From the Editor
Dear Miscreants and Malcontents, Somehow, against all odds, we’ve managed to rope in a new associate editor, and you’re going to love her—at least as much as you can love a complete madwoman with ink-stained fingers and no sense of self-preservation. Leia John. Writer, poet, and all-around fucking lunatic. She’s the type who laughs at 2 a.m. over the state of the world, then sends out another line of poetry that'll punch you straight in the gut. She’s got that rare mix of grit and guts, the kind that doesn’t ask for permission to exist. You’re either with her or you’re dust in her rearview. When I say she’s a lunatic, I mean it with the highest praise. It takes a lunatic to keep up with this shipwreck of a literary world, a place where half the players are all noise and no fire. Leia, though? She's got fire to spare. She’ll throw her whole self into this place—teeth, bones, and the bleeding edges of her words. So here we are, handing her the keys to a chunk of this madhouse. Sh