Review: Literary Juice Magazine
A Review of Literary Juice Magazine
The website, then, is the second impression. Literary Juice, a purely online journal, has a very simple black-and-white website, easy to navigate and with extremely little (if any) clutter. The title is prominent, as are navigation links around the site. At the bottom are options to share Literary Juice around the web, such as Facebook or Reddit, but they are unobtrusive and even add a little color to the homepage. Readers are not bombarded with information at any page, even the lengthier Submissions page. Submission guidelines are clearly and succinctly outlined, and I found myself with no questions after reading through them. The text is large and easy enough to read (and in a nice, unassuming Times New Roman), including the small-print authors’ biographies at the bottom of every piece. The one problem I have with the website format is that, because it runs on Flash, you cannot open new tabs after right-clicking. As a tab-lover, I find this a little annoying. However, if this was a purposeful limit to the website, I could understand the choice because without opening tens of tabs of literature, the reader is forced to focus on a single piece of writing (or a couple of poems) at a time, thus increasing the amount of attention paid to each piece. Still, it can get a little tedious to continually go back a page to click through to the next piece.
Yet, it’s worth it. The journal features short fiction, flash fiction, pulp fiction, and poetry, and the editors hold contests every once in a while. I must have read over thirty works and almost all of them held my attention. I am less interested in poetry, and pulp fiction has to work hard to impress me, but a few pieces of each in Literary Juice seemed high quality to me. As for flash and short fiction, every story I read gave me pause by the end. Each work is short (2,500 words maximum), so the journal is nice to read for short sessions when you only have a few minutes to spare, or you can spend time reading as many pieces as you like. Each piece can be humorous, quirky, dark… all are unique. Honestly, I had a hard time narrowing down my list of pieces to review, and I still settled with five. (I think I can narrow it further to three, though.)
The first, in the short fiction category, was a poem titled “Where the Voices Roam,” by Joel Bonner. I call this a poem though it isn’t in the poetry section because it is split into rhyming couplets with ample amounts of alliteration and assonance. Yet the fiction is formed with complete, proper sentences, and it tells one succinct story. It is one thing to write a piece of good prose, another to write a good poem, but it requires great skill to combine the two in a way that feels natural; Bonner does this with aplomb. The story follows a young boy, who has a missing mother, a hateful father, and a wooden duck, through a journey to find contentment and even, perhaps, real happiness. Six lines I found particularly well-written, with strong imagery and which tugged at my emotions, came near the beginning:
“One day, the boy closed the door ever too harshly and sparked his father’s attention.
by Mallorie Kaskubar
The first thing that struck me about Literary Juice was its title. Of course, that’s the point, isn’t it? But it’s an interesting title because it makes you think: what does it mean? What’s the juice? What makes the juice literary? For a simple title to start you thinking, it’s impressive. It references the phrase “get your juices going,” meaning “start thinking,” or, even better, “get creative.” Creativity in a literary journal - it’s a great start!
The first thing that struck me about Literary Juice was its title. Of course, that’s the point, isn’t it? But it’s an interesting title because it makes you think: what does it mean? What’s the juice? What makes the juice literary? For a simple title to start you thinking, it’s impressive. It references the phrase “get your juices going,” meaning “start thinking,” or, even better, “get creative.” Creativity in a literary journal - it’s a great start!
The website, then, is the second impression. Literary Juice, a purely online journal, has a very simple black-and-white website, easy to navigate and with extremely little (if any) clutter. The title is prominent, as are navigation links around the site. At the bottom are options to share Literary Juice around the web, such as Facebook or Reddit, but they are unobtrusive and even add a little color to the homepage. Readers are not bombarded with information at any page, even the lengthier Submissions page. Submission guidelines are clearly and succinctly outlined, and I found myself with no questions after reading through them. The text is large and easy enough to read (and in a nice, unassuming Times New Roman), including the small-print authors’ biographies at the bottom of every piece. The one problem I have with the website format is that, because it runs on Flash, you cannot open new tabs after right-clicking. As a tab-lover, I find this a little annoying. However, if this was a purposeful limit to the website, I could understand the choice because without opening tens of tabs of literature, the reader is forced to focus on a single piece of writing (or a couple of poems) at a time, thus increasing the amount of attention paid to each piece. Still, it can get a little tedious to continually go back a page to click through to the next piece.
Yet, it’s worth it. The journal features short fiction, flash fiction, pulp fiction, and poetry, and the editors hold contests every once in a while. I must have read over thirty works and almost all of them held my attention. I am less interested in poetry, and pulp fiction has to work hard to impress me, but a few pieces of each in Literary Juice seemed high quality to me. As for flash and short fiction, every story I read gave me pause by the end. Each work is short (2,500 words maximum), so the journal is nice to read for short sessions when you only have a few minutes to spare, or you can spend time reading as many pieces as you like. Each piece can be humorous, quirky, dark… all are unique. Honestly, I had a hard time narrowing down my list of pieces to review, and I still settled with five. (I think I can narrow it further to three, though.)
The first, in the short fiction category, was a poem titled “Where the Voices Roam,” by Joel Bonner. I call this a poem though it isn’t in the poetry section because it is split into rhyming couplets with ample amounts of alliteration and assonance. Yet the fiction is formed with complete, proper sentences, and it tells one succinct story. It is one thing to write a piece of good prose, another to write a good poem, but it requires great skill to combine the two in a way that feels natural; Bonner does this with aplomb. The story follows a young boy, who has a missing mother, a hateful father, and a wooden duck, through a journey to find contentment and even, perhaps, real happiness. Six lines I found particularly well-written, with strong imagery and which tugged at my emotions, came near the beginning:
“One day, the boy closed the door ever too harshly and sparked his father’s attention.
The putrid mass whirled around in surprise, his focus
broken from the television.
His bitter, red eyes pierced the boy as he interrogated
him, asking where he’d been.
“I was only at school, father,” the boy feebly replied,
fighting the fear he held within.
His vile father scoffed at the response. Where the boy
had been he did not truly care.
He turned back around and sunk into his repugnant
reclining chair.”[1]
This section of the story is spent describing the boy’s terrible life, and this is just about his lowest point. (The rest of the poem is about the change in the boy’s life.) Each sentence, and each line, is a masterful display of language which Bonner uses to weave a wonderful story of a broken boy and a stunning spirit.
The flash fiction, “Dear Santa,” by Madison Levine, exhibits high quality writing in the form of parallels and metaphors. At Christmas-time a young girl, Abigail, accidentally breaks an ornament of a wedded couple and, after being unable to fix it herself, asks Santa to “Please fix [her] parents.”[2] Throughout the story, her fighting parents are heard yelling in another part of the house. This flash fiction does an excellent job of explaining little Abigail’s situation and comparing the futility of her efforts to fix her “parents” to her inability to change the turbulent relationship between her parents. Levine’s story also displays the classic child’s hope that Santa Claus, that magical man of jolliness and goodness, can make everything better. The prose is poignant and full, and I was left with an ache for poor little Abigail after only 269 words.
Another flash fiction story, with 292 words, is titled “The Button” and was written by S. McGibboney. Though there are no quotation marks and it is all in a single paragraph, the story very early on becomes obvious as a dialogue. Yet the dialogue is easy to follow and the two characters are clearly distinct - that is, until the last two sentences. The story of a mouse with a button in its mouth is intriguing, if a little sad or even gross, and the two characters discuss (in a way) the importance of such an event and the fact that one speaker is searching for the button. Yet the last two sentences, “I’m leaving. And you’re stupid,”[3] could be from either character, and it matters who said it, or if they both said one sentence, and in which order. The first time I read them, I thought it was the first speaker, the one searching for the lost button, but the more I read it, the more it sounds like the opposite. The ambiguity leaves the reader (leaves me) wanting to know a little more. Does the first speaker ever find the button, anyway? If the skeptical speaker called the button-searcher stupid, what was the searcher’s response (or vice versa)? McGibboney does a good job of weaving everyday dialogue into a captivating tale leaving readers wanting more.
This section of the story is spent describing the boy’s terrible life, and this is just about his lowest point. (The rest of the poem is about the change in the boy’s life.) Each sentence, and each line, is a masterful display of language which Bonner uses to weave a wonderful story of a broken boy and a stunning spirit.
The flash fiction, “Dear Santa,” by Madison Levine, exhibits high quality writing in the form of parallels and metaphors. At Christmas-time a young girl, Abigail, accidentally breaks an ornament of a wedded couple and, after being unable to fix it herself, asks Santa to “Please fix [her] parents.”[2] Throughout the story, her fighting parents are heard yelling in another part of the house. This flash fiction does an excellent job of explaining little Abigail’s situation and comparing the futility of her efforts to fix her “parents” to her inability to change the turbulent relationship between her parents. Levine’s story also displays the classic child’s hope that Santa Claus, that magical man of jolliness and goodness, can make everything better. The prose is poignant and full, and I was left with an ache for poor little Abigail after only 269 words.
Another flash fiction story, with 292 words, is titled “The Button” and was written by S. McGibboney. Though there are no quotation marks and it is all in a single paragraph, the story very early on becomes obvious as a dialogue. Yet the dialogue is easy to follow and the two characters are clearly distinct - that is, until the last two sentences. The story of a mouse with a button in its mouth is intriguing, if a little sad or even gross, and the two characters discuss (in a way) the importance of such an event and the fact that one speaker is searching for the button. Yet the last two sentences, “I’m leaving. And you’re stupid,”[3] could be from either character, and it matters who said it, or if they both said one sentence, and in which order. The first time I read them, I thought it was the first speaker, the one searching for the lost button, but the more I read it, the more it sounds like the opposite. The ambiguity leaves the reader (leaves me) wanting to know a little more. Does the first speaker ever find the button, anyway? If the skeptical speaker called the button-searcher stupid, what was the searcher’s response (or vice versa)? McGibboney does a good job of weaving everyday dialogue into a captivating tale leaving readers wanting more.
Honorable
mentions go to the short fiction, “The Lament of the Dish,”[4] and the pulp fiction, “Leverage.”[5] The first offered a new, more
adult look at the classic nursery rhyme about cows jumping over moons and
dishes running away with spoons, and the second is an intelligent and humorous
glance at a marketplace barter.
So, to summarize: for website style, I would give Literary Juice 9/10. It would be nice to open new tabs on the website with one right-click, but overall the entire website works well. For work featured: 10/10. Not a single piece I read disappointed, and each had its own unique style. For genres of work featured: 10/10. Short enough prose to read in a few minutes, and even some genres not usually published (flash and pulp fiction), providing a new angle to literature. Overall: 10/10. I know I’ll be bookmarking their website to read new works every issue.
So, to summarize: for website style, I would give Literary Juice 9/10. It would be nice to open new tabs on the website with one right-click, but overall the entire website works well. For work featured: 10/10. Not a single piece I read disappointed, and each had its own unique style. For genres of work featured: 10/10. Short enough prose to read in a few minutes, and even some genres not usually published (flash and pulp fiction), providing a new angle to literature. Overall: 10/10. I know I’ll be bookmarking their website to read new works every issue.
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