Spring is unfurling over here in the Pacific Northwest, and we are so excited to celebrate the work of our past contributors: Ally Ang (Issue 85) has a new poem in The Rumpus and is the recipient of a 2023 National Endowment for the Arts Creative Writing Fellowship. Wendy Guerra and her translators Nancy Naomi …
In 2020, at the start of the global pandemic, former Bellingham Review editors Jai Dulani and Suzanne Paola started a feature called “Resilient Pieholes” — where writers shared their work on food, cooking, comfort, home, and connection. The New York Times gave the feature a wonderful shout-out! In the past, we have published work by …
Thank you to everyone who came out to say hello during AWP in Seattle-– at the book fair and at our off-site reading featuring Keith S. Wilson and Ally Ang! And thank you for submitting to our 2023 contests. We are looking forward to reading! We will re-open for submissions this fall. With much love …
We are so excited to say hi to you during this year’s AWP Conference in Seattle! Stop by our booth (Western Washington University) #738! AND come out to hear our contributors Ally Ang & Keith S. Wilson read during our off-site party/reading “b e t w e e n s p a c e s” …
Gabby Triana (BR’s Hybrid Editor) speaks with poet Taneum Bambrick about her visceral second book Intimacies, Received — as well as what TV she’s watching. Enjoy! Read Gabby’s review of Intimacies, Received here. And find Taneum’s book from Copper Canyon here.
We are excited to announce our 2023 judges: Susan Nguyen (Poetry), Sasha LaPointe (Creative Nonfiction), and Corinne Manning (Fiction)! Susan Nguyen’s debut poetry collection Dear Diaspora (University of Nebraska Press 2021) won the Prairie Schooner Book Prize in Poetry, a New Mexico-Arizona Book Award, and was a finalist for the Julie Suk Award. Her poems …
What are my values as a poet, as a person, and how am I living those values out in the way I usher this book through its journey? For me, it came down to community. This book is a way to be in community with more humans around big questions and little questions, and just being human together.
When do I know when a moment is a poem? Or worth attempting to see if it’s a poem? For me, it’s a lot about discomfort. When is there a moment where there’s just an edge—there’s something that leaves me with that brow furrow, you know? Like how does that happen? How is that part of the human condition…why? Why, my seven and 10-year-old have been asking the whole time I’ve been lucky enough to be watching them be humans. The “why” is this brow furrow that starts the process and then over time, the sounds and the line breaks are what helps me figure out if this is a poem or if it’s just a journal entry and needs to just sit at my desk for a while.
