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1. #POPSHOT THE ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINE OF NEW WRITING SKIN#
2. #POPSHOT THE ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINE OF NEW WRITING FULL#

Popshot is a beautifully illustrated magazine that publishes short stories, flash fiction and poetry from the literary new blood. The birds of paradise cover has been designed by illustrator Matt Harrison Clough. It also features an exclusive preview from Bad Romance, a new short story collection by Emily Hill, published by Unbound. Popshot is an illustrated literary magazine that publishes short stories, flash fiction and poetry from the literary new blood. Issue 19 includes stories and poems about first love and secret affairs, deep longing and desperate heartbreak, and references all aspects of history and culture from Tinder to Julius Caesar. When can a man approach a woman? Are apps a waste of time? Are all relationships doomed to fail? Without romance, the world would be a poorer, lonelier place.” “The flood of interest in romance during a tumultuous time shows a real and sustained desire for connection, passion and tenderness. Cover illustration by Martha White.Popshot is a beautifully illustrated quarterly magazine showcasing imaginative short stories, flash fiction and poetry by the best new writers.The Uncensored Issue is a collection of vivid writing, exploring our deepest internal thoughts. Our bright and bold issue conjures up a sense of yearning, promise and excitement. Popshot 33 The Uncensored Issue The 34th issue of Popshot Quarterly is now on sale featuring 27 stories and poems. Laura Silverman, Editor of Popshot, says: “In the age of Weinstein and Tinder, romance is having a rough ride. The Romance Issue offers a punchy look at a topical theme, calling for a Romance Renaissance. The editors have selected 25 stories and poems from more than 800 submissions worldwide. The spring issue will reveal a bigger and bolder look for the title in response to an increased demand for short stories among readers. New issue of Popshot, the illustrated magazine of new writing. This piece by Amy Barnes appeared in The Mystery Issue of Popshot Quarterly.The Chelsea Magazine Company is delighted to announce the launch of its I never ate watermelon or cantaloupe again. I named that watermelon Trudy and she played by Sander’s Pond with me as I read books and did math. “Can I have a slice, mama?” She smiled as shook her head and called for the nurse lady. I heard the watermelon crying as they cut off its vines from inside my belly. “Do you like watermelon?” I asked the men in white coats and women in white hats.īlood red juice dripped across my belly when they sliced it open-smile-style.

#POPSHOT THE ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINE OF NEW WRITING FULL#

I gripped my tight, full belly the whole way wailing along with the ambulance siren. I ate a lot of watermelon that year, sucking down each slice and spitting out the seeds into the grass.įour months later, I couldn’t wear my Jordache jeans or even my gym glass sweatpants. She grabbed me by the arm and drug me off the paper-covered doctor chair, throwing my jumble sale sweatshirt and stretchy pants and Wednesday underpants at me.

We ate almost a whole watermelon after we went swimming.” “Who did this?” she hissed at me like my brother’s bearded lizard that lived in a cage by his bed. “Watermelons in early spring are for rich people, mama. My back hurt like when I helped bring in the corn crops. I wasn’t looking forward to carrying this watermelon that long though. Having watermelons in the off-season was something rich people did. “Sit still,” she told me, as if I were a child and not carrying a sweet watermelon under my skin.ĭr. I jumped back in the stirrups that weren’t made for horseback riding. He touched my belly and set off some kind of sparky tweed-induced friction. Smith had a voice and bedside manner that matched his name. She loaded pumpkins up in her wheelbarrow and me into her wood-panelled station wagon.ĭr. Just as mama’s garden spit out piles of pumpkins, my belly reached gourd stage. I tried pushing it down and hiding it under sweatshirts when everyone else was stripped down to tank tops and shorts.

#POPSHOT THE ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINE OF NEW WRITING SKIN#

I asked Bobby to try and suck it out of me and he tried but we both knew it was all over.īy the time I went back to school, my stomach was the size of a cantaloupe, stretched summer peach-y skin that hadn’t been burnt by the constant Alabama sun. I felt it land with a plop in my stomach. I remembered my mama’s warning when it was too late. We were both sweating by the time we got done swimming and snacking. Bobby Jenkins and I went skinny dipping in Sander’s Pond and afterward we sat half-naked by the water’s edge and ate slices of watermelon until our fingers were red and we were both wearing less than we arrived in. I avoided eating watermelon until that one really hot day at the summer carnival. If you eat a watermelon, a baby will grow in your belly.

Amy Barnes’ flash fiction explores the surprising ramifications of a young girl eating watermelon.