, just like I didn’t only like a month ago, but now I’m very excited to show the world our feature of ‘animated variants’ which land in that lovely place between poetry and art where the two thumb-wrestle and make cats cradles in a way that is both intriguing and wonderful to look at.
One thing that has been hanging over my head like a cartoon rain cloud as I go about my daily life has been the few remaining 2020 submissions. There are a couple dozen of you which we’d been holding onto for this past ‘final round’ of consideration and that time has been too long. It’s been hard to let go of some of those submissions that we liked, but weren’t sure if we were quite in love with—and given the very high volume of submissions, competition was extremely fierce. I have, I hope, found something of a solution to my guilt—more work! Over the next few weeks I’ll be doing my darnedest to clear out the 2020 submission backlog that we have. For most of these we have somewhat extensive notes that I have to organize, and for some we need to make our danged minds up. It will be done soon. And we’ll also send you a link to an ‘thank you for your patience’ submission portal that is private, only for PiF folks that we made wait. There will be no fee and we’ll respond within two months, however there won’t be feedback. We appreciate you.
And finally, we are having a no feedback ‘micro’ submission window coming up very soon. On June 20th for the Summer Solstice, and in honor of Coastal Shelf ostensibly turning 1 (and my personal birthday), we’re doing a 1-day submission window. Because we’re so backed up as I mentioned, this window will not include feedback, and be for just one piece of either flash prose (1000 words and under—hybrid pieces highly encouraged) or 1 poem (60 lines or under). There is no theme but I have a list of things I’d like to see: Something quirky/weird/surreal. Something witty. Something with an interesting title. Something that’s ‘love it or hate it’ (you’ve read the journal, we have eclectic tastes). I like the idea of getting an awesome piece of writing for our/my ‘birthday’ (I mean, we’re of course paying the regular $30). Set your calendar alert. Send us something funky and beautiful.
Thanks for tuning in, I’m sorry for keeping you so long. Go read that issue!
Zebulon Huset, Editor in Chief