Seaside Gothic

Fiction | Poetry | Nonfiction

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Editor’s Letter Issue 4

Editor's Letter Issue 4

The wise man built his house upon the rock, for when the rains came it stood firm. So goes the parable, once told by a man who spoke in riddles. I am no believer in parables or proverbs, nor the words of those long dead which claim truths contradicting that which I and others know. To deny yourself is to live a lie. I embrace my own truth.

For you, perhaps, those words hold resonance, or maybe you stand on the other side of the line. In either case I applaud you, for as long as you are true to you then you are true. It could be a rock you see beneath your feet, or the sand, but it matters not. The value is in the choice that you are able to make.

This Issue, much like this magazine, is a choice. It exists as its own truth, in-part mine, but more and from all who contribute. It rides the wind as another season rolls in and with this shifting current Seaside Gothic here again washes up. No matter the vantage point of those who look and listen, it is to the displaced we cast our eye and ear. Those without foundation are our focus, for they live upon this waste-strewn laid land.

Come see what I see. The view is fair and the weather changing but yet here on this borderline the ground shifts and is unsure. In truth this zone which is half submerged is both land and sea yet it creeps more towards each side as the hours roll. This is wet land and dry land, life land and death land, a land of plenty and of scarcity where nothing can be built to last but everything stands a while. It is a waste land that we love and so we proclaim it our own.

Our house stands upon the sand. Let the rains come, for we will never stop building.