Summer 2025
Issue No. 23: Power
Dear Reader,
Every time I sat down to write this Editor's note, I found myself intimidated by the task at hand. I was struck, as I often am, by the power that words can have. It's one of the reasons that people in precarious positions of power like to burn books. Ideas strike sparks in the mind, which can flame into full-fledged beliefs and feelings. Creative writing challenges us to think about the world around us, to think critically, and to consider the viewpoints of others. Stories engender empathy, and in a political climate where the two sides of the aisle feel so far apart, empathy is one of the most powerful tools we have to bring people together. To tell a story is to wield power in a way that only we as wordsmiths can.
When we chose the theme of Power for this issue, we did not do so lightly. We wanted people to really grapple with the idea of it, in all its forms: abuse of power, lack of power, both internal and external powers. Each piece in this issue was chosen by our editorial team because they embodied the theme in their own way. I hope that as you read this issue, you confront your own ideas about power and about the world. I hope you flex your empathy muscles. It’s one of the most powerful things you can do.
Sincerely,
Katie Blue-Pugh
Editor-in-Chief
This issue of Stonecoast Review is dedicated to
Zoe Kaplan,
whose warm presence touched us all
and who will be sorely missed.
Please consider donating to
The Zoe Sarah Kaplan Memorial Award
in her honor
Displacement
My mother didn’t have any brothers or sisters. I think that was part of the problem, why she didn’t know what to do with three children so close together. She’d never been a sibling, so she didn’t know how to handle it.
Bleeding Blue
Six feet inside the Glenn Street police station, Janice Newland jumped as a burst of red light blossomed in the air above her. A half-dozen pairs of red lips manifested, speaking in synch, which reminded her of the opening of Rocky Horror. “Welcome, exalted volunteer!”
What We Do
“The youngest kids’ swimming lessons always take place during the hottest part of the day,” Jess says while rubbing sunscreen on Chloe. She’s working on that little girl’s legs as if she’s the only thing standing between her and an early death. Oh, no one does sunscreen like ol’ Jess.