Why the New Creative Nonfiction Kicks Ass

brought to you by Crowd

Quality Trumps Literary Faux Pas

Not only did they set a theme of immortality (an obvious parallel to their manifesto of nonfiction's identity) in their new issue, but Creative Nonfiction also published a short essay on death. Of all topics, in all genres, death and love seem off limits to writers; but here, as if taking a breath from the rank of anecdotes and light verse often seen in millennial literary publishing, we see an essay on something very deeply human, on a subject we all face.

Often, I think, publishers are faced with good work that remians unpublished because of its subject. And, just as we see Todd May struggle with the paradox of death, namely that "We need death to give us meaning...," publishers struggle with offering, like the philosopher, a "solution to this paradox." Often the clichés surrounding death as a topic kill the solution, or the journey to a solution. Sometimes we ask if art can even be the solution. But this isn't my point.

The philosopher persona in May's "Teaching Death" keeps death fresh for the reader, giving new light to something we all think about, whether in dread or delight.

Their Editor Talks About Robots on
The Daily Show

This has no connection to the quality of the magazine whatsoever. It is just awesome. Straight, unadulterated awesome.

Creative Nonfiction

They Continue to Lead and Define the Genre

When the first issue of Creative Nonfiction arrived in 1993, I'm sure people didn't know what to think. Even today, writers and editors struggle with the difference between fiction and nonfiction—some claiming that everything written is fiction, others claiming we cannot write anything that isn't real (i.e. that even the imaginary impulses behind crazy sci-fi are real). Historically speaking, stories from Hemingway, Virginia Wolff, and (perhaps) even Tolstoy mask the identity of creative nonfiction.

I imagine the editors, originally, were looking to publish work that wasn't fiction or journalism, but something in-between. And since then, Creative Nonfiction has become a preeminent publishing resource for work that, now, flies off shelves. Today, major nonfiction writers still grace their pages.

They Don't Shy From Experimentation

Carolyn Forché's essay "The World Without Us: a Mediation" was new for me—not strip-mall new, but Ezra Pound new. Its seemingly disconnected strings of lament, description, and anecdote (some small enough to be Facebook updates) culminate into an accurate portrayal of day-to-day life. While this sounds dull, the outcome is very pleasurable and open to allusion, leaving the reader, much like the author, "heading into the open sea."

Their Design Feels Immortal as Their Theme

Taking the plunge into large-format printing is a daunting task for some publishers. Depending on the shelf, your journal could be hidden among the thousands of other large-format publications. But the bold, inventive, sophisticated, and attractive design of the new Creative Nonfiction stands apart from other magazines, setting a new bar for quality in literary publishing. Their red and black color scheme electrifies our senses from page to page. Their gilt typography astounds. In their new format, I am drooling over the thought of their next issue.

Creative Nonfiction was the first and is still the largest literary magazine to publish, exclusively and on a regular basis, high quality nonfiction prose. You can visit them online by clicking creativenonfiction.org.

Copyright © 2010, Zac and Kasey Publishing. This article/review originally appeared in the second issue of Crowd.