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Issue 1 Winter
2009
Out of
Print
After numerous setbacks, not
to mention the mysterious disappearance of our
poetry editor, the first issue of Pear Noir!
is finally here.
Four years ago, while most of
us were still in graduate school, Thursday nights
were reserved for karaoke. We met for drinks,
usually at Baudelaire’s on the South Side, and
discussed the possibility of publishing a journal in
between our best attempts at Pat Benatar or the
Kinks.
It’s not that we were
frustrated with what was available. Far from it. You
can always find a staggering amount of progressive
literature, if you know where to look. It’s just
that the writer’s life is difficult, even with the
increasing number of independent journals and
presses accepting unsolicited manuscripts, and we
wanted to do our part.
Simply put, our goal was to
create a space where a diverse group of writers
could share their works with a likeminded audience
that otherwise wouldn’t get to read them.
It wasn’t always easy—haggling
with printers and finding a distributor—but it was
definitely worth it.
*
This issue was edited in the
crawlspace behind the second-largest bookcase in
Pittsburgh. At least, that’s what we’ve been told.
In truth, the bookcase in
question is smaller than the ones on either side of
it, and we can only assume that any claims to its
size may have more to do with the pretentiously hip
selection of books on its shelves than its actual
physical proportions.
As for the crawlspace, its
walls are plastered with hardboiled posters from the
classic period of film noir: Stranger on the
Third Floor, The Maltese Falcon, The
Postman Always Rings Twice. A pear-shaped lamp,
a recent theft from our poetry editor’s garden-level
apartment, casts light against the slanted ceilings,
and an antique gramophone plays the same Saturday
Looks Good To Me record on an endless loop—which
isn’t exactly a bad thing.
*
The Pear Noir!
editorial board is made up of two English
professors, a high school math teacher, a hibachi
chef, and a turtle farmer.
During the selection process,
we met in the crawlspace behind the second-largest
bookcase in Pittsburgh, and read hundreds of
submissions under the watchful eyes of Humphrey
Bogart and Mary Astor. We ate crêpes and drank
Merlot, made shadow puppets and learned the
Charleston.
When we finally emerged,
straightening our ties and stomping the dust from
our wingtips, the selection was complete.
*
Interestingly enough, the
forty-three stories and poems in this issue are
somehow interrelated.
From the new geography of
Peter Schwartz’s “Naturalism” to the ancient pagodas
of David Starkey’s “Kyongju,” from the misremembered
past of Gregory Luce’s “The Last Night of Winter” to
the uncertain future of Ann McArdle’s “Tomorrow,”
these works speak to the ups and downs of the human
experience.
Wherever this issue takes you,
we hope that you find what you’re looking for. And,
if you happen to meet our poetry editor along the
way, tell her that she’s missed.
Contributors
John Bruce,
L. Burrow, Lacy Cunningham, Brandon Daiker, Lydia
Davis, Derek Dexheimer, William Doreski, Jéanpaul
Ferro, Zachary German, Howie Good, Joseph Grant,
Gail Gray, Sandy Green, Jason Heller, Jessica Hoard,
Carolyn Howard-Johnson, Raffi Robert Kiureghian,
Thomas Patrick Levy, Valerie Z. Lewis, Tao Lin,
Gregory Luce, Dana Mazur, Ann McArdle, Megan
McLachlan, Corey Mesler, PM Mooney, Greggory Moore,
Les Plesko, Kenneth Pobo, Richard Radford, Molly
Reid, Caleb Ross, Kelly Scarff, Peter Schwartz,
Milan Smith, David Starkey, J.J. Steinfeld, Robert
Swartwood, and William Walsh.
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