New Teachers, Classes, Students, Routines – New Look?
I’ll go with New Beginnings.
I say that what’s old is new again because, as a natural redhead, I’ve been dyeing my hair blonde off-and-on since I turned 18.
And…uh…so, that’s been a long time. A friend from high school commented on my “new” color saying, “Oh my God! This is how I remember you!”
The truth is that I went to dye my hair blonde, like I’ve been doing every six weeks, for two years now, with the SAME HAIR DYE I’ve always used – except they changed up their formula.
After the timer went off and I sauntered back into my bathroom, I looked in the mirror and screamed. I expected light blonde – Instead, I was greeted by bright neon yellow hair with bright neon orange and pink stripes.
So, I did what any normal person would do.
I PANICKED! I FREAKED THE HELL OUT!
I scrambled around my bathroom, emptying every cabinet, looking for a hair dye that was darker than what I’d just put on my head for a stupid forty minutes. I found an “Old Faithful” that I used to use back in high school when my hair got to looking dull in the winter months – L’Oreal’s Reddish Blonde. I crossed my fingers and said, “I don’t care if this turns out purple. It’s better than this disaster.”
I’ve had a rough few weeks, as most of you know, but what you may not be aware of is the fact that the Sick Lit Magazine staff has changed once again – it’s back to being a staff of two, myself and Melissa.
The bottom line is that we value, treasure and cherish our contributors. Our regular contributors are the pillars of this publication – and I cannot corroborate hypocrisy when someone is representing SLM. They may have a different editorial eye or style / aesthetic standards than Melissa or me, but they signed up to be on THIS team. They signed up to be a part of THIS literary magazine. And this literary magazine comes with a culture, a kinship, and an extraordinarily supportive team of writers who come together every month and make this thing happen.
Someone once approached me about SLM and called us “the literary equivalent of the island of misfit toys.”
My reply? “I’m glad that you woke up today with us on your mind. We must have struck a chord somewhere within you. Thanks.”
By the way, who set this standard of “literary excellence” that is supposedly out there? Literary excellence is reading something and having a reaction to it – an emotional reaction.
Not using words like pedantic, incipient, or eutaxy – or describing something as chartreuse or vermilion (I mean, I do like *colorful* adjectives, haha) – but in all honesty, picking someone’s work apart one sentence at a time and describing exactly what’s wrong with all of it is soul-crushing. It’s enough to make people stop writing and stop reading.
Melissa and I tend to think we have a habit of “accepting too much” – but our system isn’t broken. It doesn’t need to be fixed or to fit in with the standards of other literary magazines. The fact that we love so much of your work is what makes us love working here. We’re enthusiastic and over-eager when it comes to cutting edge writing.
We want you to know how much you are valued here – and how much you do for our literary movement.
By the way, to those of you who expressed concern about my mother, she is doing better. She went to see a GI specialist the next day, who helped her with some long term solutions and also corroborated the fact that Harris Methodist Southwest’s Emergency Room staff is lazy and inept – and that they have sent people to her office before who still had a bowel obstruction. They actually let these people leave the hospital in that condition.
But I digress – she and I thank you so much for your kind words and encouragement, as well as your outrage on our behalf. It meant the world to us and we want you to know how special you guys are and how much you truly mean to me. And Melissa. And my mom.
Peace and Love,
PS: Keep writing!!
Kelly Fitzharris Coody