The current recession has taken its toll on arts organizations, and many of them have had to cut back programs, consolidate, or close outright. This is particularly true of grant-funded nonprofits, because grants are mainly supported by wealthy individuals and government, both of which have had to tighten purse strings. Newspapers and magazines are also in a freefall, with print circulation declining and on-line ads not able to make up the lost print advertising revenue. Book publishers are not in such dire straits, but sales have been stagnant or declining. So this was the rather distrait mood in which the Whistling Shade staff met for our yearly meeting. Over red wine and roast beef, we pondered the future of our young (8-year-old) journal and book publishing house.
The prospect for us is really not so very grim. We rely on no grants and have no employees, and newsprint is cheap. Our main challenge is time. With an all-volunteer staff and the extra responsibilities of book publishing, it is becoming more difficult to publish a quarterly literary journal in a timely manner; and I myself will be moving to California this fall for a year or so. Our solution (for now) is to publish Whistling Shade semi-annually. Submissions will now be managed by Dylan Garcia-Wahl (poetry) and Sten Johnson and Iris Key (fiction). I will still do the layout and web site. Our columnists and reviewers will still do their part, and distribution will be a communal effort.
So, welcome to the Spring/Summer issue of Whistling Shade. It is a bit longer than normal, representing as it does half a year of our life. Subscriptions will remain $8 per year, but that will be only two issues instead of four (current subscribers will still receive 4 issues in their subscription period—the period will simply be extended out). Other than that, you will find that little has changed with the Shade, though we may spiff the journal up a bit for the Fall/Winter issue. We hope Whistling Shade will continue to be the curious, eclectic lit journal you know and love—that it will be there, in the shadows of some cafe or library, waiting for its chance encounter with you, the reader.
- Joel Van Valin