Submit to We'll Never Have Paris

I typically use my blog to do the following:

a) blab about traveling someplace cool (Egypt, Tanzania, Rwanda...and soon enough, Austria!)
b) blab about attending something cool (talks, readings, performances, etc.)
c) blab about books (hopefully more interesting book reviews than the ones we wrote in Middle School)
d) blab about blabbing (my attempts at creative writing)

What they all have in common, besides being pure blabble, is that magical moment when art and music and history and love and surprise and discovery come together -- on top of a mountain or in a climactic book chapter, in a perfectly crafted sentence, at a brilliantly executed play. And so it makes perfect sense that I should advertize my good friend Andria and her lovely zine, We'll Never Have Paris, right here, while I have your attention (whoever you are, you friendly, obliging blog reader, you).

We'll Never Have Paris, as its blog will tell you, contains narrative nonfiction 'for all things never meant to be'. It's a "NYC-based, print-only small press lit zine published twice a year." WNHP7 is on sale -- you may have seen them at Andria's and my reading at Angels and Kings in January -- and WHNP8 is looking for submissions! The upcoming zine's theme is Rejection. Andria writes:

It's cold and I'm broke. how about you? maybe this is a good time to write. send a submission to WNHP8 deadline is March 31. the theme is always nonfiction memoir 'all things never meant to be', but specific trigger for this issue is Rejection. send a rejection letter to you or from you. tell us how you never recovered not wining the lead role in the 3rd grade play.
neverhaveparis.blogspot.com or neverhaveparis@gmail.com

I stumbled across this zine at Bluestocking Bookstore in the Lower East Side around this time last year, submitted something on a whim, miraculously snuck into the zine and promptly found myself smack in the middle of this city's burgeoning zine culture. They're at book fairs, flea markets, on the radio and in little pubs all over town: pocket- or palm-sized packets of personally compiled works of art. How can one resist submitting to such an earnest creation?

So do it. C'mon. You've definitely been rejected at some point in your life, unless you're flawlessly flawless, in which case, you can write about rejecting rejection (and maybe Andria will reject you, just for good measure). You have until March 31st!