September 30, 2024
Hello wildlings,
This letter comes to you a touch late. I’ve stepped in to write it while our Managing Editor, Beth, deals with the aftermath of Hurricane Helene.
It’s a tricky thing to pull yourself up in the face of disaster, especially when it comes in so many forms. To keep going can seem insurmountable. And in a world that seems to be filled with disasters at the moment, finding light in the darkness becomes harder and harder. And yet we continue to search, to stand for our beliefs, to hold each other gently.
This unthemed issue was a tricky one to assemble. Often as I stand at my computer, looking at poems and art, something will sing to me and everything will fall into place like magic. This time, that moment didn’t appear on time at all.
I didn’t give up. I walked (I’ve read that writers are very frequently walkers), I pondered, I leapt in and second guessed myself. I held on because I knew that moment would arrive eventually as long as I held faith. And then, one day, I walked up to my computer and saw the pattern straight away. After a good laugh at myself, the assembly flowed.
Putting together these issues is one of my great creative joys. It shines a lot of light on the dark days. We have a blend here of extensively published creatives and others who’re newer to the process. I’m also thrilled that FERAL gets to be someone’s very first ever publication.
In these penumbral days, creativity is as important as ever. It’s how we process our inner and outer worlds and how we’re able to reach out to others.
FERAL is here to stay. Thanks for supporting us.
We’ll always keep a light on for you,
Amanda McLeod
Art Editor