Dearest RWW Community—

I don’t know what it is about fall that makes me think of time. Maybe it’s watching the days grow shorter or inching closer to the end of the year that increases my awareness of passing hours. This is also extra apparent because my cohort is in our final year of RWW.

Time is also reflective of “the times,” and these times are unrelenting. I often picture all the members of the RWW family spread out across the United States (and the world) to remember there are people creating art within the chaos, which reminds me to breathe.

Time is beautifully paradoxical. The presence of it encourages us to both make space in our days and fill them to the brim. For me, it’s the urge to slow down and hibernate in the big dark of the Pacific Northwest, yet squeeze in an extra hour or two of writing. As always, it’s an invitation to do both.

In her recent flash class, “Modern Muses: Crafting Poetry from Social Media, Autocorrect, and the Everyday,” Kelli Russell Agodon asked participants to share a favorite word. It was a synchronistic moment, as I had been ruminating on the word “respite.” What does respite look like in these times? Where do safe spaces exist? What opportunities are available to pause? Maybe reading through the pages of this issue of Soundings will be a small respite for you. A short stopover to celebrate our RWW community before the next tragic headline.

In this issue we take a closer look at the publishing side of writing, with words of wisdom from three faculty members: Wendy Call, Kelli Russell Agodon, and Aram Mrjoian. We also hear from two RWW graduates, Kalehua Kim and Jasmmine Mendez, who are navigating the publishing industry. We revisit the respite of the 2025 summer residency with a photo essay, and as always, share publications, announcements, and literary citizenship. Enjoy.

Kerry Heckman
Editor