It’s been difficult at times to leave be whatever current flows beneath this process, when the view of the world beyond our windows is all but demanding we make a thematic statement. The inevitable effect doing so has on Assignment though, is toplace unnecessary guardrails on the scope of our selection process, while also adding an unfair editorial voice to those of the authors and artists within. In the end, what we found was that every one of our received submissions—whether or not they made it into the issue—was sent by someone looking out a window of their own; each searching for a way to interrogate that world, even if only to turn whatever questions they may be asking, over to you.

The thematic through-line here is that we’re all looking for our own way to navigate what we’re seeing and, far be it from us to tell them, as authors and artists, or you, as an audience, how to do so. The voices you’ll find in the pages that follow are strong enough that they should be allowed to speak on their own.

Lucid, the word has a delicious duality; it somehow feels both blurry and familiar. There’s a relatability to bringing awareness to your own lucidity and also a lot to analyze. As we read the submissions, we discovered that trying to examine the human experience with precision often brought us to places of greater blurriness. That was satisfying. What, if not being more confused after seeking clarity, is more representative of what it feels like to exist in this world?

Nonfiction shines in this issue, which is surprising because it’s typically our popular submission category. We love this because it naturally became a perfect expression of the theme

Emerge

The heart of emergence is discovery, and each piece ahead encompasses the emotional depth of what it means to discover or be discovered in a way previously unknown. Whether it’s learning about oneself or seeing through a shroud of darkness into another, new things are uncovered.  As writers and artists, these interpretations explore the many definitions and emotions associated with emergence.

Erosion

Erosion is a slow wearing away at something. It’s relentless, it’s continuous. This wearing can feel like a slice, like a wound scraped deeper and deeper. It can feel like entropy, a steadfast deterioration into personal anarchy. But erosion can also be necessary. It can be picking away at an obstacle, peeling away layers of trauma, or cracking open a shell and emerging reborn; for this, “Erosion” and “Renewal” are sister magazines. They follow each other in a loop, becoming more and more alike the closer you look.