If you're reading April's L'attitude, you've likely picked it up because you were curious to see how an Alaskan boom operator filming in California handles facing down a brown bear. Or what a boxer retiring after decades in the ring has to say about hanging up his gloves. Or what other thought-provoking, beautiful, interesting, and/or arresting art your fellow Southeast Alaskans can produce.
This is the third month for L'attitude, and the first it is no longer included as an insert in the regular paper. (Unless we accidentally print too many, which has certainly never ... um.)
We have also launched our Web site, www.lattitude58.com. There, writers and poets can expand the size of their audience (and share their publication with Aunt Thelma in Tennessee). Photos, paintings and illustrations will be available for viewing in their original glory. Our press crew here does a fantastic job, but sometimes color or sharpness is lost in translation. Online, everything will look just like it did when it was e-mailed to us.
Speaking of which, those interested in submitting poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction, paintings, photos, drawings, or something else entirely can now submit at L'attitude's very own e-mail address: email@example.com. The deadline for the next issue is Wednesday, April 21, and those interested in putting themselves in the running for one of our ongoing or special contests have three to choose from:
Our monthly cover art contest, with the winner receiving $60. Reid Harris won the contest and accompanying money-pot this month with "Hoarfrost." Congratulations, Reid!
Our now-monthly creative writing contest, which can go to creative nonfiction, fiction, a poem, or a package of poems from a single contributor, depending on merit. The winner will receive $125. The winner this month is David Reed, author of the eminently enjoyable "Staring down a bear."
Our special May fiction contest, which will award $75 to first place, $50 to second and $25 to third. Stories should be between 600 and 800 words and begin with the words: "They untied the boat."
Simple. Straightforward. Or not.
They untied the boat as Haley stood on the bench, hands on her hips, scanning the horizon. "There," she said, pointing at a distant plume. "The whales are out there."
They untied the boat just as the fire caught on the dry, splintered planks of the dock, searing their faces with sudden gusts of heat.
They untied the boat. Or they tried, anyway, but the damn rope was wet and wouldn't untangle, and Roger's fingers were aching and cold. "Screw it," he said, straightening, his hand on his lower back. "Let's just go for a drink."
They untied the boat every night in Harold's dream. And every night, it was just as he'd always imagined it would be: bass eager, fat, leaping into the cooler, the prow cutting cleanly through the smooth surface of the water. But every morning, when he opened his eyes, the dream was gone.
Speaking of fun (yes, fun and L'attitude might as well just be synonyms) thanks to Nick Henderson for taking pictures at L'attitude's launch party, at the restaurant formerly known as Troxel's, now The Breakwater Inn Restaurant & Lounge. (So much can change in a month.)
The party was fun, and so is this issue. Enjoy.
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