<contact wood coin>

Publisher: James =K= Beach
E-mail: [inquiries @ woodcoin]

Scroll down for the Wood Coin submission instructions, as I hereby continue my digression: I do still think I took the right path by working as Carol Bergé's personal editor-- it led me to create this magazine, minus any hints or papers or whatnot from the five boxes of Bergé archives in her living room, minus any grand scheme "they" might've concocted recently about the internet-- I figured out the correlation between mimeographing and the internet all by myself, alone in fact, juxtaposed metaphysically and decade-wise to what I was then learning about the 1960s and 1970s, while immersed in her Light Years manuscript after her death. I put what I learnt from her books into practice while compiling my own version of her Light Years anthology titled The Village Others, actively in 2015; after her death in 2006, in the back of my mind, I simultaneously created a literary arts magazine (this one), and right away set about contacting everyone from Carol's 1970's CENTER prose magazine alongside all living writers cataloged in her Light Years tome while generating the html pages of Wood Coin. Also I contacted family, old friends and college peers and work associates-- only my sister submitted, with a captivating cover image that I quickly split into three for the first three issues; I kept that threefold design. (Simultaneously a hobo arrived into my sphere, named A.D.P. but using a pen name, XeusZenon; as I was gathering FFI images and text, A. showed up to ride along in my car or sleep in the ski basin alongside me and my idealistic rebellion; he thrived beyond idealism since "they" were attacking him like alien monsters in the stratosphere, firing invisible weapons from invisible ships, knocking his societal place into the gutter "just to be cruel" despite evidence that he belonged above the streets-- if only my chance encounter with XeusZenon could be validated as authentic rather than orchestrated to fulfill a covert agenda-- he anyway abandoned me as soon as I secured us a place to live while clipping pot plants or building a long Roman Driveway for the Santa Fean he introduced me to... We lived "that" life. With a ready smirk and attuned height the poetic junkie would daily steal orange Robitussen from grocers to quell a heroin habit. He also shared a poetry e-file with me which found its way into the first few issues of Wood Coin... He thought the first issue "worked" but was dead by the second, with me finding out online via some of his music college friends in late 2009... Yet a stop appears here, which must serve now as buffer to any further history of Wood Coin.) Around that time I also chose the "Found Objects" images for my Welcoming pages and worked out several novice designs for the site, some of which is archived. All other background images (since deleted) I'd culled from free photo bins and photoshopped for effect, but have since deemed them extraneous. The initial Quotations and Salutations pages I've also kept, each quote coming from either something I was reading at the time or from those prestigious quotations books found at all libraries, and each salutation was written by me after researching various sources (uncredited). Most of the magazine's design and content was completed at public libraries or universities, at first. And I had some success immediately, in this country as well as overseas; word spread though my cheap advertising and by my spammily inviting teachers at secondary schools and universities to visit, mixing in of course the subtle notoriety of some of the writers and artists included here who responded to my initial queries for material. My hiatus after finishing the first 18 issues could've been retirement from publishing, if not for a few submissions in 2017 that made me wanna do a flipside of 18 issues. And 2018 began wonderfully, as well as 2008 did in terms of response and new submitters. I thought I had control of my artillery as recently as two years ago. Yet, it now appears the hijackers might be hijacking my "original idea" in lieu of plying their own ideas and obtaining a legitimate PhD. (It takes a new invention to get a doctorate, is what I hear, although plenty of copy-artists and sexy folks have gotten their letters without a clearly novel idea. Anyway...) My hijackers might also be simple bullies with no hijacking agends! Regardless, life is harrowing today. I took the job with Carol and she died after only about five months. Devastated? That came later. In early February 2006 I had returned from a weekend in Albuquerque with my lover, to check in for my shift, but the front door of her house was locked for the first time and when I peeked into her bedroom window her "handyman" mattress was rolled up on its metal frame... My lover cried but I was unmoved. And then the rest of the adult life of a naive writer-turned-editor-turned-publisher happened. Lots of this can be found as sketchy adulation in my memoir titled "Goathead"--except: minus the day when Carol called me into her bedroom (on hospice/morphine) sans shirt with her tiny exposed breasts sagging as she held up her arms to hug me; minus the suspicious broken wrist and bruise on her back which drove her into her bed; minus my assertion that somebody from the oxygen canister unit was her assassin, etc. Her only friend was Carl Ginsburg, her multi-millionaire arts supporter, who gave her a few grand every few months to keep her employees funded and accountable, and whose money I doled out faithfully as editor-accountant (all but the last week of shifts, as Carl failed to fund us after her death). But Carl liked me-- I took him out to lunch our second meeting-- and we struck up a deal to publish Carol's last two books via AWAREing Press, with me as managing editor. Blah, blah, blah... Here is where life got complicated... Yet I've barely begun describing the Coe College angle to Wood Coin, or my childhood influence on its design, or my "life experience credits" as yet unaccredited by an institution, which has shaped the venue.. If interested, write me for more details. Or write me with anything now on your mind...

Is 18 more or less than enough to issue? How about 28? I plan on doing 8 more issues, with 2 of them full already. Who is reading us? What is art but art for its own sake? Aesthetics and satire ply their kitschy tricks again, maybe. As the grunge band Nirvana ironically proclaimed: Well, whatever, nevermind--

<submitting to wood coin>

Although the first set of 18 issues (TAILS) was completed in 2013, another set of 18 issues (HEADS) debuted in January 2018. THE EDGE of the coin debuted in December 2018.

Feel free to contact [submissions @ woodcoin] with short prose, verse or visual art for a free analysis and consideration of publication in Wood Coin.

For Heads issues, send up to 20 pages in a Word doc or 10 jpg images. Will consider longer work to be serialized. Please include a brief bio.

Submissions for the Edge of the coin are organized and intended for agents and publishers. Each should include a generic query letter, a summary or synopsis or nonfiction book proposal, and a sample of the completed manuscript of up to 50 pages. Also include a brief bio.

Tails submissions are closed unless I delete a few writers who are in kahootz against me, hang up when I call, or otherwise appear suspect...

Joking! As of today, all pieces published on the stated date remain intact, and the only editing done after publication concerns a very few words in my own short stories, the end of a few poems that appeared to me to be different almost a decade later, deletion of a few optional images submitted with text, as well as two of the issue titles being clarified with an additional word.