If you’ve never encountered miniMAG before, it’s a literary space built around immediacy, intensity, and voice.
Known for publishing short, powerful work, miniMAG has created a home for writing that lands quickly and lingers. It’s a platform that embraces experimentation, emerging voices, and pieces that don’t always fit neatly into traditional categories. The emphasis has often been on brevity, but more importantly, on impact.
Which is exactly why it’s such an exciting space for Old Scratch Press to step into.
For this upcoming issue, we’re not curating the work. We are the work.
Old Scratch Press is taking over the issue as contributing writers and artists, bringing a collection that reflects the range of what we do. That includes longer pieces alongside shorter ones, visual work alongside written, and voices that move between forms rather than staying confined to one.
This isn’t about fitting into a format. It’s about expanding it.
You’ll find work that holds tension, work that experiments, work that stretches. You’ll find pieces that are immediate and pieces that take their time. And yes, you’ll find writing that pushes beyond the expectation of what “mini” might suggest, and art as well. Many of us make with words and with other mediums too.
At Old Scratch Press, we care deeply about voice, about risk, and about creating space for work that feels alive on the page. This issue of miniMAG gives us the opportunity to bring that energy into a platform already known for bold, concentrated storytelling, and to widen the lens just a bit while we’re there.
At Old Scratch Press, we know Anthony Doyle first and foremost as a poet.
A writer of precision. Of restraint. Of lines that do more than they seem to at first glance.
That sensibility does not disappear when he moves into prose. It deepens.
In Hibernaculum, Doyle brings that same attention to language and silence into a speculative world shaped by human hibernation. The result is a novel that feels, at times, like an extended meditation. A work that unfolds deliberately, asking the reader not just to follow a story, but to sit inside it.
This is not a departure from his poetry. It is an expansion of it.
The same questions are here. Identity. Time. What it means to leave and return. What it means to remain.
For those who have read Anthony’s poetry with us, Hibernaculum offers a chance to experience that voice working at a different scale. For those who have not yet encountered his work, this is a striking place to begin.
For a limited time, the Kindle and Nook editions of Hibernaculum are available for 99¢.
PLANES, BOATS, CARS, TRAINS Maybe you love to travel or maybe you like to stay at home, but when you venture out— what kind of transportation takes you on your journey? Are you invigorated by the open water, frantic following road signs, anonymous on a plane, or comforted by the train station whistle? In the process of getting to your destination, how did the vehicle you’re traveling in affect the outcome?
This week in the New York Timesthere is an article about Mark Oppenheimer writing Judy Blume’s biography. When he began the project, so he says, she liked him and gave him access to her life and her circle, etc. When he sent her the draft, she no longer liked him or the book he was writing about her. Apparently she sent him quite a big pile of notes, and contact ceased soon after that. He published the book anyway. He, and book’s narrator, Molly Ringwald, feel like Judy has to put up with his book, and that Mark did a fine job. According to the NYT article, Molly said, “There might be moments that Judy doesn’t like or agree with, but overall I think it’s a respectful treatment of her and her literary significance.” And, “If Mark didn’t show Judy’s flaws or humanity, it would be hard to feel invested.”
At what point does your life stop being your own? I might argue it’s when you become a parent. But, eventually they grow up, and you get to pivot back to yourself somewhat. Mark could have written the book with, or without, Judy’s help, and that’s the danger of being that level of author, but the fact that she gave him permission at first, and then was unhappy with what he made of her life, gives me pause. How much do we own our own life story?
The NYT made the main photo of the piece one of Mark sitting in a bunk bed. I don’t like this. He’s not at the age, or in life circumstances where he would actually be the person who sleeps in that bed. To me it is a ploy to make him look more innocent. I don’t think he is. I’m disappointed in Molly. For full disclosure, I read a bit of Judy Blume as a kid, from Margaret to some of the adult books, most of them for the sexy bits, honestly. Hey, I was in middle school. But, with apologies to Judy, I have seldom thought of her since. I tried reading Margaret to my daughter when she was in middle school, and we both found it didn’t age well. Plus, my daughter was not raised with the same religiosity I was. So there’s that for the longevity of the book in my life. And anybody can write a biography of anybody. The trick, like it is with our own books, is to get people to read it.
Still, do Mark, Molly, and his publishing company have the right to own Judy’s story, to make the truth of Judy’s life Mark’s version of the truth?
I say no. I say this is another woman losing agency over her own body, life, and body of work, to a man and a corporation. And it seems her only recourse might be for Judy to write her autobiography, to set the record straight. I cannot imagine anything as boring as writing out my own life story. And believe you me, I’ve had a fascinating life. Ha! Whether I have or I haven’t, I’m not ready to relive it all like I’ve had a near death experience. No, no no.
So, whose life is it anyway?
I would love to hear your thoughts.
Dianne Pearce is the chief editor and bottle washer at Current Words Publishing, and the half-cocked imaginer behind Old Scratch Press and Instant Noodles. Pearce loves helping writers realize the dream of having their work published. I mean she is really crazy about doing that for some reason. To that end, to join in the fray, to look at the thing from the other side, to stand in another’s shoes, and all of those things, she is fully expecting and promising to publish her first collection of poetry, In the Cancer Cafeteria, spring of 2026. Please don’t hold your breath. For very long. Happy 2026!
Gabby and Morgan are part of the featured selections from the Community of Literary Magazines and Presses for Women’s History Month!
Check it out here:
And pick up a copy of these great books!
NO OCEAN SPIT ME OUT is a captivating debut collection of poetry by Gabby Gilliam that delves deep into the intricate tapestry of family dynamics and personal evolution. Within its 30 poems, the collection embarks on a profound journey through the stages of coming of age, navigating the complexities of familial bonds, grappling with organized religion, and ultimately, embracing the essence of self-acceptance.
Each poem in NO OCEAN SPIT ME OUT serves as a poignant reflection of the human experience, capturing moments of vulnerability, resilience, and growth with eloquence. Through lyrical prose and emotive imagery, Gilliam paints a vivid portrait of the joys and struggles inherent in the process of self-discovery.
Whether you’re seeking solace in the shared experiences of family relationships or searching for introspective insights into the nuances of identity and faith, Gilliam’s collection offers a profound and thought-provoking exploration of the human condition.
From the mighty pen of artist and author Morgan Golladay comes The Song of North Mountain, a transformative collection of poetry and art celebrating the famous and mystical North Mountain of Appalachia.
North Mountain, a wildland in the George Washington and Jefferson National Forests of western Virginia, has been recognized by the Wilderness Society as a special place worthy of protection from logging and road construction. The Wilderness Society has designated the area as a “Mountain Treasure.”
Morgan Golladay brings her readers to dwell in the reverence of this wonderful wilderness.
Golladay is an award-winning author who was raised on North Mountain and lives in coastal Delaware as part of a thriving artist and author community. All words and art in this book are by Golladay.
The Song of North Mountain is National Book Award nominee!
OLD SCRATCH PRESS 