Meet The Editor #3: Leanne Rose Sowul

December Submission Theme: RHYTHM

Hi, We’re The Flashies, and We Want To Publish Your Work.

We’re a writing group devoted to flash CNF (creative nonfiction), and we’ve spent the last two years editing each other’s pieces while racking up publishing creds. We love working in flash— the electric way a single sentence, a single short paragraph, a single phrase can change the way you view yourself and the world in the span of a moment. We want to create more opportunities for short flash nonfiction in the literary world, and are excited to do so here.

The five of us will co-edit the In A Flash literary magazine here on Substack, each month publishing one piece of excellent creative nonfiction, written to theme, in 500 words or less. We’ll also spotlight the author with a Q&A section and lots of editorial compliments.

If you’re already excited about submitting, yay! Here’s a link to our submission guidelines. Our first submission period will be from October 1-15 on the theme of STILL. (Interpret as you will!)

If you’re already excited about reading, yay! Please subscribe and tell your friends.

Meet The Editor: Leanne Rose Sowul

Hi, I’m Leanne!

I’m so excited to be starting this venture with my Flashies sisters! This all started with a Facebook post in the Hippocamp Conference page two years ago, when I was feeling FOMO from missing the conference and wishing for a team of writing pals. I posted a query about forming a writing group focused on flash and got a ton of responses. Eventually, due to timing and commitments, we narrowed down to our current five members.

I’m looking forward to increased collaboration with my writing friends; reading exciting work from emerging and established writers; and adding to the community of people who love writing and reading with concision.

The Essay

For our first 5 posts, we’ll be introducing ourselves to you through our own flash writing. Here’s Leanne’s essay.

Through The Mirror

My daughter Eleanor— wobble-kneed, shiny tap shoes clanking— toddles into the dance studio for her first class and stands in the middle of the row, her pigtails swiveling as she takes in the scene: the other girls, the tutus, the mirrored wall, the wooden barre that’s just her height. She wiggles her hips back and forth, her gauzy purple skirt lifting in a breeze of her creation. Behind the one-way mirror that allows parents to observe, my throat contracts with a fierce emotion that I can’t release without attracting the attention of other dance moms, chatting casually with babies hitched on their hips and coffee cups in hand.

One of my wedding photos captures the moment my father first saw me in my wedding dress. As his chin comes to rest on my bare right shoulder, his hands circling my white-satin waist, the camera zooms on his face. His eyes are teary, his cheeks and forehead deeply creased under the strain of suppressed emotion. In the photo, the camera sees it all; I’m shielded by my dad’s right shoulder, just as the one-way mirror now shields me. 

Eleanor and the other girls are instructed to tap, tap, tap the floor to the beat of the music, then dig in their heels and “wave hello” with their toes. A few more minutes of tapping and they all run to change into their ballet slippers. Colorful scarves are handed out, and soon eight toddlers are scooting and twirling around the room to the ubiquitous strains of “Let it Go.” Eleanor throws her scarf into the air and laughs, then whirls around to follow another girl on her tiptoes. 

When Eleanor was still in utero, a series of ultrasounds diagnosed her with an internal birth defect. Inside her abdomen, a set of extra tubes started in her kidneys and led nowhere, putting her at risk for infections. At five months old, she had surgery to re-implant one tube; at fifteen months, a longer surgery to reconstruct her ureters and bladder. Her core strength shattered, she wasn’t yet walking. Our pediatrician suggested blood tests, neurologists, physical therapy. My husband and I watched, despairing, as our daughter continued to crawl through life. Would she walk? Would she run? 

When I was fourteen, I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Over the next few years, I underwent multiple surgeries and radioactive therapies. My parents watched, despairing, as I struggled. Would I go to college? Would I marry, have children of my own?

I watch my daughter tap, point and tumble, and I remember that photo of my dad. Ten years after cancer, his daughter stood before him in a white dress, a girl becoming a woman. A milestone met. I can feel it as he did: the past rushing up to meet him, gratitude choking his throat. 

My finger blots a tear my daughter will never see. Through the mirror, she twirls on.

A version of this piece was first published in Rappahannock Review. 

How This Essay Came To Be

It’s the best feeling when an essay just comes to you. It was summer 2019, and I was struggling with a flash piece for a themed contest, so my brain was thinking in short form already. As I watched my daughter dance that day, the idea for this essay popped into my brain, even though it had nothing to do with the other piece I was struggling with. I went home and wrote the first draft that night.

I’ve learned that if I keep my mind in a creative space— even if the thing I’m working on isn’t quite working yet— it’ll pay off in fresh ideas.

Here’s a Writing Prompt To Try

Choose a photo that includes a member of your family who is at least one generation older than you. Note the emotion or the situation surrounding the photo, and link it with stories from your own experience. How does the past inform the present? How do we, as humans, react to similar situations at different times? 

While polishing your piece, be sure to read it aloud in various ways. The cadence of a piece— the rhythmic component, if you will— is the heartbeat of beautiful writing.

Author Bio

Leanne Rose Sowul is an award-winning writer with publications in JuxtaProse, under the gum tree, Five Minutes, Hippocampus, etc. and performances with Read650 for Lincoln Center and Carnegie Hall. She’s also an elementary band teacher who has directed more than two hundred student performances and can play “Jingle Bells” on every band instrument. Follow and subscribe to her Substack, Good Character.

Submission Calls

Before submitting, please refer to our Submission Guidelines page. (We’ll be linking to it in every new post, don’t worry!)

From October 1-15, please submit pieces on the theme of STILL.

From November 1-15, please submit pieces on the theme of BODY.

From December 1-15, please submit pieces on the theme of RHYTHM.

From January 1-15, please submit pieces on the theme of DREAMS.