A tidy, good-looking little journal that made me instantly want to hate it. I can’t really tell you why. I just did. I wanted to hate it and thus I was able to loathe the poetry. But I started softening up as I got to the first fiction piece, although I don’t for a moment believe that gill best’s story about giving his mom pot tea to rid her of migraines is fiction. But with Dropping Things by Dan Fisher, I had to come all the way over to liking. Although Fisher makes some familiar mistakes of the overwrought young writer, he’s got a great ear for dialogue and gets the heart-stopping details right. The whole thing wraps up with a great set of reviews of student films that played at a Festival cinema in Toronto. This is a first effort that could turn into something cool if they want it to, and don’t look now kids, but they’re looking for submissions. (HC)
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