According to the Encyclopedia Britannica, in the ancient art of shadow play, "Flat images are manipulated by the puppeteers between a bright light and a translucent screen on the other side of which sits the audience." It was the perfect metaphor, and the perfect name for our new journal. The author is the puppeteer who manipulates the puppets, which are the words used to tell the story. Whereas the audience at a shadow play watches the story unfold on a screen, our readers would watch the author's words come alive on the pages of the Shadowplay journal. Perhaps the most important element is the light that must be present for a shadow play to be visible. For us the light illuminates the meaning the author seeks to convey.

After we shared our vision of this magazine, the authors that you will find on the following pages began their own shadow play-one of craft, surprising and intimate. There are soft and drunken nights juxtaposed with tragic, unforgettable mornings. There are unexpected kisses, empty bottles, garden bubbles, and shots of lidocaine. Mark McDonnell's "Winter Breathes" paints a scene of nostalgia, warmth, and thirst for the first snowfall: "Rum-stoked soon, we'll sing. / Heartclutched, muffled throats / will swell for childhood." Meanwhile, DeAnn Jordan's "September 14, 2001" unearths the silent burn of hungry disease, the pain of forgetting: "Her eyes widened, then blanked, the question of my name a solid shape between us." We asked for moments unseen and these authors answered in ways that both comfort and grieve, often at the same time. We at Shadowplay hope that you enjoy, savor, and learn something about yourself from this vulnerable dichotomy.

Jonelle Grace Lipscomb
Christian Chase Garner
The Editors of Shadowplay