Contributors:

  • Aeesha Abdullahi Alhaji
  • Afsana Siddika
  • Ahana Chakrabartu
  • Ahmad Jasim
  • Akshat Pathak
  • Alex Blake
  • Alshaad Kara
  • Amelia Napiorkowski
  • Anita Green
  • Arthur Klepchukov
  • Ava Ermiger
  • Brenna Moore
  • Brittany Miles
  • Casca Dominiski

Contributors:

  • Ed Ahern
  • Laura Tóth
  • Liam Eichberg
  • Luchang Zhu
  • Nathaniel Thomas
  • Nick McArdle-Pearson
  • Racheal Strahlman
  • R. M Davenport
  • Rory Doherty
  • Samantha C Carleton
  • Sarah Goodell Gesior
  • Sheila Murphy
  • Shekina Oh
  • Shelby Fairbairn
  • Shriya Karnic
  • Stephen Mead
  • Sylvia Munoz
  • Tamizh Ponni
  • Taylor Hagood
  • Yi-Jung Chen
  • Yimi Lu
  • Liam Eichberg
  • Luchang Zhu
  • Nathaniel Thomas
  • Nick McArdle-Pearson
  • Racheal Strahlman
  • Charles Joseph Green
  • Christine Yurick
  • Cithara Patra
  • Claudia Kessel
  • Colin James
  • Cullen Corkery
  • Dave Hubble
  • Day
  • Dylan Marsan
  • Edward Thomas Herrera
  • Eirene Gentle
  • Feng Xianming
  • Gabriella Garofalo
  • Hibah Shabkhez
  • Ibrar Sami
  • J Nishida
  • Joey Porcelli
  • John Grey
  • John Repp
  • Kevin Heaney
  • Laura Tóth
  • Shriya Karnic
  • Stephen Mead
  • Sunitha Mary Mookken
  • Sylvia Munoz
  • Tamizh Ponni
  • Taylor Hagood
  • Yi-Jung Chen
  • Yimi Lu

Notes from the Editor in Chief:

Wintersweets have always occupied a significant place in Chinese literature. From Wang Anshi’s “The wintersweet blossoms at the corner of the wall, all alone in the chilly snowfall” to Li Qingzhao’s “In the snow, we already know that the tidings of spring have arrived; the cold-hardy wintersweet adorns the glossy, jade-like branches”, this unassuming flower has long stood as the symbol of fortitude in the face of adversity. And that is the flower our magazine has chosen to follow.

Also a flower of China, the peony blooms voluptuously, sprawling of vivid pink, earning it the title of national flower. It is the embodiment of splendor: a tapestry of wealth, honor, and imperial virtue. The wintersweet, in contrast, offers none of that. Its waxy, translucent petals are the color of pale moonlight; its fragrances are elusive and penetrating. It does not clamor for attention. That is why its admirers have always been people who found in its solitary bloom a mirror for their own principled defiance.

The peony stands for public glory while the wintersweet stands for private resilience. One dazzles the eye; the other steadies the soul. And for our magazine, which champions substance over spectacle, the choice is clear: we incline toward the branch that bends but never breaks, the flower that dares to bloom when all else sleeps.

Welcome to the first issue of Wintersweet Magazine!

— Olivia Wang, Editor in Chief