Editorial Excerpt

A FLOWERING OF WOMEN’S VOICES

CALYX EDITORS

When CALYX was founded in 1976, the four founders—Barbara Baldwin,

Meredith Jenkins, Beth McLagan, and I—believed that a female aesthetic

in literature and art existed and that it could be better seen and

nurtured by publishing women’s work in the context of other women’s work.

We named the journal CALYX—the protective covering on the flower bud.

We envisioned CALYX as the cup allowing the blossoming of women’s

imagery that would bear fruit and bring forth new life.

         In the past, women’s creative work was often rendered invisible or

impotent—through lack of documentation or loss or misrepresentation or,

most commonly, through rejection and miscomprehension. But in 1976 the

founders of CALYX believed the world was changing and were sure women’s

art and literature would be accepted into the mainstream and given equal

status and that the need for CALYX would be short-lived. But here we are

celebrating three decades of publishing, and the statistics for women are

only slightly improved. In the past twenty years the number of women recipients

of the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry has reached twenty-five percent. In

1998 when the Modern Library made a list of the top one hundred English

language novels, only eight by women were included. A recent list of the

top one hundred American novels selected by authors and published by the

New York Times Book Review gave Toni Morrison’s novel Beloved the top

spot, but still listed few women’s novels in comparison to men’s. A recent

survey of small press publishing by a CALYX intern revealed only twentyfive

percent of those published are women. In evaluating major literary anthologies,

women’s literature currently averages ten percent of the work

included, up slightly from the seven percent representation of women in

anthologies in 1976 when CALYX was founded.

     In writing about CALYX for our tenth-anniversary anthology, Florilegia,

Eleanor Wilner said, “...when I think of CALYX, I think of people, of themes,

of paths—as if…we were making deep tracks for each other, so that it’s

impossible to say ‘she went that way first’ or ‘those are her prints,’ but only

that the path is there, there are safe houses along the way, we’re going together.

This is, for me, feminism’s best self, the positive form of that old

female anonymity; here, it is a chosen anonymity, a conversation in which

everyone has her own voice…. That’s what’s missing in mainstream America,

and in the world of letters too…. ”

          During the past thirty years CALYX has provided the public with a conversation

by over 3,500 women authors and artists that is a collective expression

of the different realities of women’s lives, visions, and dreams. A

reality previously defined by a limited elite that excluded women’s perceptions

has now been opened up to include a multitude of voices that are flourishing.

In reviewing CALYX Journal during our twentieth anniversary, John

Berry, editor-in-chief of Library Journal, said, “CALYX has survived two

decades of struggle in a society that only grudgingly pays for excellence,

especially in challenged genre like the short story or poem. Yet here in

CALYX such works thrive, and move, and command your attention. I am

proud that we simple citizens, through the National Endowment for the

Arts, actually have supported this paragon of the literary arts, this exemplar

of what great writing and editing can create. From here will come our

literary heritage.”

       CALYX has reached its third decade to celebrate this anniversary despite

many hurdles and struggles. We have never been well funded, yet we have

managed to work in a way that has treated the many authors and artists

whose work we consider with care and respect despite our limitations. It is

no accident that we have published so many authors and artists first or early

who have gone on to become well known nationally and internationally.

Thank you to all those who have served as editors over the decades, thanks

to our supporters and funders, and special thanks to all the authors and artists

who’ve entrusted us with their work. Here’s to the conversation, to thirty

more years, and to the many voices out there waiting for discovery.

Margarita Donnelly, a Founding Editor

Long before becoming a writer I was an avid reader, and earned my living

as a visual artist, able to choose from a vast palette of materials to

create two- and three-dimensional works. But it wasn’t until I started writing—

and reading as a writer—that I became fully aware of the way a mere

twenty-six letters can conjure colors, textures, aromas, sounds, and even

whole habitable worlds, located anywhere in time and space.

         Now, as a new member of the CALYX Editorial Collective, I’m privileged

to read unpublished writing from women around the country and the

globe. Every year, the CALYX office fills with submissions: stacks of manila

envelopes containing pages in basic black and white. Reading them,

I’ve played bingo by candlelight during a hurricane, cured fish in a nineteenth-

century stubble field, made love under a Norwegian white-night

sky, and so much more. Each time I reach into the darkness of another

envelope, I feel a sense of wonder. I never know where those twenty-six

letters will take me next. C. Lill Ahrens

Sisterhood Is Powerful was a rallying cry for women in the mid-1970s as

we pushed aside obstacles and broke through social and political barriers.

We were finding our voices, and CALYX was there to carry these voices

into the world.

       I came to CALYX later, in the early 1990s, first when my poems were

accepted for publication, then as a poetry book editor, and now as a journal

editor and occasional reviewer. I love what I do; I love being part of

something as significant as CALYX. It’s good work, and it’s also more than

that because I work with women of soul and substance.

       Margarita Donnelly. When I first met Margarita, I was almost overwhelmed

by her direct, purposeful intensity. A lapsed Catholic, Margarita

will undoubtedly howl at this comparison. However, I see her as the updated

Our Lady of Guadalupe, the fierce one, the one who gives women

strength and hope, the modern, optimistic symbol of feminism in today’s

Mexico. If you can imagine Our Lady with curls of disheveled red hair instead

of a halo, and a holey sweater instead of azure drapery, with hands

held over a keyboard instead of folded in prayer—that would be Margarita,

fiercely dedicated to the power of women’s visions.

Beverly McFarland. I know of no more compassionate woman than

        Beverly. However, her kind heart is precisely balanced by a sharp-edged

editor’s mind. That soft Central Texas accent of hers can make any critical

comment and suggestion easy to hear. At a recent meeting of the journal

collective, she said, “I’m going to make ya’ll read that poem again,”

after the rest of us had decided not to hold it for further consideration. So

we read it again and, yes, we had missed something. Perhaps by paying too

much attention to the bones of the poem, we’d missed the heart. That’s

something Beverly never misses. When she says “Bless your heart,” as she

often does, she means it.

      Linda Smith. I’ve known Linda for thirty years, yet I know I can’t adequately

describe her. She cannot and will not be defined. Our editorial

meetings are usually held at her home in a room filled with angels. At times

she is our resident curmudgeon, seemingly immovable in her opinions. Then

in another round of critiques, she’ll break into song, having set her comments

to some silly tune, and we’ll be rolling with laughter. By all appearances

she’s quite serious, almost stern, but then there are those angels.

        These women, the core of CALYX for me, have encouraged me as a

writer and artist. They have sustained me during times of grief and despair.

They are women who have helped me laugh and who have held me when

I cried. These are my CALYX sisters who have shown me and who continue

to show me that sisterhood is powerful—quiet, deep, and profoundly

powerful. Alice Ann Eberman

I’m a reader. Growing up, I voraciously read everything within reach—

in a small central Texas town in the fifties that wasn’t much. No public

library and only a tiny high school one. My biggest disappointment when

I entered the University of Texas at Austin was the realization that I wouldn’t

have time to read many of the books in their magnificent library. I earned

degrees in journalism and English, happily reading assigned books, never

questioning what I was reading.

        Not until I saw the effects of a gender-biased textbook in my second

year of teaching English in public schools did I become aware of the importance

of women’s writing and women’s stories. The book was a standard

ninth-grade literature anthology, divided into thematic sections. An

early section covered six people who overcame handicaps, making the best

of their lives. That was over forty years ago, but I remember them well.

Three men—one facing a mortal illness; one, a physical handicap; and one,

racial prejudice. And three women—Amelia Earhart, a famous aviator; Babe

Didrikson Zaharias, a famous athlete; and Elizabeth Blackwell, the first female

physician in the U.S. Just what did they have to overcome? All the girls

in my classes, even the shyest, sat up taller and participated with fire in

their eyes and steel in their voices in the discussions about these barrierbreaking

women. I looked through the literature book and discovered that

while maybe a third of the writers were female, barely ten percent of the

stories had female protagonists, or indeed females at all other than mothers

and a few girl friends. We read all the stories with a girl or woman as

the central character. I began to closely examine everything I read.

     We moved to Corvallis, and when I discovered CALYX Journal, I immediately

became a subscriber. In 1988 I saw a notice in the newspaper

that CALYX wanted volunteers. I was working half-time as a technical editor

and secretary. I showed up at their offices one Saturday, and I stayed. I volunteered

my editorial expertise and discovered the joy of editing literature.

I remember checking final page proofs for The Forbidden Stitch on the

way to Portland when CALYX was given the Stewart H. Holbrook Award

from Oregon Literary Arts. I joined the staff in 1991.

       We do everything as collectively as possible. Being a member of the

Journal Editorial Collective takes much dedication, and we become very

close friends. We read hundreds of manuscripts, and I’ve discovered I love

the poetry almost as much as the prose. I enjoy working with the volunteers

and interns and other staff, and going to book fairs and showing our

“beautiful work, inside and out” (I always say). I can only thank the women

who were before us and do what I can to continue, not just CALYX, but

all women’s literature and the best of women it represents.

Beverly McFarland

I was a volunteer for CALYX quite early, around 1980. CALYX was being

printed locally and, to save money, one time we all volunteered to

collate an issue and went round and round the tables at the printer’s office.

In 1982, I was asked to be on the Editorial Collective of the Journal.

Since I have a complete set of CALYX Journals, I looked over the names

of the other editors who have served on the collective. Especially memorable

to me are Ann Staley, Dorothy Blackcrow Mack, Lois Cranston, and

Catherine Holdorf. I enjoy the creative, intelligent, liberal, peace-minded,

feminist women I have met through CALYX.

        Being a CALYX editor requires hundreds of hours of readings and meetings.

We read literature from women all over the world. I read poetry and

fiction book manuscripts for a while, and I especially enjoyed reading the

poetry book manuscripts. My favorite reading is poetry. I am a stickler for

good form and fresh expression. When reading prose, I tend to like quirky

literary stories. The energy of diverse pieces in prose and poetry creates a

wide range of acceptance. I have read some fabulous material. In fact in

one case, the night before my family went on sabbatical to D.C., I stayed

at an editorial meeting until midnight advocating for a story. After we did

accept it, it received a lot of positive comments. I love to see what the

world is writing.

        Working with CALYX helped when I taught the Literary Publication

class that produced the Linn-Benton Community College’s creative arts

journal The Eloquent Umbrella, and with the poetry and fiction classes I

teach as well.

      Volunteering and editing for CALYX has kept me busy and left me with

warm memories. I have worked on our fundraisers and traveled to book

fairs in Seattle and Anaheim. I am dedicated to the CALYX mission. When

I started, I thought I’d stay for twenty years, but it’s twenty-four now and

counting. I am one of the longest lasting members of the Journal Collective

and have brought new members to the collective. Some day, when I

do leave, I know they will carry on the excellent reputation of CALYX. It

has helped me flower in many ways. I hope CALYX remains rooted for a

long time. Linda Varsell Smith

I found a copy of the letter I sent to Beverly McFarland in July 2002,

applying for an internship position with CALYX. I said (quaintly):

“My aspirations are to become a literary editor and I am very interested in

working in a feminist environment.”

         Now, in my third year on the CALYX Editorial Collective, I find that

immersion in a feminist environment has indeed been as rewarding and

enriching as I had hoped. Our weekly communion with each other and

with the work of living writers has affirmed my desire to dedicate myself

to women’s literature. But the gift that I was least expecting, and that I

feel most strongly about, is a passion for women’s poetry.

       When I was younger, most poetry I encountered seemed dry, stale, and

outdated. Poetry seemed to inhabit a world entirely separate from my own.

Reading my first issue of CALYX Journal, I fell into a new universe of women’s

writing. Something stirred between the words; something electric seared

me. This vibrant, shimmering life-force; this powerful, tangible realness;

this satisfying shiver of awe—I had not experienced words like this before.

      I remember a moment when poetry came alive for me—when Susan

Elbe’s tough, dark-haired angel stepped right off the page of her poem “My

Angel” (CALYX 21:2) wearing his tight black chinos / with a pack of Luckys

/ rolled into his T-shirt sleeve. He was gritty, rough, sexy, and confident; I

was moony and unsure. This was the first poem that wanted me to go all the

way. I couldn’t resist. If he was the angel of poetry, I was entirely seduced.

       I continue to be seduced by the vivid sensuality of the writing in CALYX.

I crave that blood feast that Toni Van Deusen writes about in “The

Pomegranate” (22:2)—the way that poetry slices open life itself, exposing

all its dark chambers, and offers words like glistening hearts for us to devour.

Once I tasted that living power in words, there was no going back.

      Strength courses through the poetry and prose in CALYX. I am enthralled

by the brutal physicality of Carol Robison’s short story “Sharks” (22:3) and

in awe of the incredible womanly strength of her narrator. I am moved to

tears every time I read Janet Albright’s essay “Silence” and Lailah Ford’s

exquisite poem “The Fire of Our Living” (both 23:1). I am drawn to these

authors, and others, who coax so much beauty from the heart-rending

experience of loss. Reading these pieces, I am forced to confront the rawness

of mortality and my own fears of losing someone I love.

        I have come to believe strongly that poetry serves, as Audre Lorde said

in Sister Outsider, as a bridge across our fears of what has never been before.

Poetry, especially contemporary women’s poetry, gives me the opportunity

to build and create my life, and my self, in ways I hadn’t yet imagined. It

is an enormous honor to be a part of the legacy of CALYX—thank you

for letting me join in. Marieke Steuben

Copyright  2006 by CALYX, Inc., a non-profit corporation. No part of this publication may be copied or reproduced without written permission from CALYX.