That’s when he realized they did have something unique in Tempe: absolutely wretched pigeons.

Throughout this complex yet accessible book, nested stories, a grand celebration of art, and myriad teeth abound.

Weird is when something familiar shifts just enough that you suddenly notice the structure underneath it.

Zander’s work allows collaborators to reclaim this history and integrate their personal mythology into their understanding of themselves.

I hope that they too learn to long for liberation from the tyranny of the individualised form and to return to the singular soup of being. 

Do you think about your reader? All the time. I hope they’re doing okay. Have you been taking enough time for yourself?

The stories in this issue speak directly to our weird, intuitive selves.

We editors here at Weird Lit Mag are preparing for a week of literary shenanigans.

Have you seen a ghost before? No, but I’ve smelled one.

Be intentional about the media you consume while you’re creating, and don’t be afraid of experimenting.

What really matters to me is that my work is unmistakably me.

I think absurdity is a way to retreat from the realities of the world while also shining a light on them. It’s also just fun.

I’d sit by any campfire I could find and I wouldn’t tell anyone my name.

I would be the sentient molecules of spilled beer that has calcified into the concrete floor of Baltimore punk venue Ottobar, nameless and older than time.

I think there is something like a creative force inside us. It manifests in various ways. It can be suppressed but like a water gusher, it cannot be held down.

I’ve always known [I was weird]. It’s only recently I’ve realized that’s pretty cool.

Life is a leathery orange sphere that flies out of bounds and clunks you on the head. 

Ah, winter. How my goth heart loves thee. It’s a time for doom metal and ceremony. Candlelit nights and snow-muffled reflections on the year’s gifts and tolls alike. Nature tightens her death grip, freezing lakes and frosting noses. She wraps us in darkness and dares us to dream. 

One summer I collected cicada exoskeletons in an empty coffee can, then went around the neighborhood attaching them to people’s screen doors in pleasing geometric patterns.

I do hope readers are left with just a bit more audacity to lean into the weird in their own lives.

We all lose control, at some point or another, of the shape and momentum of our lives.

I think it’s in our nature as people, or maybe as writers, to be self-critical. You have to be able to be self-critical to get better, but I think you also have to be a bit delusional.

My closet is intentionally organized according to the Second Law of Thermodynamics, and all the objects contained within it are ruled by entropy. Nonetheless, an uninformed observer viewing my closet may overlook the science and call me a slob.

Many believe that weeds exist because of the cracks in the pavement, when in reality we are the ones who cause them. Here's how you slowly crack the system: take care of your roots, train your resilience, grow inconspicuously, be with many.