The Write Launch
July 2024 Issue

Art by Robb Kunz

New Poetry


Featured image for ““A Priori,” “Signs of Something,” “Zero-Sum””

Julie Benesh

“A Priori,” “Signs of Something,” “Zero-Sum”

The first time I saw St. Peter’s
magnificent marble and lack of time-
pieces, I dismayed my travel

partner with an obvious observation;
a trifling truism: that it reminded me of a casino
welcoming the hopeful riff-raff
Poetry
Featured image for ““Interval 213,” “Étude 46,” and “Étude 76””

Ray Malone

“Interval 213,” “Étude 46,” and “Étude 76”

reaching across, hand into the blackberry bush,
a walk from where we were down to the sea,
a small bay, of pebbles & the incoming swell of the water,
listening for the rhythm, as if it might be the key to writing
Poetry
Featured image for ““Big Bang,” “Mother Tongue,” and “Rarity””

Raju Vegiraju

“Big Bang,” “Mother Tongue,” and “Rarity”

How can something
come out of nothing,
let alone the universe?

But that is what contemporary
theory of cosmology proclaims—
Poetry
Featured image for ““Shaped,” “Relay,” and “Speechless””

Susan Shea

“Shaped,” “Relay,” and “Speechless”

Seeing blurred writing
on an abstract painting
brings me right back

to begging you to teach me
to read before I went to school
Poetry
Featured image for ““Your Clothes in Tatters,” “Into the Slow Air,” and “Current or Currently””

Samuel Gilpin

“Your Clothes in Tatters,” “Into the Slow Air,” and “Current or Currently”

…skyward, lying on our backs listening for rainfall,
lying, we the ones of loitering, of settling into the longing for dreams to overtake us,
asking if anything could overtake us,
this overwhelming desire, this yearning for…
Poetry
Featured image for ““I Used to Love Christmas Movies,” “Friday Morning 2:00 am,” and “Chasing History””

Joanne Alfano

“I Used to Love Christmas Movies,” “Friday Morning 2:00 am,” and “Chasing History”

I have been watching White Christmas for 65 years so
tonight, the first film shot in VistaVision and Technicolor
rolls onto my tv screen; but the evening news, with far more
advanced tools, has begun to seep into my holiday films …
Poetry
Featured image for ““I Used to Love Christmas Movies,” “Friday Morning 2:00 am,” and “Chasing History””

Joanne Alfano

“I Used to Love Christmas Movies,” “Friday Morning 2:00 am,” and “Chasing History”

I have been watching White Christmas for 65 years so
tonight, the first film shot in VistaVision and Technicolor
rolls onto my tv screen; but the evening news, with far more
advanced tools, has begun to seep into my holiday films …
Poetry
Featured image for ““Your Clothes in Tatters,” “Into the Slow Air,” and “Current or Currently””

Samuel Gilpin

“Your Clothes in Tatters,” “Into the Slow Air,” and “Current or Currently”

…skyward, lying on our backs listening for rainfall,
lying, we the ones of loitering, of settling into the longing for dreams to overtake us,
asking if anything could overtake us,
this overwhelming desire, this yearning for…
Poetry
Featured image for ““Shaped,” “Relay,” and “Speechless””

Susan Shea

“Shaped,” “Relay,” and “Speechless”

Seeing blurred writing
on an abstract painting
brings me right back

to begging you to teach me
to read before I went to school
Poetry
Featured image for ““Big Bang,” “Mother Tongue,” and “Rarity””

Raju Vegiraju

“Big Bang,” “Mother Tongue,” and “Rarity”

How can something
come out of nothing,
let alone the universe?

But that is what contemporary
theory of cosmology proclaims—
Poetry
Featured image for ““Interval 213,” “Étude 46,” and “Étude 76””

Ray Malone

“Interval 213,” “Étude 46,” and “Étude 76”

reaching across, hand into the blackberry bush,
a walk from where we were down to the sea,
a small bay, of pebbles & the incoming swell of the water,
listening for the rhythm, as if it might be the key to writing
Poetry
Featured image for ““A Priori,” “Signs of Something,” “Zero-Sum””

Julie Benesh

“A Priori,” “Signs of Something,” “Zero-Sum”

The first time I saw St. Peter’s
magnificent marble and lack of time-
pieces, I dismayed my travel

partner with an obvious observation;
a trifling truism: that it reminded me of a casino
welcoming the hopeful riff-raff
Poetry
Featured image for ““I Used to Love Christmas Movies,” “Friday Morning 2:00 am,” and “Chasing History””

Joanne Alfano

“I Used to Love Christmas Movies,” “Friday Morning 2:00 am,” and “Chasing History”

I have been watching White Christmas for 65 years so
tonight, the first film shot in VistaVision and Technicolor
rolls onto my tv screen; but the evening news, with far more
advanced tools, has begun to seep into my holiday films …
Poetry
Featured image for ““Your Clothes in Tatters,” “Into the Slow Air,” and “Current or Currently””

Samuel Gilpin

“Your Clothes in Tatters,” “Into the Slow Air,” and “Current or Currently”

…skyward, lying on our backs listening for rainfall,
lying, we the ones of loitering, of settling into the longing for dreams to overtake us,
asking if anything could overtake us,
this overwhelming desire, this yearning for…
Poetry
Featured image for ““Shaped,” “Relay,” and “Speechless””

Susan Shea

“Shaped,” “Relay,” and “Speechless”

Seeing blurred writing
on an abstract painting
brings me right back

to begging you to teach me
to read before I went to school
Poetry
Featured image for ““Big Bang,” “Mother Tongue,” and “Rarity””

Raju Vegiraju

“Big Bang,” “Mother Tongue,” and “Rarity”

How can something
come out of nothing,
let alone the universe?

But that is what contemporary
theory of cosmology proclaims—
Poetry
Featured image for ““Interval 213,” “Étude 46,” and “Étude 76””

Ray Malone

“Interval 213,” “Étude 46,” and “Étude 76”

reaching across, hand into the blackberry bush,
a walk from where we were down to the sea,
a small bay, of pebbles & the incoming swell of the water,
listening for the rhythm, as if it might be the key to writing
Poetry
Featured image for ““A Priori,” “Signs of Something,” “Zero-Sum””

Julie Benesh

“A Priori,” “Signs of Something,” “Zero-Sum”

The first time I saw St. Peter’s
magnificent marble and lack of time-
pieces, I dismayed my travel

partner with an obvious observation;
a trifling truism: that it reminded me of a casino
welcoming the hopeful riff-raff
Poetry

New Fiction

New Fiction

Featured image for “Restarting”

Katie Geer

Restarting

Charlotte’s dad is gone. If it weren’t for king-size candy bars, she would have realized sooner. But he disappeared while she’s eying the grocery store candy. It’s so much better here, which is why they always stop when they visit him on the god-damned island.
That’s what her mom calls it. Then Charlotte makes her put a dollar in the swear jar.
Short Story
Featured image for “There’s No Place Like Home”

Reyna Marder Gentin

There’s No Place Like Home

There were too many places to sit. That’s what Dorothy thought when they’d moved into the house in 1964, trading in what Lester had called their “starter home” for something bigger and grander. What had they thought they were starting? A family, a full life ahead of them.
Short Story
Featured image for “The First Night”

Meredith Overbeek

The First Night

The light was creeping in around the edges of the curtains, so she knew it was time to get up. Grandma wouldn’t mind now. The sun was up so she could be up too. This was a sleepover, and now that the sleeping part was over, the fun could begin.
Short Story
Featured image for “Abby”

Seth Foster

Abby

B E A B I G K I D A N D O N O TC R Y ‍ i squeeze ma’s hands tighter as we walk out of the funeral home sunshine hits my face with heat i lift my face up to the sun and squint the sunlight and tears on my face are hot and cold at the same time it feels funny i look at ma the strings from her glasses sway as we walk tears hang on the bottom of her chin
Short Story
Featured image for “Foxy”

Lucas Cowen

Foxy

Going to art therapy puts my anxiety into overdrive. I don’t have the patience for painting, not even for the five-minute figure studies, and I’m not here at these sessions because I respond so well to criticism. The coffee dispenser is practically bottomless, though. It’s never good coffee, obviously; it’s free and unlimited; by my eighth cup I start to feel like I’m someone else, which, to my understanding, is the point of being here.
Short Story
Featured image for “Between These Overflowing Aisles”

Elizabeth Herr

Between These Overflowing Aisles

If Mina stared long and hard enough at the harsh fluorescent lighting, she could disappear into the abyss of all the other times she burned under its harsh whiteness–she could forget where she was, how old she was, who she was. Mina wondered if these self-proclaimed staring contests with the lights were the cause of her headaches, or if there was something actually wrong with her.
Short Story
Featured image for “Another Way Through Adlivun”

Lisa Voorhees

Another Way Through Adlivun

My name is Saghani, which means Raven in our tongue. Some say with a name like that, I’ve been cursed since the day I was born. Perhaps they are right.
At eighteen years of age, I was already a widow, gathering fish from the nets alongside the other members of the widows’ colony, knee-deep in the frigid water of the Nilak River.
Short Story
Featured image for “The Danger of Insatiable Curiosity”

Lily Finch

The Danger of Insatiable Curiosity

Wade saw the roofline of the house while he hiked along the edge of the forest. He walked past it initially, but the tall spires and darkened stained glass windows’ Gothic look weren’t to be ignored. He’d never seen a real Gothic mansion before—only what he’d seen in movies and knew about from what he read in books.
Short Story
Featured image for “A Very Short Description of the Destruction of the Indies”

Sandro F. Piedrahita

A Very Short Description of the Destruction of the Indies

“Why do you say Felipillo is a savage? Sure, he likes to eat with his hands, and he doesn’t speak perfect Castilian, but there is nothing cruel or barbaric about him. Father Dominguez told me savages drink human blood and sacrifice children to their gods. Felipillo has never done anything like that. And neither have his people.”
Long Short Story
Featured image for “Restarting”

Katie Geer

Restarting

Charlotte’s dad is gone. If it weren’t for king-size candy bars, she would have realized sooner. But he disappeared while she’s eying the grocery store candy. It’s so much better here, which is why they always stop when they visit him on the god-damned island.
That’s what her mom calls it. Then Charlotte makes her put a dollar in the swear jar.
Short Story
Featured image for “There’s No Place Like Home”

Reyna Marder Gentin

There’s No Place Like Home

There were too many places to sit. That’s what Dorothy thought when they’d moved into the house in 1964, trading in what Lester had called their “starter home” for something bigger and grander. What had they thought they were starting? A family, a full life ahead of them.
Short Story
Featured image for “The First Night”

Meredith Overbeek

The First Night

The light was creeping in around the edges of the curtains, so she knew it was time to get up. Grandma wouldn’t mind now. The sun was up so she could be up too. This was a sleepover, and now that the sleeping part was over, the fun could begin.
Short Story
Featured image for “Abby”

Seth Foster

Abby

B E A B I G K I D A N D O N O TC R Y ‍ i squeeze ma’s hands tighter as we walk out of the funeral home sunshine hits my face with heat i lift my face up to the sun and squint the sunlight and tears on my face are hot and cold at the same time it feels funny i look at ma the strings from her glasses sway as we walk tears hang on the bottom of her chin
Short Story
Featured image for “Foxy”

Lucas Cowen

Foxy

Going to art therapy puts my anxiety into overdrive. I don’t have the patience for painting, not even for the five-minute figure studies, and I’m not here at these sessions because I respond so well to criticism. The coffee dispenser is practically bottomless, though. It’s never good coffee, obviously; it’s free and unlimited; by my eighth cup I start to feel like I’m someone else, which, to my understanding, is the point of being here.
Short Story
Featured image for “Between These Overflowing Aisles”

Elizabeth Herr

Between These Overflowing Aisles

If Mina stared long and hard enough at the harsh fluorescent lighting, she could disappear into the abyss of all the other times she burned under its harsh whiteness–she could forget where she was, how old she was, who she was. Mina wondered if these self-proclaimed staring contests with the lights were the cause of her headaches, or if there was something actually wrong with her.
Short Story
Featured image for “Another Way Through Adlivun”

Lisa Voorhees

Another Way Through Adlivun

My name is Saghani, which means Raven in our tongue. Some say with a name like that, I’ve been cursed since the day I was born. Perhaps they are right.
At eighteen years of age, I was already a widow, gathering fish from the nets alongside the other members of the widows’ colony, knee-deep in the frigid water of the Nilak River.
Short Story
Featured image for “The Danger of Insatiable Curiosity”

Lily Finch

The Danger of Insatiable Curiosity

Wade saw the roofline of the house while he hiked along the edge of the forest. He walked past it initially, but the tall spires and darkened stained glass windows’ Gothic look weren’t to be ignored. He’d never seen a real Gothic mansion before—only what he’d seen in movies and knew about from what he read in books.
Short Story
Featured image for “A Very Short Description of the Destruction of the Indies”

Sandro F. Piedrahita

A Very Short Description of the Destruction of the Indies

“Why do you say Felipillo is a savage? Sure, he likes to eat with his hands, and he doesn’t speak perfect Castilian, but there is nothing cruel or barbaric about him. Father Dominguez told me savages drink human blood and sacrifice children to their gods. Felipillo has never done anything like that. And neither have his people.”
Long Short Story
Featured image for “Restarting”

Katie Geer

Restarting

Charlotte’s dad is gone. If it weren’t for king-size candy bars, she would have realized sooner. But he disappeared while she’s eying the grocery store candy. It’s so much better here, which is why they always stop when they visit him on the god-damned island.
That’s what her mom calls it. Then Charlotte makes her put a dollar in the swear jar.
Short Story
Featured image for “There’s No Place Like Home”

Reyna Marder Gentin

There’s No Place Like Home

There were too many places to sit. That’s what Dorothy thought when they’d moved into the house in 1964, trading in what Lester had called their “starter home” for something bigger and grander. What had they thought they were starting? A family, a full life ahead of them.
Short Story
Featured image for “The First Night”

Meredith Overbeek

The First Night

The light was creeping in around the edges of the curtains, so she knew it was time to get up. Grandma wouldn’t mind now. The sun was up so she could be up too. This was a sleepover, and now that the sleeping part was over, the fun could begin.
Short Story
Featured image for “Abby”

Seth Foster

Abby

B E A B I G K I D A N D O N O TC R Y ‍ i squeeze ma’s hands tighter as we walk out of the funeral home sunshine hits my face with heat i lift my face up to the sun and squint the sunlight and tears on my face are hot and cold at the same time it feels funny i look at ma the strings from her glasses sway as we walk tears hang on the bottom of her chin
Short Story
Featured image for “Foxy”

Lucas Cowen

Foxy

Going to art therapy puts my anxiety into overdrive. I don’t have the patience for painting, not even for the five-minute figure studies, and I’m not here at these sessions because I respond so well to criticism. The coffee dispenser is practically bottomless, though. It’s never good coffee, obviously; it’s free and unlimited; by my eighth cup I start to feel like I’m someone else, which, to my understanding, is the point of being here.
Short Story
Featured image for “Between These Overflowing Aisles”

Elizabeth Herr

Between These Overflowing Aisles

If Mina stared long and hard enough at the harsh fluorescent lighting, she could disappear into the abyss of all the other times she burned under its harsh whiteness–she could forget where she was, how old she was, who she was. Mina wondered if these self-proclaimed staring contests with the lights were the cause of her headaches, or if there was something actually wrong with her.
Short Story
Featured image for “Another Way Through Adlivun”

Lisa Voorhees

Another Way Through Adlivun

My name is Saghani, which means Raven in our tongue. Some say with a name like that, I’ve been cursed since the day I was born. Perhaps they are right.
At eighteen years of age, I was already a widow, gathering fish from the nets alongside the other members of the widows’ colony, knee-deep in the frigid water of the Nilak River.
Short Story
Featured image for “The Danger of Insatiable Curiosity”

Lily Finch

The Danger of Insatiable Curiosity

Wade saw the roofline of the house while he hiked along the edge of the forest. He walked past it initially, but the tall spires and darkened stained glass windows’ Gothic look weren’t to be ignored. He’d never seen a real Gothic mansion before—only what he’d seen in movies and knew about from what he read in books.
Short Story
Featured image for “A Very Short Description of the Destruction of the Indies”

Sandro F. Piedrahita

A Very Short Description of the Destruction of the Indies

“Why do you say Felipillo is a savage? Sure, he likes to eat with his hands, and he doesn’t speak perfect Castilian, but there is nothing cruel or barbaric about him. Father Dominguez told me savages drink human blood and sacrifice children to their gods. Felipillo has never done anything like that. And neither have his people.”
Long Short Story

Novel Excerpts


New Nonfiction

Featured image for “On the Edge of My Mother Tongue”

Dominique Margolis

On the Edge of My Mother Tongue

There is space on the edge of language where it is quiet but far from empty. It is the space where life is at it should be. I happened upon it by chance one summer between my first and second year of legal existence while scratching at the wall next to my crib on the first floor of the Au Style Modern’ tailoring shop in the village of Tauves in the Auvergne region of France.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “The Merriest Widow”

David Kennedy

The Merriest Widow

A rider was drawing closer, through the light fog rising from the forested hills around Stockton. The ladies had initially considered the pursuer as merely another gallivant taking some exercise, but the man on the horse was taking no leisurely route, rather a direct line toward their carriage.
“Have no fear,” said the coachman. “I am a tolerable shot at a hundred feet.”
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “Texting with a Ghost”

Trelaine Ito

Texting with a Ghost

“Can we talk?”
He sounds almost too forceful in his delivery, the tone of his voice transforming his question into an attack, so he selects his next set of words deliberately, knowing he’d only have one shot at his opening.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “A Traveling Cloud”

Begonya Plaza-Rosenbluth

A Traveling Cloud

After spending a year in Northern Spain with my father’s sister’s family, I reunited with my parents and siblings in Bogotá, Colombia, instead of our home in Los Angeles, California. My parents were starting over again from scratch and setting up shop to establish themselves. Mom, who was a perpetual optimist, had recently hit the jackpot, and with an endless display of excitement she was paying-off debts, shopping for new home furniture, and preparing for my milestone birthday celebration.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “On the Edge of My Mother Tongue”

Dominique Margolis

On the Edge of My Mother Tongue

There is space on the edge of language where it is quiet but far from empty. It is the space where life is at it should be. I happened upon it by chance one summer between my first and second year of legal existence while scratching at the wall next to my crib on the first floor of the Au Style Modern’ tailoring shop in the village of Tauves in the Auvergne region of France.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “The Merriest Widow”

David Kennedy

The Merriest Widow

A rider was drawing closer, through the light fog rising from the forested hills around Stockton. The ladies had initially considered the pursuer as merely another gallivant taking some exercise, but the man on the horse was taking no leisurely route, rather a direct line toward their carriage.
“Have no fear,” said the coachman. “I am a tolerable shot at a hundred feet.”
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “Texting with a Ghost”

Trelaine Ito

Texting with a Ghost

“Can we talk?”
He sounds almost too forceful in his delivery, the tone of his voice transforming his question into an attack, so he selects his next set of words deliberately, knowing he’d only have one shot at his opening.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “A Traveling Cloud”

Begonya Plaza-Rosenbluth

A Traveling Cloud

After spending a year in Northern Spain with my father’s sister’s family, I reunited with my parents and siblings in Bogotá, Colombia, instead of our home in Los Angeles, California. My parents were starting over again from scratch and setting up shop to establish themselves. Mom, who was a perpetual optimist, had recently hit the jackpot, and with an endless display of excitement she was paying-off debts, shopping for new home furniture, and preparing for my milestone birthday celebration.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “On the Edge of My Mother Tongue”

Dominique Margolis

On the Edge of My Mother Tongue

There is space on the edge of language where it is quiet but far from empty. It is the space where life is at it should be. I happened upon it by chance one summer between my first and second year of legal existence while scratching at the wall next to my crib on the first floor of the Au Style Modern’ tailoring shop in the village of Tauves in the Auvergne region of France.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “The Merriest Widow”

David Kennedy

The Merriest Widow

A rider was drawing closer, through the light fog rising from the forested hills around Stockton. The ladies had initially considered the pursuer as merely another gallivant taking some exercise, but the man on the horse was taking no leisurely route, rather a direct line toward their carriage.
“Have no fear,” said the coachman. “I am a tolerable shot at a hundred feet.”
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “Texting with a Ghost”

Trelaine Ito

Texting with a Ghost

“Can we talk?”
He sounds almost too forceful in his delivery, the tone of his voice transforming his question into an attack, so he selects his next set of words deliberately, knowing he’d only have one shot at his opening.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “A Traveling Cloud”

Begonya Plaza-Rosenbluth

A Traveling Cloud

After spending a year in Northern Spain with my father’s sister’s family, I reunited with my parents and siblings in Bogotá, Colombia, instead of our home in Los Angeles, California. My parents were starting over again from scratch and setting up shop to establish themselves. Mom, who was a perpetual optimist, had recently hit the jackpot, and with an endless display of excitement she was paying-off debts, shopping for new home furniture, and preparing for my milestone birthday celebration.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “On the Edge of My Mother Tongue”

Dominique Margolis

On the Edge of My Mother Tongue

There is space on the edge of language where it is quiet but far from empty. It is the space where life is at it should be. I happened upon it by chance one summer between my first and second year of legal existence while scratching at the wall next to my crib on the first floor of the Au Style Modern’ tailoring shop in the village of Tauves in the Auvergne region of France.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “The Merriest Widow”

David Kennedy

The Merriest Widow

A rider was drawing closer, through the light fog rising from the forested hills around Stockton. The ladies had initially considered the pursuer as merely another gallivant taking some exercise, but the man on the horse was taking no leisurely route, rather a direct line toward their carriage.
“Have no fear,” said the coachman. “I am a tolerable shot at a hundred feet.”
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “Texting with a Ghost”

Trelaine Ito

Texting with a Ghost

“Can we talk?”
He sounds almost too forceful in his delivery, the tone of his voice transforming his question into an attack, so he selects his next set of words deliberately, knowing he’d only have one shot at his opening.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “A Traveling Cloud”

Begonya Plaza-Rosenbluth

A Traveling Cloud

After spending a year in Northern Spain with my father’s sister’s family, I reunited with my parents and siblings in Bogotá, Colombia, instead of our home in Los Angeles, California. My parents were starting over again from scratch and setting up shop to establish themselves. Mom, who was a perpetual optimist, had recently hit the jackpot, and with an endless display of excitement she was paying-off debts, shopping for new home furniture, and preparing for my milestone birthday celebration.
Creative Nonfiction