As you read the January/February 2024 issue, I hope you reflect on your personal transitions and evolutions as writers and mothers, evaluating how far you’ve come and what you hope to learn as you continue writing and mothering. It’s a humbling journey, certainly, but one that comes with extraordinary and lasting life lessons.
Regular readers of Literary Mama will know that a typical issue includes only eight to ten poems. This special issue features 31 poems that touched us with their beauty, their honesty, or their unique approach to storytelling through verse. Consider them our December gift to you.
For the past 20 years, staff members have treated writers with kindness and respect, regardless of where they were on their writing journey. At Literary Mama, we love all mama writers and want them to shine. And shine they do.
Twenty years ago, a staff of volunteers began a magazine that insisted, against all literary odds, that the stories of mothers mattered. Now, narratives about motherhood are having a moment, in no small part because we have stubbornly inhabited the spaces of literature.
Literary Mama offers an encouraging reminder that our identities—as parents, as writers, as readers, as local or global contributors of whatever sort—aren’t predicated on incessant activity, or a checklist of accomplishments, or a certain definition of worthiness. Whatever this season is like for you, we hope you’ll find something heartening here to see you through to the next.
No matter whether your children are in the other room or miles away from you, I hope you can find a quiet place to sit down and immerse yourself in the words and musings of your fellow mothers. It is always such a joy to review each issue before we publish, and marvel at how Literary Mama editors across time zones select and polish such beautiful work.
We’re all here because of the mamas who originally got the gumption to create this journal and those who have kept it moving—online, free, and still powered by multifaceted mamas and mama supporters.
We are told to sync our lives with a calendar, only beginning at the start of the year, month, or a particular week. But, instead, why not allow ourselves to start when we feel the most ready? It’s liberating to know we can begin any time we decide. Permission isn’t needed. We hope that you give yourself space to pause and read the latest issue from Literary Mama and it pushes you to pen your novel, essay, or short story at the start of January—or even in February.
Practicing gratitude forces us to examine life through an altered lens, not unlike the fresh perspective that young children bring to our lives, unjaded as they are to the world around them. Stories in this issue of Literary Mama explore the many facets of gratitude: appreciation, awe, acceptance, and more.
Reframing our perceptions of the time we have to read, write, and think—to value the incredible and varied insights of mothers—is so worth it. We’re grateful and honored that you’re here to dip into this September/October collection of mama writing.
Although motherhood can restrict our view of the world, especially in the early years, it also expands our perspective and teaches us to look more deeply inward and more carefully outward—and to do more with what we see. That’s both empowering and humbling, and the work in our latest issue highlights that complex contradiction.