Yeah, yeah, yeah – this is yet another ‘spring has sprung’ email. And we’re behind the curve, as marketing trends go, too.
April has been a pretty wild month over here at Moments Between. Both Magda and I have had a lot on our plates, and there were some touch-and-go periods where I seriously questioned my decision to add this magazine.
But, as usual, our writers reminded us why we do it, why we wedge in time to read and respond to submissions, work closely with our writers to tailor accepted pieces to MBL’s style and voice, and even (not…
We’re looking for prose, poetry, and illustrations that illuminate the miniature tender, bold, bittersweet, tragic, swoon-worthy, and spicy moments you share with the people you’re connected to (either happily or unhappily). This may include lovers, friends, family (however you define it), or some unexpected relationship.
Examples of the kinds of relationship writing we love include: this Modern Love essay about a woman’s relationship with her mother shifting during the pandemic (many ML essays fit our publication’s voice), this short story by Brandon Taylor about family trauma and loneliness, and this essay by Ann Patchett about her 50-year friendship.
Last year, when I was lamenting for the millionth time to anyone who’d listen that I couldn’t find a publication that focused on the many tiny nuances of human relationships that I love to read about, I had a realization: maybe, instead of wishing the exact thing I wanted to read existed, I should start it!
This was a wild stretch for me. I’m not particularly ambitious, and I am quite cowardly, but last year pushed me out of my comfort zone in many ways – one of them resulted in this here publication. I was lucky enough to rope…
2. “Grief is grief. Nobody is keeping score, and it’s not a competition.”
3. “My weekend was good, thanks — we took the kids to their school’s Halloween parade. They were both astronauts.”
4. “Do you want to see a photo?”
5. “I know we’re not here to talk about me, but I just want to normalize your emotional response by disclosing that I also cried on election night.”
6. “What would it look like to put your own needs before the needs of everyone else? Don’t you deserve some care?”
7. “You know…
This time last year, I was lonely, bored, and generally unfulfilled — I hated my job in finance, surrounded by conservative ’80s types and felt myself slipping away from my writing. So I did what I usually do when I’m feeling underwhelmed: I overwhelmed myself.
Look, this isn’t a habit I would recommend to anyone else, ever. Except that I’m about to recommend it in a limited form right now. Because one of the ways I overwhelmed myself was to sign up or apply for everything writing-related, from Meredith Talusan’s Fairest workshops to fiction-writing classes to various freelance writing gigs…
The attack came out of nowhere, as they often seemed to. I’d been singing along to the radio while I navigated heavy traffic, thinking fondly of the $7 bottle of Trader Joe’s rosé that awaited me at my Oakland studio and wondering if I should text my boyfriend, Scott, when I got home, to see if he wanted to come over for a mellow dinner. The thought of his long arms wrapped around me had brought a flush to my cheeks even though nobody was there to see it.
Then I heard it: the opening of Adele’s new song, ‘Hello,’…
After I moved back to the US from London, where my writing career began, I wrote in isolation for seven years, feeling the loss of my community like a missing piece of myself. I had no idea how to start over — I’d passively inherited my UK group from my master’s program, so I applied to an MFA program here in Washington to try to replicate that. I had no idea how I’d pay for it, so maybe it was lucky I never made it off the wait list.
In my shame at failing not only myself but my recommenders…
Writer, Editor, Person who makes cakes. Love to make things awkward – no such thing as too much vulnerability. EIC: Moments Between