I’m packing for #AWP2019 and stocking my suitcase with plenty of Atticus Review Print Annuals to prettify and beautify our table. I have a good feeling about 2019. I wrote about this in the letter of introduction to our latest Print Annual. I’m re-printing that letter below in case you want to nerd out on some numerology talk. I hope you’ll make our table (9044) one of your stops at the bookfair! Come chat with us! We hope we can be your Oasis of Calm. During certain hours, which we’ll announce on Twitter, there will even be psychic-healing sessions… more on that later. -David
Letter from the Editor, Print Annual Volume 2
Probably any self-respecting editor would use this space to reflect on literature, or some aspect of the literary world. Instead, I’m going to talk about numbers. What’s worse, I’m going to talk about numerology, because by all numerological accounts (or accounting?) having to do with the interpretation of dates, 2019 should add up to be a promising year, not only for Atticus Review, but for our country, maybe the world.
Even though I’m a word person, I have always liked numbers. I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily good at them, but I’m not terrible at them, either. I usually earned good grades in algebra and calculus. But while I more or less understood the mechanics of it, doing calculations always felt meaningless to me in the existential sense. I’m sure many of you can relate.
Philosophy, however, has always triggered the right synapses in my brain parts, and I started appreciating math more when I realized that the two subjects had logic in common. Philosophy is about solving problems of reality, of consciousness, of knowing. All problems of knowing are essentially problems of language (we can’t answer a problem if we don’t have the language to do so), and sometimes that language is the language of numbers. General relativity, founded in equations, led to a change in the way we think of reality. The Fibonacci Sequence and The Golden Ratio seem to have some kind of deep existential meaning for our planet and the universe, even though nobody quite knows what it is.
Making a leap from mathematics to numerology might seem a bit, well…woo woo. But when you’re home alone on a Saturday night re-watching Mad Men episodes and trying to make sense of the world and your life, the latter can make for some compelling reading. Or so I’ve been told.
In numerology, 2019 is a “Universal 3 Year.” You arrive at a “universal number” for a given year by adding each individual number of that year together until you are only left with one.
So, for 2019 it is: 2 + 0 + 1 + 9 = 12 = 1 + 2 = 3.
According to several different web sites I referenced, a Universal 3 Year is one of joy, creativity, self-expression, vulnerability, emotional sensitivity, optimism, and social engagement.
Coming on the heels of the year we just had, that sounds pretty good, right?
I’ve thought a lot about vulnerability this last year. I believe being vulnerable is how we can find answers — about ourselves, about others, about our world. A willingness to be vulnerable in writing is what leads to the good stuff. It’s what we look for at Atticus Review. And I have to say that I’ve noticed an increased amount of it in our submissions, something that is reflected in this Volume 2 of our Print Annual.
So look, I don’t want to jump to conclusions or anything, but I’d have to say that if this magazine is any indication — and why wouldn’t it be? — there seems to be some truth in numerology. You heard it here first.
I want to thank the hard-working and dedicated volunteer staff at Atticus Review for the personality and vision they bring to the journal every week. And thank you to everybody who has supported us, either by submitting great work, contributing financially, or both. Your support has not only kept our online magazine running, but has allowed us to produce this Print Annual for the second year. We think you will enjoy this issue. In it, you’ll find a great cross-section of work we’ve published online over the past year or so.
And as always, thanks for reading. We’re glad you’re here.
Publisher & Editor-in-Chief