Coinciding with this issue is the release of our first print edition of The Summerset Review, a collection of fourteen stories and essays that have appeared in our little corner of the Internet since 2002.

Click here to learn more about it and how to get a copy for your very own. As you know, we're nonprofit, and all proceeds from sales will go back into our journal. We hope to put out future editions for years to come, and our decision to do this will be based, in part, on how well Volume One is received. Please join us in celebrating!

For anyone who may have gone to the Southwest / Texas Popular Culture Association / American Culture Association conference in Albuquerque, New Mexico on February 14-16, hoping to see us at the online literary journal panel discussion, we're very sorry. We tried, spending nine hours in LaGuardia Airport and three more in taxis to and from. The weather just wouldn't allow planes in and out of New York. We will keep you posted on future events. For one, we are certain to be at the usual haunt in June: the CLMP's annual book fair in Soho at The Housing Works. Unless there's more snow.

This online issue brings one essay and four short stories that we hope you will enjoy. The essay, by Nathan S. Webster, merges the writer's own experience in Iraq with that depicted in artwork of the painter, Steve Mumford. We're grateful to Postmaster's Gallery in New York for permission to show glimpses of four works which correlate nicely to Webster's piece entitled, "Steve Mumford's Iraq, and Mine."

Several troubling elements play off one another in Olivia Kate Cerrone's story, "Babydoll." We found ourselves sympathetic with the narrator of this story, working to rationalize everything she says and does. In "Kissing the Dog-Faced Boy," we visit sideshow tents in a traveling carnival, and some of the relationships going on there among the multi-faceted characters. Kelly Jameson transforms the brick and mortar walls of a bar into red velvet and an aurora borealis in her story of an exotic dancer, "French Accents." And Ron Savage's "Little Gypsies," set in Venice, combines elements of spousal loss and petty crime to bring a touching story of resolve and fortitude.

Our Lit Pick of the Quarter this time is an essay, "Tell Me Again Who Are You?" by Heather Sellers, appearing in the Fall and Winter 2006 issue of Alaska Quarterly Review. The piece is included in a book of creative nonfiction she is completing, titled Face First, and revolves around a condition called  prosopagnosiaa difficulty of recognizing faces. The narration is stylish and at times you will find yourself working hard to understand and follow along, but we found this effect made it all the more pleasing. Here are several excerpts:

    For the test, my body and brain are wedged in this white plastic MRI tube in a dark room in a dusty lab by a navy yard. My arms are pinned at my sides, and my face is in a white plastic cage with metal wires, stuffed with packing material, sponges in this case, lodged all around my face.
    I could be shipped to the Alps.
    Mark me fragile.
    The test is called Same Different. Same Different is created by a neuroscientist, tiny slim Galit Yovel. She keeps popping in to check on me.

. . .

    But then I got married. Fast, at nearly forty years of age, and I couldn't recognize this man, at the grocery store, wrong man, at the races, 5Ks we ran together, only not together. Dave is fast, and kind, and he said, "I don't think you can tell people apart."

. . .

    There is no diagnosis code for the inability to recognize other humans.
    The science literature says prosopagnosia is extremely rare, usually caused by a stroke or injury to the head.
    You pronouce it like this: pro. Like you are for something. Soap. Nice and clean. You are for cleanliness.
    Agnosia, there's a lot of those, that's the easy part. It's any kind of not-knowing. Not knowing, well, it's even more common than knowing.
    Think: agnostic.

. . .

    On the bus, I do not want to be seen. No girl, I believe, does. I want to make up a whole new life. Don't look at me now while I am trying to do that.

The Summerset Review
Joseph Levens Editor
Amy Leigh Owen Assistant Editor
A literary journal released quarterly on the 15th of March, June, September, and December on the Internet, and periodically in print form. Founded in 2002, the journal is devoted to the review and publication of unsolicited short stories and essays.

All correspondence and submissions should be emailed to Postal mailing address: 25 Summerset Drive, Smithtown, New York 11787, USA.

This publication is made possible, in part, with a grant from the Council of Literary Magazines and Presses (CLMP), supported by public funds from the New York State Council on the Arts (NYSCA), a state agency. We are very thankful for the support and encouragement these organizations have given our journal and the literary community.

The Summerset Review is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization, incorporated in New York State.

ISSN 1933-7175

Theme graphics: "Ink" Copyright The Summerset Review, Inc. 2007.