Hello, you beautiful bags of bones. It's been a long time coming, but it's finally here! We hope you'll accept this gift: a curation of lovely poems, stories, and essays, as well as this greasy sack of valentines from a motley crew of carrion birds.
A Note from Jacqueline: ...Whoa. I can't believe we're here. Months ago, when the four of us began discussing the vision for this magazine about a bird that celebrated the gross and beautiful and weird in all of us, I had no way of knowing just how readily all of you would move to answer the call. In this issue, you'll find work that engages with despair, with rage, with the body and spirit, with so much delicate, ugly beauty. But more than anything, you'll find curiosity and so, so much trust. I'm profoundly grateful to everyone who trusted us to be kind with their ugliness, who believed we would act on that trust in good faith. Our mission when we started this magazine was to create a space that made people trust that we cared, that their work, when thrust into the ether, would land safely in the rock and twig of our nest. Thank you for trusting us. Thank you for helping us grow. I hope you find something in this issue that you love.
A Note from Ashely: When we started this journal, I wanted to share pieces that found beauty in the unexpected and share the stories of places and people that are overlooked. The nonfiction pieces in this issue do just that and more: delving into the precariousness of basic necessities, of place, and life itself. As we continue growing this literary space, I hope we can do even more work uplifting marginalized people and their voices.
Most importantly, I want to thank everyone who submitted, shared, read, or otherwise supported our journal. We exist because and for you. I am deeply humbled to be able to share this small space with you all.
A Note from Julia: When I was invited to be on the Lammergeier masthead, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the whole experience, so like with most new experiences in my life, I worried about it. I worried the work would be stressful and unfulfilling. I worried it would ruin the relationships I had with Jacque, Ashely, and Ethan. I worried people wouldn’t take a chance on a new mag, that we’d see low-effort pieces writers couldn’t be bothered to send anywhere else. I’m happy to say that didn’t happen. This has been one of the most fulfilling experiences of my life, my friendships are stronger than ever, and best of all? The work we got was fucking awesome. I can’t wait for you to read it.
A Note From Ethan: My dream for creating a journal was to scavenge together beautiful things I’d only ever seen apart before. I wanted stories that took our reality and made it magical not through wizards or aliens but through sheer force of language. However, I also wanted the writing I’d seen in science fiction magazines and Ursula Le Guin novels that didn’t assume genre writing can’t be literary, and I wanted the hundred shades of realism between those extremes. And above all, I wanted new voices and new stories that hadn’t been told before, or at least not when many people were listening.
I didn’t know if I’d ever get to work on such a publication, but then there was a cascade of miracles. First, Ashely asked if I wanted to work with her on a journal, and she set the name Lammergeier to what we wanted to create. Then I saw how she and Jacque and Julia all had visions of their own, ones that mine could only benefit from joining, and then we started to receive work from writers that was actually greater than anything we’d hoped for, and then we had a journal somehow, and then, without warning, I had to write a note sharing my thoughts on this amazing thing that happened. And the most miraculous part of all of this is that we get to go right back and do it all over again. I’m so grateful to my fellow editors, to the authors who have trusted us with their work, and above all to you, whoever are, for reading this.