A Friend Indeed

Hello all!

   How lovely to see you again. Care for a cuppa? Bit chilly today so it might help you warm up. It's May and there is so much I have to tell you! Firstly, I've been lacking in my editorial duties by doing things like answering emails within the week and posting content on time, or at all. It's not that I don't love you, but this really is a job for two people. I get shoved gown guilt spirals because I'm the child that believes if you can't see it, there's no problem, even though I know better. I had grandiose plans to fix the site and put together PDFs, but I am still only one person. This may sound like a sob story, but I'm actually trying to break good news. I've been running this literary circus for about a year on my own and it's time to have a reunion. Our favorite editrice is coming back! There's no need to hide it, she's everyone's favorite. Mostly because she can use commas and wit better than I can. That's right Liz will be returning to The Toucan very soon. In what capacity remains to be seen, but she'll be back. Between the two of us we're bound to get things up in time and respond to emails in a timely fashion. She'll make a proper re-introduction when the time comes, and in the meantime I'm still calling the shots. But I know she was sorely missed and now that I've had a say in things, you may need to pick sides. Letting us know which pieces you like will help define the content in the future. We want our readers to enjoy what we publish!

   Secondly, this issue may be a little late, but it sure is something. Lots of lovely poetry to be read here, as well as some prose. It's a bit of a lighter issue, but quality over quantity, huh? Plus there's a bit of artwork! I'm always excited about any artwork we get. It breaks up the issue a bit and helps bring home the point that The Toucan loves all forms of art and storytelling. That's not to say that the writing isn't something to get excited about. We have some familiar faces as well as brand new writers in this issue. It's spring, new beginnings are important and everyone gets one in this issue. The styles and subjects are all so varied I can't even pull recommendations. Just enjoy all of it.

   Lastly, my birthday was May 1st and usually it's celebrated with the issue. That's just how the schedule turned out.  Since you can't all send me gifts, I'd like you to submit your best work to The Toucan. That is probably the best gift I could ever get. I want The Toucan to continue to exist and be enjoyed by all kinds of readers. Submitting helps keep us alive. Now, I'll top off that tea and leave you to read. Thank you, and enjoy the issue.

Best,
Editrice Laura

We've made it this far...

We’ve made it to Issue 20! The Toucan may not look the same as it did for the first issue, but the spirit is the same. Even I’m not original! Liz Baudler and Olivia Petrus originally started this little mag in December 2008. Liz braved through the second issue alone and asked me to be a part of the third issue. I suppose the rest is history. We’ve made a number of friends and published a ton of wonderful writers. There was a point where Liz and I never thought there was going to be another issue, and even though it wasn’t the last issue, it was Liz’s.

I’m going to continue to publish The Toucan for as long as there are submissions in the inbox. I’d like to see it go back to print and I’d like to see an anthology sometime in the future. In order to make this possible, PDFs of all of the issues will be made available when I have the time to put them together. They will be for sale on the blog for a few dollars and all profits will go back into The Toucan. All of the work will still be free to view online because the point is to share good writing, not hold it hostage for money. It will just be nicer to read and may have a few extra doodles of mine thrown in for good measure. Of course, I’ll have to get off my butt and do it. I’m hoping you will hold me accountable now so that I can get quality stuff out to you.

            Speaking of quality stuff, this issue isn’t too shabby. We start off with Holler-Ambo, an unconventional romance that ends in the back of an ambulance.  The less-than-faithful relationship between a climber and his rope in A Slip of the Rope just goes to show you can’t trust just anything. There are things that were left unsaid in I Never Told and much shared in While Shaving. Doesn’t it always boil down to relationships? Between stories of lovers, friends, and family you’ll get a glimpse of everything. Enjoy this issue with a hot beverage of choice and a loved one. It will make you grateful to have them.

            I really do hope to publish for many years to come. This has been a wonderful 20 issues, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to see 20 more. Please submit and please share us with your friends. This will ensure a long, happy life for The Toucan. Thank you to all of the submitters and readers. I’ll see you in May.

Humbly,

Editrice Laura

Nothing but Cheer!

Hi all!
    We've hit issue 19 and man it was like pulling teeth! Nothing wanted to go right, but at least it's up now and is hopefully problem-free. 2012 was a rough year for The Toucan between the neglect due to graduation, losing an editrice, low number of submissions, the passing of a dear friend and contributor, and the infamous egg drop soup incident. But we're still here bringing you the best writing we can find, and I'll be damned if that's not why we're all here.
    There is a lot of sadness is this issue. I didn't mean for it to be a bummer, but that's how it fell together. The holiday season is supposed to be a happy occasion, but a number of people do have a certain melancholy about the season. That's not to say it's all doom and gloom. Even the sad stories have very happy writers. This issue deals with death, loss, depression, wolf attacks, and annoying people. That's not to say there won't be any laughs. You know us, we can't be serious for too long!
    So, please enjoy the issue. There will be another one out in mid February and it will be issue 20, so I want to try to do something  special. We'll see, though. Thanks to everyone who has been reading The Toucan since issue 1, those who have just found us today, and everyone in between. Thanks to our submitters, because I couldn't keep going without you. I hope everyone has a big ol' party some time this month and has a drink for me and one for the bird as well (though it would rather smoke cigars!)
Warmly,
Editrice Laura

Prepping for the Season

That time of year is upon us when the air is crisp and chilly. It sounds like it would make a potentially delicious food dish, but as weather I find it quite distasteful. Of course, if you’re in the southern hemisphere you’re just finishing up with that kind of weather. It’s a pity that the toucan isn’t a passenger bird; I’d never have to endure another Chicago winter. Though the weather leaves something to be desired, I do love everything building up to Halloween. Halloween and the use of cinnamon in everything. But none of these things have to do with why we’re here. It’s a brand spanking new issue filled with all kinds of goodies!

            I’ve gotten my sea legs for overseeing everything, and man do I have an issue for you! As the baseball season wraps up, “Perfect Corners” reminds us it isn’t all about the game. If you’re like me or the main character in “Realizations” you would be thrilled to escape to Greece for the season.  Or just imagine you were there a long time ago as you read “Song of Ulysses” and “Song of Sirens”. Those gearing up for Halloween will appreciate the horror of “A Leisurely Walk Through Hell.” Gave me shivers and I loved it. Of course, I love all of these enough to share them! I wouldn’t want you to waste your time, especially if you were contemplating “The End #486,283,764,016” or even just your “Dishes.”

            So grab your favorite beverage and enjoy issue 18! A lot of cuppas went into putting it together so I hope you find it up to snuff. Many thanks to Denny Marshall for the cover art and everyone who submitted their writing. In order to keep this bird in the air I need submissions. Please submit to thetoucanmag@gmail.com if you want there to be an issue 19. Thanks and enjoy issue 18!

Sincerely,

Editrice Laura

           

Editrice Note: Ch-ch-ch-changes

So, it’s issue time again, and our beloved mascot has been sipping tropical drinks and laughing because it is well adapted to this obscene amount of heat we’ve been having.   Cheeky thing! As I slaved over assembling my first-ever solo issue, the damn thing just kept chuckling about a literate artist. Does anyone know a good taxidermist? I kid! I’d never harm a feather on the beloved, though rude, bird.   

Yes, for those who missed it, this issue is 100% my (Laura’s) doing.  If it’s not quite up to snuff you know who to send angry emails to.  Liz had a lot on her plate and just couldn’t keep up with everything.  While this is very sad, let's focus on all the goodies in this issue.  There are all kinds of fun things to do in the summer, like riding your bike in “We Learned to Love the River.” Checking out a beauty contest like “No Fury like a Lawyer Judged Less Beautiful” would certainly be a summer treat.  Maybe for you working is more rewarding, or perhaps a class in “Tea and Semantics.”  If staying home and writing is more your speed, perhaps “For Your Consideration” will make you feel right at home.  And if you’d like to send some of that writing to The Toucan, all the better!  But those pieces are just the tip of the iceberg.  There are so many good things in here you may as well look at the table of contents for a list of recommended reading.  

Though this issue marks the end of a wonderful partnership( we are still the best of friends, though!), it also marks new beginnings.  I hope you continue to read and love The Toucan even though the next few issues will be a bit different from those we have already published.  Unfortunately it’s the nature of the beast, but I plan to make the most of it! As always, I can’t do it without contributors so if you have a piece of writing or art that you think would fit in send it to thetoucanmag@gmail.com.   With that, enjoy summer and the summer issue!

Your fearless leader,

Laura

Editrice Note: Stuck in a Dryer

It’s winter, which means we are trying to save on heating costs. That means spins in dryers, lots of blankets, and snuggles with kitties of various persuasions. The Toucan pesters us daily in his indomitable squawking way for a ticket to Costa Rica, and we tell him we haven’t even printed the Fall Issue yet, what the hell is he squawking about?
Welcome to the harried Toucan Headquarters. In point of fact we are not actually at Headquarters right now, as Editrice Liz lucked into a cushy cat-sitting gig. But the routine is the same: lots of coffee, late nights, and Cat Stevens on the media player. This seems like the most fun issue we’ve had in a while. Yes, there’s a fair share of death and murder. We do not condone bird murder, not even of ducks. We have this friend who’s obsessed with this novelty track Alan Moore recorded. The lyrics of this go “DUCKS…DUCKS…you think they’re cuddly, I think they’re sinister…” All the same, sinister behavior is not a license to kill. What the…what did we just write? It’s two in the morning. Don’t wring anyone’s neck or hit them with a ball-peen hammer, not even if they’re snoring. Kitties snore, did you know that?

And there’s love…and sex. Sex…with strangers. We don’t really recommend that either. We’re just hitting all the literary themes, aren’t we? Death and sex. Doesn’t every good piece of literature have that in droves? News flash—The Toucan is officially a good piece of literature. You knew that already, right? Say yes. It’s two in the morning. Actually, we’re proudest of our poetry section this issue. Want to know why? Because it starts with “An Introduction to the Introduction” and finished with “Finished”. See what we did there? Aren’t we tricky little devils? Just say yes. It’s two in the morning, and with a little searching in various cabinets, Editrice Liz may be able to round up a ball-peen hammer. Or a mug of scalding coffee. Or a supple laptop cord…or…

There is only one thing that can save you from the murderous wrath: total submission. To us. Find your best pieces, or else we’ll find your best pieces…not, not like that. IT’S TWO IN THE BLOODY MORNING, OK????!!! Send those pieces…of writing to thetoucanmag@gmail.com, and unless you want us to rip your submission to pieces, check out the submission guidelines at www.thetoucanonline.blogspot.com.

Um…did we just go all homicidal editrice? Is that against editricial policy? We don’t know, and right now, we don’t care, we’ll find out in the morning. We’re off to go snore in a dryer, cuddled up next to the best cat in the universe.

The always dressed to kill Liz and Laura, Toucan Editrices

Editrice Note: Grim? Toucan't Be Serious!

This is unlucky Issue 13, after all, and it’s going to be a dark, bitter, Editrice Note, because currently life seems dark and bitter and without redemption. Or sleep. Yes, sleep would be nice. Also the time to put one’s feet up on the couch. Well, if we had feet. Because we don’t have feet anymore. You want to know why? Because of the escalator.

We are not making this up, we have an essay about deadly escalators in this issue. We have a poem about YouTube. And one about break-dancing, which was presumably written before the breaker, (pardon us, we know the lingo now) got on the escalator.

Do you want to know what’s really going on with us, why we haven’t been our usual, cheery, punctual self? It’s really not the loss of our feet. We’re trying to put our lives together, getting real jobs, pretending we can exist in the nonfictional world, all the while shelving books and writing, or not writing. And we don’t really have time between all this, to do much of anything. Not even figure out why our hair looks like it—

“Oh, just admit it, Liz,” Laura screams from the escalator, where her long mane is currently entangled, in sort of a reverse Rapunzel. “You don’t want to do this Editrice Note, anyway. You don’t want to do this issue. You want to pour yourself a whiskey and Coke and watch Dead Poets Society for the 17th time. But I’m onto you, you little faker. I’m onto you.”

“Really? ‘Cause it seems like all you want to do is to play Beatles Rockband and watch Doctor Who and knit argyle bikinis.”

“So what? At least I’m making stuff. YOU don’t appear to making much of anything. Not even an effort. What is with you? Ever since you found that hussy of yours…”

"HEY NOW, HEY NOW..."

What is the most important thing in life, Toucan fans? Is it sanity, or is it love, or is it responsibility? Because honestly, we don’t know any more. Is it learning not to complain? Is it learning how to deal with feelings of failure and emptiness, even if perhaps they have very little basis in reality?

We would put submission info here, like we always do, but frankly we might not get to you for a while. We would tell you when these issues would expect to appear in stores, or God forbid, be sent out, but all of those would be fanciful, optimistic lies, and we love you too much to do that to you. That’s why we hurt you so much. Yeah, we’re twisted like that, but at least we’re honest about it.

Sorry we can’t make it to being funny this time. Give us a few months, and maybe we’ll get the old wit back in our pen. For now, our noses are to the grindstone, and our feet jammed firmly in the escalator—the escalator of life.

Liz and Laura, the harried Toucan Editrices

Editrice Note: Summer of Love (and other stuff)

It’s not so much the fact that this is the summer issue. It’s the fact that it’s our 12th issue, and we frankly can’t believe we’ve let this nonsense go on as long as it has. Someone really should have stopped us by now. Seriously. We’re waiting. Go get your Toucan nets and stop us.

WAITING….well, since no one has, we suppose we’ll have to be the ones to draw an end to this madness. Wait a minute, this is sounding suspiciously like a goodbye. Don’t worry, it isn’t…yet. But we have to admit in recent months the whole thing has gotten a bit beyond us, especially since we love to pile things onto our lives as if life was an all-you-can-eat buffet; except the worst kind, because you can’t go back more than once. Wow, that was a terrible simile, worst one we’ve penned in a while. Maybe we should get out of this business.

One of these dishes: If you’ve been following our posts at all, you know Editrice Liz finally has a love life. She has no idea why she feels compelled to publish this in her magazine, except for the now-obvious fact that The Toucan took the place of her love life for a long time. Talk about beaks in all the wrong…no, no, we are NOT going there. For the love of God and birdseed, let’s talk about the issue instead!

We conclude “The Villainy of Hamlet”, the epic poem we began publishing in the last issue. If it was a truly epic poem, yeah, it’d still be going, but cut us a little slack, OK? Summer is invoked with “Heat” and “Intergalatic Baseball”, which has got to be more entertaining than watching our Chicago teams suck it up. Perhaps the lack of gravity and air resistance would help them hit? Ryan Mattern sharpens his chops on a new genre, (you may have previously read his stellar fiction in the mag), and love encounters the devil, “Woodpeckers”, and, well, shit. You can see why almost anything would be an improvement over having your love life be The Toucan.

In case you feel the overwhelming need to distract we harried editrices even more, you can always submit! We’re definitely looking for more visual art, perhaps some in color to be published as web-only, and poetry is always at a premium. Check out our guidelines at http://www.thetoucanonline.blogspot.com/, and send said work to thetoucanmag@gmail.com. Now if you’ll excuse us, we’ll go back to making out….whoa, we meant laying out (or maybe making up? Hard to tell) this issue. Awfully Freudian typo, wasn’t it?

Rrrrkkk, rrrrkk….RRRKKK….LIZ….LIZ…

Errr, excuse us. We need to go explain to the Toucan that the romantic relationship and/or snuggle sessions on the branch are OVER.

Happily paired but not together (which would result in the destruction of the city of Chicago, at minimum),

Liz and Laura, Toucan Editrices

Whoa whoa, Editrice Note....

There must be some unwritten policy that everything goes bananas in Spring. The trees are busy flowering, the professors busy assigning interminable edits, Editrice Liz busy trying to keep her various projects in the air before they all crash down around her ears, and Editrice Laura busy working her way through a fifth of bourbon. No, just kidding. She’s a very sedate 21-year-old, which is why we appreciate her. Liz, on the other hand, is a dancing machine. And we all knew the Toucan was a party bird anyway. Bit of a sketchy character. We spent hours staring at Wyl Villacres’s excellent cover, trying to figure out each and every symbol the bird’s composed of. Good, maybe that way we can distract you lot from picking out (drunken) typos.


Anyhoo, this issue is a boon to foodies. We’re serving “Chicken Fingers Parmagina”—it’s a recipe, go look!—omelets, more potential omelets… We also are incredibly excited about the epic poem, “The Villainy of Hamlet”, whose conclusion will appear in the Summer Issue. Imagine, in this day and age, and epic poem! (Though we have to say, laying out epic poems is an experience fraught with epic fail.) We’ll introduce you to some new friends—Tannen Dell, editor-in-chief of our hip West Coast cousin mag, Indigo Rising, Chelsey Baggot, the shortest pin-up girl you’ll ever meet, B.D Fischer, new Chicagoan who terrifyingly, follows Toucan advice in regards to Chicago entertainment, and Jacob Edwards, an Aussie who regales with completely true tales of David Byrne and self-propelled cabbages, and who we already know will be headlining our Fall Issue. Plus, we have our intrepid Bahraini, Ali Al Saeed, fighting for democracy one omelet at a time. Old friends include JANEisnot plain, with us from nearly the beginning, Chris Crittenden, our laughing, laudatory Owl pal, and Beth Rolingson/Tom Besson, whose marriage is one of beauty and art. And of course, San Fran Dan throws in his 200 bucks. And now to wrap up this little note.

Liz: Phew, that wasn’t very funny. Laura, anything to add?

(Laura staggers in, a pair of flowered panties over her head)

Laura: The hiiiiilllllsre alive, witda sounda MUUUUUSIC…

Liz: Um, yes, Laura, yes, they are, thanks to your lovely—

Laura: Shubmmitda TOUCAN!

Liz: What a terribly lucid drunk you make. Well, folks, it’s thetoucanmag@gmail.com and thetoucanonline.blogspot.com if you care to take her up on it….

Laura: Don’t WAIT until Augusht!

With as much sobriety as the occasion allows,

Liz and Laura, Toucan Editrices

Editrice Note: TouCanada, With Love

Once upon a time, Editrice Liz was in love. Editrice Liz was in love with someone whose greatest aspiration was to be… Canadian, despite living in commodious Illinois. In fact, in their copious emails (such are the hazards of writers’ romance), Liz’s significant other used exclusively “Canadian” spelling (mouldy, colour, favourite) to pledge allegiance to Ottawa. This was not why love ended, as your valiant Editrice found this quirk charming, nor (take the needle off the record) are the echoes of lost affection reason for the Canadian Issue. However, it is the inspiration for the proliferation of Canadian spellings you see in these pages—we promise it has nothing to do with being too lazy to copy-edit (what was that about the Kids in the Hall marathon?). Liz just misses those extraneous u’s.

But alas, you need not know the sordid affairs of the editrices’ hearts. The Valentine’s Day issue was last year, and this year, our February issue appears on Heritage Day, Canada’s Valentine to itself. Ever since we posted on a Canadian writers’ site, http://www.placesforwriters.com/, we’ve wanted to send our Northerly friends a Valentine too. Our Canadian pals and those impersonating Canadians for issue purposes have voices that will stick in your head long after you rest the pages in a bed of maple leaves (good luck finding them in all the snow). Canada does not get off clean here—the characters paint it as a confused, overly placid democracy in “Suburban Sushi Blues”, with subways like the rest of the world and even the threat of cougars prowling Toronto streets (the animal variety). The poets are tortured souls wrestling with “Truth” and giving a “Scowl” to progress. And, in a nod to the recently averted holiday, we have some “Literary Missed Connections” for you, just in case you missed a date with Romeo, Gatsby, or Scarlett. We know we did, sadly—the green bulb must have blown before we could slip on our curtain dress. Oh, incidentally, check out Editrice Laura’s cartoons—they may confirm some of your suspicions about our editorial procedure, just sayin’.

While we’ve realized in putting this issue together how much we love Canadians’ work—after all, they gave us Glenn Gould, the aforementioned Kids, and the original ghost writer of the Hardy Boys—we want to hear from you, no matter where you are. So check us out online at www.thetoucanonline.blogspot.com. If you like what you see, send some work to thetoucanmag@gmail.com; we can always use a scribble here and there. Yes, Liz’s IO, even from you, and should you encounter your shout-out, hope you handle it with humour despite the lack of contractual agreement.

The 3000-mile away neighbours, eh

Liz and Laura, Toucan Editrices

Editrice Note-To an Unfrozen Computer...

When laying out a magazine, some issues go together very nicely. The Fall Issue was like that. “Finally we know what we’re doing,” we thought, leaning back and sipping our mochas. This issue…was possessed. Pages suddenly classified “read-only”, locked for editing by some unknown force; we suspect a poltergeist. Editrice Liz’s brains deserted her as all Toucandom was nearly treated to a poem twice in the issue—but NO, you don’t want to hear about OUR problems. The Editrice note should be a time of enlightenment, of elucidation. Or, you get to read our minds, which should come with a protective shield and massive sticky security labels.


Last issue was the “Fiction” issue, contentwise. This issue had a preponderance of poetry, as individual as snowflakes and nearly as numerous. You know what happens when you ignore poets—eventually they come out from under their rocks and assault you with snowballs. There are some similarities—the poems are either quite long or quite short, with little in between. And quite a few pieces in here are somewhat depressing, with just a light frosting of humor value. We visit nursing homes, psychiatric wards, communist Russia, “1992”, and the scene of an electrocution. Even our art piece, “Firing Squad”…cheerful. Yet there’s a sort of reflective quality at work in poems like “Midnight Laptop” and “Art”. After all, when you’re stuck inside and it’s dark and freezing out, what else better do you have to do? Oh, we know! Try to teach yourself Portuguese, thanks to the helpful translation of “Iguatemi” included by Hugh Fox.

Winter is not the toucan’s natural habitat, though from our cover picture you can’t really complain about how he’s adapting. Any presents for the darling editrices? No…well fine, then, just don’t forget which side your bread is buttered on, Mr. Anyway, The Toucan, being composed of hardy Chicagoans, is doing just fine with the season’s biting chill. How do you like our new feature, the Poem of the Week? Yes, we are aware it needs a more original name, but at least you know what it is! Every Friday a poem is posted on our website, http://www.thetoucanonline.blogspot.com/ for you to peruse and get your weekly verse fix.

Thanksgiving was just a few days ago, so let us run through what we are truly thankful for. We are thankful for submissions, both good and awful. Either way, send ‘em to thetoucanmag@gmail.com. We are thankful for our Toucan Fans—and let us just say we don’t think you’re awful, though if we stumble upon a giant Toucan bonfire, we will certainly revise our opinion. We are thankful that Liz’s mother still finances us. We are thankful that, though it becomes more of a struggle with age, we can still find time to wrestle with poems with funny formats, poltergeist aside. Now, pass the hot chocolate.

Warm regards, happy holidays, and beware the eggnog,

Liz and Laura, Toucan Editrices

Stress and Coffee--Editrice Note

Those are the two overwhelming preoccupations of The Toucan Editrices when they are not having heartfelt, poignant debates over submissions. Well, Editrice Laura prefers oranges. And Editrice Liz likes a good novel, but we do it all for you, toots.

We hope everyone and everything had a good summer. This is the first time the bird did not vacation—you may recall a certain yellow-covered Summer Issue that came out ‘round July 1st. Yes, he was on a beach with a beautiful girl, but dang, it was work! Once again, we’d like to thank all our contributors. We now receive consistent submissions and will only cease to publish upon the death of both Editrices (which may or may not be caused by a deluge of submissions). Just when we thought our luck as complete ruddy amateurs was dwindling, MORE came. This is encouraging. And we still want to encourage you to send us the writing from under the bed. Make sure you dust it off first, and take a look at guidelines and all relevant stuff on www.thetoucanonline.blogspot.com. Then when you have ensured you are enclosing a work of…we’re afraid “genius” will scare you, so we’ll go all Monty Python, “Personal Best”—send em’ to thetoucanmag@gmail.com, and the debating shall begin.

This issue is a bit shorter than the two previous, but it sure hits the mark for quality. The scales are tipped for fiction, we admit. Maybe it’s the alliteration, fall, fiction, “Flower Power”…and by the time you finish that one you’ll have even more questions about what’s in the mascot’s cigar. But there’s a sobering, bracing quality to the work. Suicide is contemplated, death is pondered, realizations laid bare, voyages meet with “Various Crash Landings” and THE HIPPY IS GOING EXTINCT! Eventually, “It All Becomes Fiction” and fall is as good a time as any to remind ourselves of that. But we do wish our readership would avoid bears, otherwise you might be pondering death sooner than you think. We do not “Refuse To Educate”: “Mountain Guide For Avoiding Bears” is our PSA. “Charming”, isn’t it?

Having beaten around the bush sufficiently, you probably are all expiring from curiosity about the absolutely adorable, incredibly handsome and manly model on our cover. The story behind it is a little cagey, but we will tell you that that fine bird is the original, the one, the only. You can see him for yourself somewhere outside Chicago. He’ll call “rrKKK, rrKKK” and your heart will melt to the point where he could pick it out of your chest with his beak and gently toss it back to you (toucan courting ritual, no joke). Our love to this bird, but especially the San Fran Dan.


Making like trees and leafing,

Liz and Laura, Toucan Editrices

Editrice Missive--When life gives you lemons, you know what time of year it is.

Editrice Liz never thought she would have to credit her mother in this note. But she paced back and forth downstairs, being bitter, trying to think of something to say on the squeezed dry topic of summer. “I don’t want to be as sour and depressing as I really feel,” she said. “Then no one will ever want to pick up this magazine, not even for the unabashed honesty of the editrices!” It was at this fateful juncture that the Mother Figure suggested lemonade, of which there was a convenient jug in the fridge.

And that’s the story, folks. If you like summer, you might like lemonade. And no, life hasn’t given us a freighterload of lemons lately. No more than the usual weekly delivery. Just can’t think of anything to say in the missive from the Editrices, that’s all. Well, this will be our longest issue yet—44 pages dripping with type—crap, they’re not supposed to be dripping—dammit Editrice Laura, how many times have I told you not to drink that stuff around the proofs? Now go get a towel and a glass for our mascot, and see if you can persuade it (often the gender of a toucan cannot be discerned without genetic testing) to stop smoking that stogie. We have a pulchritudinous specimen on the front, referring to the bird-bird, not the…bird. Clearly, we’ve lost our minds, so we’ll shut up now and tell you about the issue. And not our issues.

We had a little fun here, especially with the poems. We were feeling lighthearted before we started drinking lemonade. “Cash and Carry” has the rather fantastic distinction of being the only poem we know of containing the lines “And I burped!” And aren’t you just dying to know what on earth the creation of human emotion has to do with Oreo cookies? Or are you just hungry? Well then, better make sure “The Truth Fairy” hasn’t swiped any of yours…she has a nasty habit of doing that, you know.

Before we spread this fowl mood any further, we’d better go jump in the nearest lake. If you’re interested, and you know you are, Editrice Liz recently did an interview with Duotrope. Find it at http://www.duotrope.com/interview.aspx?id=4420. As always, check out our site at www.thetoucanonline.blogspot.com, and if you have anything to send our way, it should be going to thetoucanmag@gmail.com. We’re all full for fall, but why not shoot for a piece in the issue diametrically opposed to this one, AKA winter?

Summertime, and the magazine business is mildly aggravating. So we’re off to have an ice-cube fight.

The sweltering, sticky, occasionally sweet but more often sour editrices,

Liz and Laura (guess who's who)

Editors' Note--SPROING!

The sound you are hearing is both the sound of spring having sprung and our magazine massively expanding. We at The Toucan are excited about both. And what’s not to love about Spring? Flowers, sunshine, Earth Day, toucan mating season—we did notice this issue has at times verged towards the randy. But since the pieces were well-written, we’ll blame it on spring fever. Although this pretty much guarantees that our submissions pile will be even stranger from now on…

But seriously folks, we’ve appreciated the warm response we got when we posted ourselves on Duotrope. If you haven’t heard of it, you should. It’s a website great for both writers and editors—we put out the call for submissions, you respond with your pieces. And so we grow, like the flowers in the spring, la de da, we love flowers…sorry about that.

Since we last published, we’ve stuck our beaks out. We’re now distributed at two more stores in the Chicago area, the ShopColumbia store and Women And Children First. We also were at the Chicago Zine Fest with our T-shirts and talking mascot and had a blast. And we flew into the 21st century and got a Facebook page, which can be a bit ponderous to update when you have a beak as long as ours, but we manage. No matter how you’ve come to us, we want to welcome you. Thanks for fitting this bird into your life, and the best part about us is that we come with our own newspaper of sorts.

Gosh, what do we say about the so-called waste disposal system? Well, first, that we certainly don’t think it should be used for waste disposal. We’ve doubled the amount of fiction with everything from deepening friendship to a satirical take on game shows to two quietly springlike prose pieces, to…well, you just go ahead and read it, OK? The poems run a similar gamut, from the flirty “iCrush/Crash” to the reflective “Galaxies” and “Listening To The Rain”. Tom Besson tops off the issue with a cover he made just for us—and we also love our new logo. We’ll miss the monocle, but never fear, we still, like Floyd, have a cigar.

So, have you sprained your wrist yet? Got a paper cut flipping through all the extra pages? Remember, you could be in those pages if you only submit! Our Summer Issue (yeah, that’s a new thing too) is nearly full, we have no more room for prose, but poets can still squeeze in there. After reading the guidelines at www.thetoucanonline.blogspot.com, send your stuff along to thetoucanmag@gmail.com, where the editrices make eager readers. In the meantime, Toucan fans old and new, happy spring! Stay inside when there’s lightning, and don’t trample too many flowerbeds.

The bloomin’ Editrices,

Liz and Laura

Editors' Note--Love Is In The Air

Okay, maybe not. But perhaps it is, since you picked up our Valentine’s Day issue. This year, this is the only good thing about V- Day, since Liz’s grandiose plans got unnecessarily preempted. Sigh. Oh well. Hey, this issue actually has a few pieces that fit our lovely theme. We start off with um, a failed relationship, and end with, um…a failed relationship. But never mind that! Because we at The Toucan get bored when we’re not discussing our love lives, we have some tips for improving yours. Namely, literary pickup lines. C’mon, if you’re reading this, you: A. Are literate and hip, and B. Need all the romantic help you can get.

• I’d like to flip through your chapters.
• Are you open to interpretation?
• Will you be My Antonia?
• You know The Great Gatsby? Yeah, well, I’m better.
• I can tell a book’s quality by running my hands down its spine, and you look like a fantastic read.
• The Age of Innocence has officially ended.
• You wouldn’t be reading A Farewell to Arms if you were in mine.
• I wish I could see you without your dust cover.
• I’ll treat you better than a first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice.
• Let me fill your margins with my ink.
• Were you to have A Room of One’s Own, would I be included?
• Like a good book, I can’t wait to curl up with you.*
• Looking at you, I feel like Sydney Carton. You’re a far, far better thing than I’ve ever done.

*some guy actually tried a variation of this one on Liz the night after we thought these up. In a bookstore, of course. In his defense, she was whistling at Norman Mailer.

So, yeah. We really, really, REALLY don’t recommend giving these a shot (note Liz’s bookstore suitor was NOT successful), but if you’re desperate and/or are really turned on by these and start churning out lit pick-ups of your own, let us know about them by commenting at www.thetoucanonline.blogspot.com, or drop us a line at thetoucanmag@gmail.com. That goes for submissions, too, people!!! We <3 submissions. We need them more urgently than affection!!!

Well, that’s about it before we binge on chocolate roses. Thanks to the Bird’s real Valentine, Dan Cirilo, and his randy raven, EAP.

Love and hugs, Liz and Laura, Toucan Editrices

Editors' Note--Only Slightly Alarming...

It’s that creepy time of year again, folks, and we at The Toucan are experts in creepy. But aside from that, it’s so nice to be writing these notes again. How was everyone’s summer…wait, summer, when was THAT? Yep, Happy Halloween. The vast majority of people (but not me) I know will be spending their Halloween getting drunk. So is The Toucan, as you can plainly see. And look! He invited some slugs and bats to share the booze. Apparently slugs really like beer…who knew?

Enough of this nonsense. Point is, we’re back with a rollicking good issue. We say that every time, ‘cause it’s true. We have a little more art, a photo accompanying one of Dan Cirilo’s poems, and of course, the aforementioned Toucan partying heartily away. The poems this time seem to have a theme, a bit, of time passing, of fun had, of mistakes made and learned from, of something greater than yourself. That wasn’t purposeful, we’re not trying to attack you with some big life lesson. If we were you’d know about it. We’re not very stealthy. What this has to do with Halloween, I don’t know. Maybe because every Halloween you are inexorably getting older. You started off in pint-size Winnie-The-Pooh costumes and are now sewing your own sheepskin or shoving a pillow down your shirt to look like Gertrude Stein.

About the only alarming thing in here other than an errant typo or two would be “Untitled Document”, but don’t let the blood scare you off from some hypnotic writing and dystopian dreams. Oh, and “Society Can Be A Bitch”. Society is as scary as hell. I mean, fashion models? Frightening. Not to mention alienation. Enjoyable, but scary. The Toucan does not do fashion, despite its last time out in a prom dress, and it only alienates itself on days ending in Y. But if good writing’s your goal, you’ll find it here.

Something you’ll also find, finally, are short contributor bios. It took us a while, but it seems like every other mag had them and we didn’t. And in this case, we thought society might be onto something. Sure you gave them a look already if you got to here, but just like you want to know the doctor who does your lobotomy, you want to know the people who write for your lit mag. And us, of course. We said something too, as if we don’t say enough. We think we have now.

We do really, really, need submissions to keep airborne, so send your souls and scribblings to thetoucanmag@gmail.com!!! And stay updated with our blog. Some exciting distribution possibilities are in the works, and the blog will carry the first developments of the flowers in our feathers should it thrive!

Ta Ta, Liz and Laura, (according to Dan Cirilo, we should be the edit-duces extraordinaire. Two-can, you know :) But we are, in fact, editrices.)

Back Page--Editor's not=EditorS NOTE

There should be lots of good news for you Toucan fans. You should be hearing about our release party/reading, acclaim, national distribution and submissions from T.S Eliot…FOOLED YA! T.S Eliot’s DEAD. It’s not April, heck, it’s not even May 1st anymore, but May 1st reminds me of our first piece of good news—it’s Laura Rynberg’s birthday. Who’s she, you may ask, and why would my normally only slightly insane fave lit mag advertise her birthday? Well, she’s our lovely new editor, or, as she’d say, editrice. She’s an artist by trade (avant-garde artiste to you hoi polloi), but she packs a mean punch. With forks. And her abbreviation is TM, for “taxidermy mosquito”. Oh, never mind, let her talk: Hullo. Some of you may already know who I am, but I'll introduce myself anyway. I was a part of a traveling circus in the freak show (obviously for my writing skills). Liz got me out of the show and took me in as editrice and part-time page-filler. My silly doodles grace one of the pages in this fantastic publication in order to match the silly poem. In interest of space I'll stop while I'm behind, and if you wish to know more, email The Toucan. Ta.
And now you know we’re going to gush about this issue. Basically, as a joke, TM and I are calling it the prom issue. It drifted this way with our first submission, the satirical “Promcoming”, and it just kept going with “A Corny Story”, which is only slightly corny. Plus, it’s prom season. Let me take this moment to remind you all not to drink and drive or buy neon orange tulle dresses. Some more high school memories: for me, math class was only good for poems. Poems, good, Calc BC…shudder. But yet I love the poem “mathematics”. In this issue, the poets stepped it up for sure. New and established voices abound, both with excitement. We might not have national distribution, but we have INTERNATIONAL submissions in “Bomb Scare” and “Aubade”. There’s poems for every palate (or palette), from the lovingly penned “Poem (s) about The Dog and Stork”, to haikus that are not just about nature anymore. “Corner Sweets”, anyone? And “The Longing Adventures of a Perplexed Gourd” needs no further …anything.
So, I suppose you want to know about the release party. So do we. Still in the works, proving difficult. We appreciate all of your suggestions. With the end of the semester, we’re up in the air, but we’ll see what we can do in the future. As always, drop us a line at mailto:thetoucanmag@gmail.%20com or on the blog, at thetoucanonline. blogspot.com. We’re thinking about an online-only summer edition with some backlogged work, so keep checking it out for that, and WE’LL keep you posted. I love the plural pronoun now, TM. And of course, SUBMIT!!! Guidelines on the blog, and send work to the email. Toodles, enjoy the sun. The Toucan will.

Regards, Liz AND Laura (or TM), Editrices Extraordinaire

Back Page--So ya got through it again (Editor's Note)

Oh boy. The editor’s note. Loved suddenly remembering to write that last minute.
We do hope you enjoyed our last issue, which is why you likely bawled with undisguised joy when you saw that familiar chain-smoking bird grinning at you from either the English office or that handy table on the Fiction Writing floor. The fact that we did another issue speaks to either our inherent craziness or your enjoyment. I’ll just say both. And we really are pretty darn excited about this issue… it’s kind of a habit of ours. For one thing, we found a few more poets under rocks, dazzling their flaky language about wildly when coaxed. We’ve been reminded of “Burnt Sienna” mornings on the L along with other “Fatelistic Trains”, the perils of “Chronic Indecision”, and even being at war with your own name, ala Laura of “Laura: At War”. Alice makes a triumphant encore in Part One of “Alice Gothica”, we meet “Ghosts of the South Building” and a “Designated Hitter”, and encounter utter vividness and dystopia in “The Journalist of Fingers”. I think we did OK for ourselves second time around, whatta ‘bout you?
But we need support if we are to keep airborne (it’s a Toucan, ha ha). Definitely in the form of submissions. WE NEED SUBMISSIONS. ESPECIALLY POETRY. There were probably more elegant ways of saying that, but we, as you can tell, are not overburdened with elegance. Now, don’t you fictionatos out there give up, since you guys have been great about submissions. Not that we want this to turn into a competition or anything, but poets and prosers alike, you can show your love and hopefully talent by submitting to thetoucanmag@gmail.com. Our next issue: Early May.
Also, really, the blog, thetoucanonline.blogspot.com, is a helpful and fun resource. The more you check it out, the more we’ll update it. Especially because, dang it, we want to have a release party sometime this century. This will be two issues without a party, and since our mascot is a highly social smoker who is inspired by smoking at parties, this is UNACCEPTABLE. We want to organize a reading, writing, talking, and of course eating extravaganza. Literature is nothing without food, right? We merely need venue suggestions, which can be submitted at the email address or on the blog. However, Senor Toucan is not a tipsy bird, plus he’s underage, so only a hangout that is not 21+ works.
In closing, the usual thx apply, but we’d like to give a special shout-out to Jeanne Lombaer, who was so brainwashed by our brilliant green cover... she found other ways to support us and we wish some of you readers had green on the brain. Thank you, Mrs. Lombaer, our first (and currently only) lifetime subscription holder. Viva you, and La Toucan too!

Editor Liz

Back Page-- Dear Intrepid Reader (Editor's Note)

Bonjour. We are The Toucan, and this is an editor speaking.
We’re a new literary magazine. Therefore, we need money, paper, staples, time, and hot dogs, but mostly submissions. If you picked this up, attracted by the neon cover, good. That was our plan. We do, however, hope you enjoyed our little adventure in mind control. If you’re interested in us, ya like what ya read, and you fiddle around with prose, poetry, creative nonfiction, flash fiction, etc. we want your stuff. We’d like to distribute the next issue around March 1st, if you’re one of those people who needs a deadline. We accept submissions at thetoucanmag@gmail.com, and we’re also online, at thetoucanonline.blogspot.com, where we have submission information, the contents of the magazine for those who don’t have the power of paper, and occasional announcements. We might have a release party, so check out the blog for details soon!
This issue is fantastic not only because it’s our first, but because it’s fantastic. From the subversive polysyllabic beginning of “How To Live Like A Literary Genius”, to the surrealistic channeling of Lewis Carroll for “White Rabbit”, to the beautiful phrasing of “Dream Logic” and shock of “Stop Screaming! It’s Only Foreplay”, we think we it’s something special. Well, we would say that. You read it, don’t you think so?! Say yes…
As I listen to the printer steadily choking out pages in the background, mutilating many in the process, I remembered I didn’t want to write a sappy editor’s note. Or be any more self-centered than necessary. Therefore, some thanks are in order.
To everyone who submitted. We almost had to stuff pages with our pseudonymed crap, but you saved us that fate. We’d rather have your work, anyway. To the Sandburg HS lit mag, Expressions. Especially you, A and D. This is ALL your fault. To Columbia College, for helping artists everywhere, esp. the Fiction Writing Department’s Publishing Lab. To my mother for the stapler, paper, printer, food, college education and moral support. And definitely to Olivia, (also known as Princess Coffee), my fellow editor and dear eccentric friend.
Now START WRITING. Though we claim no responsibility for the results, send them to us anyway. You know our name and email, look up the page.

Viva La Toucan!
Editor Liz