One of the best pieces of advice I have received is “check your motivation.” It’s easy to get on with life and not do it, perhaps not even think of doing it. When we do things that need to be done, there’s no need to ask why, right? If we do things that we think we want, well, those desires can cloud even the best intentions and push us off course. We do things we’ve done many times before, so it’s automatic, and we apply the old infomercial cliché to ourselves, set and forget.

Here’s my attempt to put that advice into practice. I ask myself: What are my motivations behind this publication? What makes it worth doing?

To impress people I meet? (I wish!) The sense of accomplishment? (Maybe a little.) The money, all those extra zeros in the Wild Roof PayPal account…? (Ha!)

I value connection.

Although it’s quite rare to meet with contributors in real time, there is very much a sense of being connected to their work and taking part in sharing it with others. I’m quite certain every piece in this issue has a story—what inspired it, how it came together, who gently nudged it to completion, who grabbed ahold and yanked when it stalled out. If I am able to step in and place that finished piece within an engaging context and present it to a supportive audience, I have made a worthwhile effort.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve met with some writers for feedback sessions and informal workshops, and I’ll maintain that I get as much out of them as the people to whom I’m offering suggestions! It’s been quite rewarding to see poems in the midst of their development and to talk about how to best tweak, adjust, revise, add, omit, move, or merge what’s on the page. Being connected to another artist’s creative journey is an honor and a joy.

Sharing some of my own work is the other side of that coin. If you follow the WRJ Instagram account, you’ve probably seen me send out poetry postcards over the past month and re-post when recipients confirm their arrival. I drew a picture, wrote seven or eight lines, stuck a stamp—and got out of the way. I told myself: “Once it’s in the mailbox, it’s out of my hands!” But most importantly, it’s also into someone else’s hands. It’s a small gesture perhaps, but one of genuine connection.

Will these be my motivations next year—who knows? I’ll check back in with you, though.

Aaron Lelito – Founder and editor in chief