LETTER FROM THE EDITORS
Despite the editors having different backgrounds and perspectives, we embraced the opportunity to come together and create this year’s volume of The Salal Review. While our personal fondness for certain pieces played a part in the selections you will find here, we strived as a group to publish pieces that evoked a feeling of shared appreciation and admiration. The literary and visual artwork in this magazine was not chosen with ease. After many hours of discussion, each of us had to put our own preferences aside to create a volume that we hope will inspire a shared sense of appreciation and admiration within you, our readers scattered throughout this diverse region.
One thing we agreed upon without much discussion was that any piece—whether it is a poem, sculpture, or short story—should make the artist’s passion tangible. Even though we do not see the joy, pain, time, and effort that goes into your creations, in the best pieces of art we can feel the strength and vulnerability required to produce something so intimate. This is what we look for when deciding which pieces to publish in our magazine: not some unattainable concept of perfection.
Unexpectedly, Volume 19 showcases a collection of pieces that share a common theme of perspectives. Many of the literary pieces, for instance, offer unique points of view for readers to experience as their own. One story in particular gives readers a glimpse into the mind of an older woman reflecting on her life. In another, the author describes what it’s like inside the mind of Azrael, the angel of death. Collectively, these pieces challenge our views and beliefs by giving us the chance to walk in another’s shoes.
While we are on the subject of walking in someone else’s shoes, allow me to put you in mine for a moment. As a child, I remember hiding in the library during lunch to read the book I was engrossed in. It did not take long for me to get sucked into the story. On many of these days, I would repeatedly glance at the clock in a vain attempt to make sure I got to class on time. I would start by checking the time every five minutes, then ten, then twenty, and then I would end up missing class. We all have these types of moments. Moments where time is seamlessly moving faster than we know. I hope you find yourself lost in time— lost in these pages—in the same way we, the editors, have.