“1. I’ll start with the petty: the spelling, the grammar, the incorrect dates, etc. I was not sure whether it would ever hold up in court. I asked him if he didn’t want to at least correct the spelling of my name. He said it was fine. The DMV wouldn’t accept it for a number of reasons, which led to other complications. He told me many times that he was unable to spell because he had once been a lifeguard. “

Joseph Rein, contributor in issue 33.2 of The Pinch, has some exciting news this March. Not only is his first feature-length film being released, but so is his first short story collection Roads Without Houses. We spoke to him about his upcoming works, his writing background, and which fictional world he'd choose to live in.

We recently talked to Emily Rose Cole. She just released her new chapbook composed of persona poems, Love & a Loaded Gun, from Minerva Rising Press. One of the poems from the book, "Persephone Returns," was first published in The Pinch 37.1 (as "Self-Portrait of Persephone Returning").

Past contributor Erin Adair-Hodges has a new book out from Pitt Poetry Series. Let's All Die Happy was the winner of the 2016 Agnes Lynch Starrett prize. Two of the poems from the new book, "I Would Have Listened to Rush" and "Ode to my Dishwasher," first appeared in issue 35.2 of The Pinch. 

“If someone would have just cleaned it up, it would taken five seconds and we could all have gotten back to work. But, of course, if someone had just cleaned it up we would be living in an alternate universe in which the people who work in this office are competent, considerate, and capable of operating something with as many moving parts as a fucking sponge.”

“one or two sentences from the essay”

Poetry: Caylin Capra-Thomas, Jennifer Richter, Stephen Cramer, Siarra Freeman, Sarah Cedeño, Xandria Phillips, Owen McLeod, David Kirby, Stephanie Rogers, Natalie Homer, Amorak Huey, Raye Hendrix, Lauren Bolton, Amanda Rachelle Warren, Sierra Golden, Elizabeth Onusko, Kate Asche, Jacob Lindberg, Marco Yan, Sara Lupita Olivares, SM Stubbs, Christine Hamm, and Sonia Greenfield.

Fiction: Nancy Au, Jean Burnet, Louise Marburg, Sam Martone, Ann Stewart McBee, and Jenn Powers

Creative Nonfiction: Amber Taliancich Allen, Claire Polders, Brian Oliu, Beth Peterson, Beth Roddy, Kathryn M. Barber, and Zach Sheneman

Visual Art: Angelika Arendt, Loren Britton, Emily Mae Smith, Clare Gatto, Lisa Sanditz, Anna Werwhein, Camilo Restrepo, Sara Faux, Erin Anfinson, Lani Asuncion, Laura Kraay, and Erica McCarrens

Hunter Choate's story "Mirror Box" was recently listed as a Distinguished Story in The Best American Short Stories 2017. The story first appeared in issue 36.1 of The Pinch, and it captivated our staff with its flawless writing and powerful storytelling. Recently, we spoke with Hunter about how it felt to receive this distinction, as well as what inspires his stories, and where his writing's headed next.

 “Sometimes  the  mundane things are themost helpful.  A bigger stage and better equipment.  Trajectories and linesof  flight.  More  silence. “

In 2007, Brad Aaron Modlin won second place in The Pinch's  River City Writing Award in Poetry with his poem, “What You Missed That Day You Were Absent from Fourth Grade." The poem recently went viral, so we asked Brad a few questions about his writing, his views on social media, and his connection to poetry.

“or they fall out with the barest pressure, when i apply lipstick or when i brush them, when i touch the gum line it gives like bubble yum soft and wet but no stick my mouth a plump soil overrun with hard teeth my words must grow around, i gather them until my mouth is lush, i throw them into the sky like rice at a wedding”

“If there’s an online petition, sign, comment, and send as a private message to friends who should be more aware of important issues. Persist in commenting and sharing until weak from hunger, it’s time to go to Mr. Holmes Bakehouse for a midmorning croissant.”

“Owl unlocked the door before the sun rose, started the coffee, hot dog roller, and pizza lamp, mopped the floor, flipped the sign, stood behind the register in a cocoon of cigarette cartons, sweet tobacco behind its barrier of cellophane, a cold plastic spike through the nose.”

“ Autopay & deposits in my knuckles, fingers filled with shards of angry bones. Whipped not buttercreamed. Short on the sides & back. High & tight. A fraction of a percentage. Same difference. One size fits & starts, fits some but not all. Batteries & piggy banks & bottled water, pickled & canned. Nothing missed: a six pence, a threepenny opera, an ounce of blow, of gold, of plug nickels, of dollars penniless down to the cent. “