Editor’s Note

At some point I decided that I’m not going to be a writer.  Reading amazing works of literature was incredibly rewarding, but it came with a cost: how could I ever write anything that would compare?  I felt that every idea for a story, every line I conjured in my head, and every character I imagined, were all derivative, a pale imitation stitched from the texts of my betters.  If that wasn’t enough, I shuddered at the thought of the world criticizing my work, perhaps unfairly dismissing it as worthless, exactly as I had done so often.

Not until after I finished my degree, did I realize that I lacked forgiveness.  I needed to forgive the new flaws I found, so different and glaring in comparison to  the flaws in writings of the past, which we’ve all learned to embrace or ignore.  And once that happened, the experience was incredibly freeing.   I allowed myself to enjoy a Beyoncé song, a Buffy TV episode, or a teenage movie, without guilt.  I recognized the value in each one – how they brought a smile to my face, recalled a distant memory, or moved me to tears.  I appreciated the freshness, the new complexities, and the original voices that I discovered.  The world seemed infinitely richer.

Despite my progress, I’m still not brave enough to attempt writing myself.  I applaud the writers of this issue for their resolve to write and for their courage in the face of criticism.   But above all, I congratulate them for the great work they share with us – interesting, fresh, original, and truly moving.

Enjoy.

Yoni Heiblum, Editor.

Editor’s Note

We all have our secret moments. Moments in which we disappear into our own world, floating on a little white (or black) cloud that lingers in our thoughts. If only we could stay there for just one moment, before reluctantly returning to the mundane routine of our bustling lives. What if you could find a way to capture that moment? What if your personal narrative suddenly came alive, bearing your signature mark, your voice, your magic? And they can. That is what writing is all about, whether it is prose, poetry, fiction, or non-fiction. On the one hand, you could say that your thoughts are better off locked inside your mind, rather than immortalized on paper. On the other hand, a brave (or tremendously foolish) chap once said: “no guts, no glory.”

I would like to take this opportunity to thank those of you who were brave enough to share some of these secret moments with the readers of this edition of Writer’s Ink, and free our minds from the metaphorical lock.

Netta Granit, Editor.   

Editor’s Note

In your first, or maybe second, creative writing workshop (should you ever attend one) the phrase “show us – don’t tell us” will usually be thrown at you. A short, yet very dense, piece of advice.  I can personally testify, however, that it was only upon my first introduction to Japanese Haiku that I finally grasped what possibilites were made available by following it. The haiku (albeit by Jack Kerouac) pointed me towards a vast and unimaginable realm of reading and writing, to a poetic economy and a minimalism so lucid and breathtaking, it dazzled me.

I believe it is no coincidence that virtually every piece we have collected and present to you in this issue is poetry. Subtlety, musicality, and an attentive sensibility render an image and an impact deeper then you might initially expect. Though poetry, in the end, will always return to a similar source –  sometimes spontaneous, sometimes carefully analyzed and crafted, meditations on life – there is much to be said about the poetry of the Far East. And in the name of economy, I will try to let this collection, Writer’s Ink Issue 5: The Far East, speak on its own behalf.

Ahuva Goldstand, Editor in Chief

Editor’s Note

The secret is that anyone can be a writer.

It’s not like sculpting, painting or playing the piano where one needs a unique skill. All it takes is putting a few words together, in the right order. We all know the words, we use them everyday. No one has to be Shakespeare, inventing words left and right. That’s a possibility, but only one of many.

True writers, those who discovered the secret, much like the painters, sculptors and pianists, are both artists and artisans. Art requires skill, it requires practice and it requires dedication. What sets writers off from the rest of the artist community is the simple fact that their tools – words, sentences and paragraphs – are readily available. You just have to roll up your sleeves and get to work.

Presented here are a few people who did just that.

Enjoy.

Itai Rosenbaum, Editor in Chief

Editor’s Note

If you ask a writer, he or she will tell you there is no such thing as finished work. Write, rewrite, revise it, and rewrite it again; an endless cycle of alterations, modifications, changes and reconsiderations. As any good artist will tell you, each work produced contains a little piece of the artist’s soul, revealing them, exposing them for all the world to see. In a sense, they are their work. If so, then as the soul ever evolves, as the artist does, so too must the art. The problem which then arises is that a work of art can never truly be completed. Right?

Right and wrong. While an artist’s art will for ever remain a work-in-progress it is the air of finality which publishing lends a short story, a poem, or a novel, that allows one the luxury of taking a moment of reflection and satisfaction in looking back. Not so much resting on our laurels, but rather taking a hiatus in which to learn, develop and rejuvenate. Publishing is not the sign of a conclusion, rather an important milestone on the road to perfection.

We hope you continue along with us on our journey.

Enjoy.

Ahuva Goldstand, Editor in Chief

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Editor’s Note

They say there’s a first time for everything. What they constantly forget is that if you enjoyed that first time, you’d probably do it again. When the second time comes around, you already know what you’re doing so you’re more secure, wiser. You’ve learned from your mistakes and any screw ups that may have happened the first time around are gone. And so we bring the second issue of Writer’s Ink. We learned, we grew, we evolved. The greatness of the first issue still retains that original spark, sure. That spark, however, has been tended, fed fresh kindling and is slowly turning into a blaze. Who knows, by issue 10, we’ll have a wildfire on our hands.

Enjoy.

Itai Rosenbaum, Editor in Chief

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Editors’ Note

Welcome to the first of edition of Writer’s Ink.

We are proud and excited to see this journal published and wish to thank all who have had a hand in making this possible.

Much can be said in way of an introduction but we believe the works beyond this page speak for themselves.

Enjoy.

Ahuva Goldstand

Itai Rosenbaum

Co-Founders and Editors in Chief

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