Dear Readers,
Welcome to Issue IV: PANACEA.
This issue, more than anything, is a celebration of healing. To write is to find meaning beyond the mundane, to carve out fantasies in the unknown and maintain optimism when reality may appear startling different. Issue IV moves from more conventional notions of health, as depicted in "THE DOCTOR SAYS" by Grim Holliday, to a hauntingly visceral recount of family's importance in Laura Valeri's "The Last Day." Amid each of these tales, we find undeniable comfort in the small pleasures, whether it be the permanence of kinship or, as Helen Gwyn Jones's piece "NOT TO BE TAKEN" implies, panacea in the form of oblivion.
Thank you to our beloved readers and everyone who submitted to this issue. Your support means the world. And as always, thank you to our staff, whose dedication allowed this issue to blossom into existence. There aren't enough words to express how grateful I am. Please enjoy Issue IV.
Warmly,
Grace Zhang, EIC
The Lunar Journal
Welcome to Issue IV: PANACEA.
This issue, more than anything, is a celebration of healing. To write is to find meaning beyond the mundane, to carve out fantasies in the unknown and maintain optimism when reality may appear startling different. Issue IV moves from more conventional notions of health, as depicted in "THE DOCTOR SAYS" by Grim Holliday, to a hauntingly visceral recount of family's importance in Laura Valeri's "The Last Day." Amid each of these tales, we find undeniable comfort in the small pleasures, whether it be the permanence of kinship or, as Helen Gwyn Jones's piece "NOT TO BE TAKEN" implies, panacea in the form of oblivion.
Thank you to our beloved readers and everyone who submitted to this issue. Your support means the world. And as always, thank you to our staff, whose dedication allowed this issue to blossom into existence. There aren't enough words to express how grateful I am. Please enjoy Issue IV.
Warmly,
Grace Zhang, EIC
The Lunar Journal