Rachael Bohlander
The center cannot hold (gotta keep the devil down in the hole)
40in x 30in x 1.75in. Acrylic on paper on wood panel (2024)
Some plants take longer to bloom than others. Recently, the magnificent yet odiferous plant known as the “Corpse Flower” blossomed at the Botanical Gardens in New York City. The giant corpse flower, which takes years between its performances, is so-called because when it blooms, it releases a scent like rotting flesh, before its flower collapses after only a few days.
When I think of “bloom,” I don’t imagine rotting flesh, but something lovely coming to fruition. Still, corpse flowers are so precious because they remind us that even in the natural world, there are occurrences, however peculiar, that make their mark boldly. The corpse flower keeps us guessing, teases us with subversive notions of what a bloom can or should do.
As editors of this journal, we know the limits of a central metaphor, and do not wish to associate too intimately with the corpse flower. We would prefer in most instances to associate with cherry blossoms. Still, we admire the corpse flower’s stealthy yet daring existence, and this is something we would emulate, blooming daringly (and not always on schedule), but still worth the wait.
There’s frustration in anticipation, but satisfaction, too, when the blossom finally opens.
That’s all to say that we have been anticipating this issue for quite some time as we know so have some of our contributors and readers. The essays herein are striking, each in its own lovely and peculiar way, in the best speculative sense of that word, “peculiar.” Ultimately, we hope that this bloom both meets your expectations and challenges them equally.
We also want to take this opportunity to introduce Will McDonald, our new Managing Editor, and our Assistant Managing Editor, Olivia Roy.
Robin Hemley, Co-editor
February, 2025
We are happy to announce the theme for our next Issue #9:
Promise
Thank you and welcome to Speculative Nonfiction Viewing Season.
Consider the promise as widely as you can imagine. Promises made, promises lost, promises broken, promises never uttered, promises made mute by time, promises betrayed, promises reaffirmed.
Promise is one of the few words that has no direct opposite. It is not a Janus word, meaning two things at once. You can break a promise like a locket, but can a broken promise be repaired?
The Editors of Speculative Nonfiction
PROMISE
Rachael Bohlander
Turning point
68in x 48in x 1.5in. Acrylic on canvas (2024)
The Latin word for promise is promissum from “send forth” so ponder, imagine, explore
and send forth your promising speculations. We eagerly await them.
March 1 through June 15th
As always, please interpret this theme as you wish. To submit, click here.