Columns

First,  you  must  experience  an early  trauma.  It  can  be  as  dramatic  as  a  kidnapping,  a  house fire,  or  abuse  from  a  trusted adult or  something  as  simple  as being an only child to

I sit at the kitchen table with the story in front of me and search for positive feedback. Something more than, “Your font is really readable,” or “Your title, ‘Hills like White Giraffes,’ is very clever.”

When we started Philadelphia Stories, we developed a five-year strategic plan that included the launch of a book division, the institution of affordable writing workshops, and other opportunities for professional development.

As usual, things rarely slow down for us at Philadelphia Stories, and this spring was no exception. With the introduction of our successful fiction writing workshops, taught by Aimee LaBrie and Marc Schuster , we’ve branched out into another area of professional development—one that we hope will continue to thrive.

For someone who loves to read and thinks that authors are like rock stars, it was a natural fit for me to become involved with Philadelphia Stories when I accepted the position of Director of Development. This has allowed me to actively share my passion in a professional capacity, by helping to build a community of readers, writers, and artists.

In graduate school, I took a nonfiction course taught be a woman who was (and still is) a very established and widely published New York writer (we’ll call her Brenda). Like her writing, her teaching style was brutal and painfully honest. It was clear from the start that she did not enjoy teaching. On the first day of class, she looked at all of us gathered hopefully around the conference table with our notebooks and pens and said flatly, “There will be no tears in this class. Anyone who cries fails.” I laughed. She glared at me, but didn’t go so far as to ban laughter, though I suspect she would have liked to.

Spring and summer brought many firsts to Philadelphia Stories: our first contest, the Rosemont Writer’ s Retreat, and the launch of PS Books, our new regional books division.

Though I have not written any interesting fiction in, oh, years, I still find it easy to judge the writing of others. This impulse comes not just from having taken years of workshops alongside teaching undergraduate writing, but also from my own dark little heart, which says something like

We Were Just Getting Started...

We know that people die at 55. We just think that their names will be unfamiliar. And then… Sandy Crimmins joined the Poetry Board of Philadelphia Stories before the second issue. We reached out to her after she impressed the hell out of us with “Spring,” which appeared in the premier issue. From the beginning she brought a calm and conciliatory voice to a selection board made up exclusively of other poets. Sandy did not force her opinion on anyone. She was good at explaining what she thought was good about a piece and why she would be open to selecting it for publication.

Spring and summer brought many firsts to Philadelphia Stories: our first contest, the Rosemont Writer’ s Retreat, and the launch of PS Books, our new regional books division.

Helen Mallon won the First Person Essay Contest with her essay, My Charlie Manson, published in this issue. Judge and contest sponsor , author Kelly Simmons (Standing Still), had this to say about the winning essay, “[My CharlieManson] was a subtle, affecting essay that took a lot of courage to reveal.”We’d also like to congratulate Victoria Barnes on her runner-up essay, Anthony—A Love Story, which can be found on our website. Thanks to all who participated!