Newsletter IV: January 2021 |
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Bel Esprit! A Literary Magazine |
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A Letter from the Editor Hello everyone, Here we are. It is 2021. We all kind of hoped that as soon as the clock struck midnight and sequin-clad super-spreaders cozied up to kiss their counterparts, and fireworks exploded in the background for virtual viewers to enjoy, that a new spirit would slide his way onto the scene, the spirit of 2021. The pesky imp of 2020 would retreat from view taking all his stay-at-home restrictions, natural disasters and sourdough starters with him. Our new friend, 2021, would bring health, freedom and live concerts. We'd wake up early on January 1st, ready to pick back up where we left off last March. Yet, here we are. Every year, leading up to the new year we concoct plans of a better world and more impressive versions of ourselves as if overnight the virus will wither away and we will suddenly become more organized, motivated and skinny. But the best thing is, maybe we will! The hope, the motivation, the excitement in living our lives returns year after year without fail! Remaining on that theme, here are a few of the pieces we've put together for the dawn of this new beginning: In his latest poem Barton West explores a bit of that inner conflict and confusion we often experience as human beings navigating the world. Are we living up to our potential? Are our motives pure? Are we using our limited time on this planet well? In his second contribution to Bel Esprit, A Tree: The Story About Your Life, Casey Noack spins a captivating prose acknowledging the secret and hidden lives of trees. He doesn't ignore how we often experience these giants - standing at their base, admiring their interaction with light and color and noise - but the focus shifts from the beauty and wisdom of the tree's exterior, to the strong and humble interior we are rarely subjected to. As he moves our eyes from the leaves in the canopy, down the bark, and to the dirt and roots under our feet we can't help but connect this image to the hidden strength and complicated pasts all humans possess but often hide. Last but not least, in a few weeks we will be releasing a new section aptly named, LISTEN. If reading is not your preferred method of ingesting our content, and instead, you'd rather listen to me read them, you're in luck! If you would like to sign up to be a reader for one or more of these pieces, shoot me an e-mail at editorinchief@belespritproject.com. A lot of exciting new things coming your way! Happy New Year! Your grateful editor, Emily Menges |
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"Either you had Bel Esprit or you did not have it." - Hemingway, A Moveable Feast "We're all getting out of the bank!" - The People at Bel Esprit |
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The Experts v. The People |
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Esprit of the Bel Variety |
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THE EXPERTS v. THE PEOPLE This month we strayed from our usual format and instead created a of panel of experts and how they weigh in on the topic: "Write What You Know" Expert 2: Ursula K. Le Guin “Write what you know,” I was regularly told this as a beginner. I think it’s a very good rule and have always obeyed it. I write about imaginary countries, alien societies on other planets, dragons, wizards, the Napa Valley in 22002. I know these things." Expert 3: Ken Kesey “One of the dumbest things you were ever taught was to write what you know. Because what you know is usually dull." Expert 6: Toni Morrison “Don’t pay any attention to that. First, because you don’t know anything..." (Continue on site...) |
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Writing Prompt 3: Write about a family activity you dreaded as a child. (And read a response from a contributor.) "Once every few weeks, my mother would announce over Friday night pizza that the next morning we would be cleaning the basement. This was a vague “we” as my mother took no part in this particular activity. To be fair, she did quite literally everything else. The only time I ever remember her descending those precarious, maroon-carpeted steps was to inspect the finished product of our morning labor. In between those dreaded mornings, she remained safely upstairs. We never knew exactly what the threshold of disaster and chaos had to be to move my mother to this basement-cleaning declaration, but as the carpet slowly disappeared and the toys and mayhem gradually piled around our feet, and then ankles, and then knees, a cautious unease began to surface, warning us that the dreaded day was approaching."....(continue on site) - Emily Menges |
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Wandering and Wondering Poem submitted by Barton West |
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Alone is a usual state Among friends, colleagues and family Outside looking in Wondering, my thoughts wander People are in need Supporting and helping I do mean it Wondering if I really do Hypocrisy is an epidemic Me too, I guess Everyone it seems All wandering for meaning ...(continue on site) - Barton West |
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A Tree: The Story About Your Life |
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Saturated shades of green pressed up against the canvas of the crisp open air The beauty contrasting with the vast, empty, blue sky I stand and I marvel at wisdom formed into such beauty The adversity brought by storms and struggles you must have faced through drought, The moss that covets the scars inflicted by relentless windstorms, The rings that circle around your trunk showing your timeline through life's defining moments, The knots that show your visible imperfections coming together in breathtaking harmony, And the sap that cries, slowly down your bark ...(continue on site) - Casey Noack |
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Part III: The Impeccable Solve Rate of Dick and Bitch |
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Part III I had the perfect type of hungover. The kind when you’re shocked and grateful as all hell that you feel as fresh as you do, nausea riding your coattails, but not quite able to catch up. The kind where fresh air feels like a sigh of relief and every song is your favorite song. Add in that extra burst of energy knowing our murder weapon could be waiting patiently for us at the station and I felt unstoppable. “What a day to be alive, Dicky!” Dick wasn’t feeling as alive as I was, but perked up when I told him Jessie was bringing the knife by Emma’s. “Could be worse.” He agreed...(continue on site) - Emily Menges |
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30 Days Deep...Sometimes 31 |
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“For the next 1,000 nights, before you go to bed every night, read one short story..” - Ray Bradbury January 2021: Short Stories Galore The Commitment: Read one short story every night for the next 31 nights. (If you participate in the monthly challenges, tell us your revelations on the Letter to Editor page.) |
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