After editing 11 outstanding issues of the Whiskey Tit Journal Meagan Masterman passed the job to me. I hope to continue her work with the same dedication and sincerity. I am a poet, novelist, and nonfiction writer who has always wanted to edit a journal, so this opportunity is exciting.

For the first issue in June 2020 Meagan wrote, “Why now? We wanted to bring you some literary light in the darkness.” In June 2020 we were stepping out of quarantine to spend the summer outside in the sun. There was palpable energy and joy just sitting down for a drink with friends. But Meagan saw the shade that smothers us today: class war; and in these pages, she declared her intention to stand with the working class.

In 2025 we don’t need a light, we need a blowtorch.

As I was considering what I’d write by way of introduction, the words True and Real popped into my head. These ideas have been subject to critical scorn for decades, as both academics and political operatives found them to be naïve, sinister, or useless for the business at hand. But we live in a time when the questions philosophers used to debate have entered the mainstream, with the birth of AI: What is the nature of consciousness? What does it mean to be human? What is the role of labor? How would we define ourselves in a future without employment?

We no longer can trust that anything we read or see is true or real, and suddenly truth and reality become vitally important. Artists and writers have something to say about this and always have.
We don’t publish content, we publish poetry, fiction, and nonfiction written by human beings out of the work and struggle to be human. Writing reminds us of the beauty of the world, of love, of relationships, of the pleasures of creativity, learning, and community, as well as the more savage pleasures of satire and contempt for stupidity.

I believe that creative people are imagining and building the world that could replace this one. It is our job to do so.

Which is to say: writing to each other is one of the ways we will live through this. Miette started Whisk(e)y Tit so writers too radical, weird, or defiant of genre for conventional publishing would find a home. Good writing feels both true and real. In this first issue I’ve picked a mix of nonfiction, poetry, and fiction. The pieces range from formal experimentation to satire, the political, the absurd, the grotesque, the disgusting.

If you want to contribute, we will be publishing two issues a year, in November and June. The submissions portal will open two months in advance of each issue. Please read the revised guidelines.

Thank you, Meagan Masterman, for passing on a healthy beast! Thank you, Philip Shelley, for your editorial guidance and assistance. Thank you, Miette, for hosting us.