At the time of this writing, L'Éphémère Review has just celebrated its two-year Twitter anniversary. Two years ago, reeling from the first tastes of heartbreak and newfound independence, barely twenty-one, barely starting my last year of college, barely able to swim in my own ocean, let alone dip my toe into another, I decided to start an online literary journal. With the help of two volunteer staff members, we released our inaugural issue in September 2016 to small fanfare, and have only grown since. Now, L'ÉR is made up of a staff of twenty-two, have published ten issues to date, released a special National Poetry Month anthology of work, held our first-ever writing contest, are beginning to publish micro-chapbooks from the winners and runner-ups of said contest, and is continuing to grow and develop and strive in an increasingly changing literary world.
I want to welcome you to the tenth issue of L'Éphémère Review; Sempiternal. I wanted to go back to the concepts that formed this journal from the very beginning—the passage of memory and time, narrative and myth, softness and savagery, happiness and pain, the very contradictions of life that make living the beautiful cacophony it is. The unrelenting voice that weaves through stories both old and newly spoken, both necessary and vital. A voice that exists at the intersection of what it means to love, to lose, and to live. Something eternal and unchanging. Something everlasting.
L'Éphémère Review has come a long way from its humbled, softly-buried roots; thank you for letting us flower into something greater than any of us thought possible, and for being there by our side, encouraging us to never forget the earth from which we came, and to always strive towards sunlight.
We still have much room left to grow, and there are days where it seems the earth is blanketed in never-ceasing clouds. Still, even when we cannot see, the sun is always there, warm and vital and good.
We hope you enjoy reading this issue as much as we enjoyed curating it and, as always, thank you for your support and love.
To two years, ten issues, and many, many more years and issues to come.
With thanks and gratitude,
KANIKA LAWTON is a writer, poet, and editor from Vancouver, British Columbia. She holds a Bachelor's degree in Psychology with a Minor in Film Studies from the University of British Columbia, where she served as an editor with the UBC Undergraduate Film Student Association, and is an MA Candidate at the University of Toronto's Cinema Studies Institute. She is the Social Media Manager of Rambutan Literary, a 2018 Porkbelly Press Micro Chapbook Series finalist, two-time Pushcart Prize nominee, and 2018 Pink Door Fellow. Her work has appeared in Ricepaper Magazine, Vagabond City Literary Journal, Hypertrophic Literary, and Longleaf Review, among others.. She is the author of Wildfire Heart (The Poetry Annals, 2018) and Loneliness, and Other Ways to Split a Body (Ghost City Press, 2018).