-
The Best Years of Our Lives
There are two ways of relating to a piece of literature—you can relate to the story itself, seeing yourself as one of the characters, living their adventure alongside them; or you can see aspects of the character in yourself and see how a person like you would handle the kinds of setbacks that any great adventure subjects its heroes to.
Madeline L’Engle’s story of an awkward girl and her neurodivergent brother leaving their own planet to save their absent father seems to have struck a nerve with so many people, coming to them at times in their lives when they were vulnerable and needed the message that people with imperfections can be strong in a world that is often hostile to them. Even Calvin, the athletic, popular kid who falls for Meg, accompanying them on their journey, has his own secret burdens.
When I was growing up, one of four children in a single parent household, I often felt marked by what my life lacked. Our father didn’t live with us, we didn’t have much money, we were latchkey kids because our mother had to work, and I was acutely aware of how different this was than my peers’ lives. It was only later, as I reconnected to friends on social media, that I came to find out that so many of my schoolmates were living with their own secrets—parents who were alcoholic or abusive, families struggling with mental health issues, money worries. Even now, when I find out that friends whose social media lives look beautiful and effortless are struggling with huge life problems, it breaks my heart and reminds me that no matter how great someone’s life looks from the outside, you really have no idea what their reality is.
What is remarkable isn’t the fact that so many people seemed to take comfort in the story—it’s that everyone seemed to take comfort from different aspects. There were people with absent fathers, people who felt they didn’t fit the conventional notions of what’s considered “attractive,” people who, like Calvin, were attractive and popular and therefore felt that they weren’t able to tell anyone about disastrous home lives, people whose neural differences meant that they were shunned by their peers. Everyone trying so hard to conform to what they think is normal that they don’t notice the cracks in other people’s facades.
I have this theory, that when people are nostalgic, when they think back to a certain quality of light from a window in a room where they were happy, or the smell of a particular combination of flowers drifting down a street where they felt safe, or the pressure of a special embrace when they felt loved, that it’s not actually the time or the place that they’re longing for. What we long for is the person we were when that happened to us.
The beauty of A Wrinkle in Time is the possibility that time and space can be warped, changed, folded so that we can go back to that person who felt happy, safe, loved, and maybe this time, we would do things differently and our lives would be different, that we can overcome those problems that marred our early years. We hope that these poems, stories, and art take you back to that time when you could take on any challenge, and remind you of the person you were when everything was possible.
Lise Quintana
Believing Takes Practice (cover)
Ashley is a Humanities Professor and artist whose work has a surrealist undertone, inspired by her readings of philosophy and poetry. You can also find her on stage performing with Toledo’s Improv troupe, Unfiltered.
IT Knows
Ashely is an MFA candidate in nonfiction at the University of South Florida. Her work has appeared in journals such as Heavy Feather Review, Fourth River, Permafrost, OCCULUM, Luna Luna Magazine, and Paper Darts.
Folding
E. Kristin is the editor of Come as You Are (Anomalous Press), and Hysteria: Writing the female body (Sable Books, forthcoming), and the author of chapbooks including A Guide for the Practical Abductee (Red Bird Chapbooks). Kristin is an assistant poetry editor at The Boiler and a slush reader at Sugared Water.
Dear Megaparsec
Colette is a journalist whose work has appeared in CNN, HLN, The Daily Dot, Colourlovers, Engadget, Kotaku and Joystiq. Her work has been featured in Norwegian print magazine AftenPolten Innsikt.
C8: A Tessellation of Faces, Wings, and Other Obscure Things
Carina’s work has been published in Hath No Fury, Mythic Delirium, NonBinary Review, Timeless Tales, and The Horror ‘Zine. Her work has been nominated for several awards and she was the recipient of the 2016 HWA Scholarship.
Reading A Wrinkle in Time
Mary, author of Navigating the Reach, einfühlung/in feeling, Aerialist, and Roomful of Sparrows, is President of the New England Poetry Club and teaches writing at MCPHS University in Boston.
When I Said We Had a Joke About a Tesseract…
Jenn lives, writes, and teaches in Paris, France. Her work has appeared in previous NonBinary Review issues: “Pinker’s Study” in Issue 9 and “Tinderbox” in Issue 14.
The Promise
Morrow’s most recent publication credits include Panoply, APIARY, and Schuylkill Valley Journal. In addition to poetry, she also writes graphic novels, most recently in collaboration with the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences.
Ix Chel
Denise read A Wrinkle In Time shortly after the book was first published. It has always been one of her favorite SF novels. Denise writes fiction, poetry, and nonfiction, and helms Rev. Dee’s Apothecary, a New Orleans-Style Botanica online.
Sisters
Sarah’s work can be found in Reunion: The Dallas Review, Cream City Review, The Moon Magazine, and Mom Egg Review, among others. She is a Best of the Net nominee and has two chapbooks, Changing the Grid and The Pine Tree Experiment. She lives in New Jersey.
A Wrinkle
Judy has been published in Brevity, Split Lip Magazine, The Blueshift Journal and many other places. Judy is also a fiction reader for Literary Orphans. Her as yet unpublished novel, Max Runs, listed in the Mslexia Competition.
Charles Wallace (the Sin of Pride)
Mary is a librarian from New England. She has previously been published in The Westchester Review, Mythic Circle, and online in Sick Lit Magazine.
A Fracture in Fate
SMJ is a Los Angeles native and attorney. Her work has appeared in The Common, The Atticus Review, and FORTH Magazine.
You May Have Been
Laurinda’s poetry has appeared in The Cortland Review, Ekphrasis, Main Street Rag, and Paterson Literary Review, and anthologies including Visiting Bob: Poems Inspired by the Life and Work of Bob Dylan.
In Which the Prime Coordinator Has a Moment of Clarity
Desirae lives in California, where she will soon attend graduate school. When she is not reading or writing, she can be found playing an instrument or cuddling small furry animals.
Freud’s Nose
Drake is the creator of the Apple app Vindac and is an Art Center College of Design student. In addition to juried art exhibits, and illustration work he is creating his third time-based media indy project. @drake.truber
Meg Tries to Explain
Elinor teaches writing online at the University of Maryland-University College. Her poems have appeared in Poet Lore, The Christian Science Monitor, Cicada, Rosebud, Mezzo Cammin, Soundzine, and in Stone Renga.