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5/7 - Tom Loughlin 

        5/14 - Adam Robinson 

        5/21 - David E. Poston

        5/28 - Sara Sutterlin

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Be sure to read Fiction Editor Kay's writing prompt below, where RPD invites you to be a part of a collaborative project based on Yoko Ono's interactive artwork "Wish Tree" (1996).
May 2014
With this being only our sixth issues, The Rain, Party, & Disaster Society has already grown into something much greater and more wonderful that any of our staff could have originally foreseen. It took on a life of it’s own and evolved beyond our wildest dreams. Over the past six months, we have worked with over 90 contributors, all of whom bring something unique to the publication. We wanted to give you some insight into what we give them in return.
The Rain, Party, & Disaster Society is different from other online literary publications in that we don’t read submissions blind (meaning we see everyone’s name attached to their work) and we almost never accept a work as-is. As writers ourselves, we know how nerve-racking it is to submit your work to a publication. You wait, sometimes for months, for a response and then all you get is a “thanks, but no thanks” e-mail. Or, if you’re lucky, you get a “hey, we’re taking this! It’ll be up some time in the next six weeks.” We want to get to know our contributors, their voice, their style, and why they write. The only way to do that is to constantly communicate with them and offer whatever we can to bring their work to that next level. When our submission period opens on the first of each month, we regularly check the incoming submissions, carefully combing through each one. The pieces we decide are not right for our publication are notified as soon as possible and those individuals are always offered a detailed explanation of why we did not accept their work. We do this to help give those individuals a better idea of what we are looking for in submissions as well as offer them some things to think about and try before submitting to us again. When we do feel a piece is a good fit for the magazine, we begin a dialogue with the author. We make suggestions, we give notes, and ask that they come back to us with new ideas and revisions. This builds a relationship of trust between us and our contributors. Not only do we want each work that we publish to challenge our audience, but we also want to challenge our contributors to make their work the best it can possibly be. Sometimes a fresh pair of eyes is all you need, and the RP&D editorial staff is here to help.
Part of the reason our publication is so small (we only post one work per weekday) is because of how much time we spend working with our contributors to bring you the best possible issue each month. We are so grateful for those who have submitted multiple times and those who continue to read each new work. Thank you for sticking with us. If you ever have any suggestions, want to know more about a contributor to RP&D, or just want to introduce yourself, feel free to send us an e-mail. We’re a big, weird, wonderful family now, and we are here to work with you to make the next six issues even better.

If all of this sounds lovely to you, but you're still not sure what to send us, don't worry. We enjoy fiction born in the darkest part of your mind. We drool over essays filled with fiery passion. We live for poetry that sits happily in our mouths for hours, even days, after reading. Maybe you participated in National Poetry Writing Month (good for you!) and you want to send us some of the things you created in April. Maybe you need a prompt, in which case we invite you to scroll down and pick one of the five Yoko-Ono inspired prompts we have for May. You can then submit your work between the 1st and 15th of this month. Send us anything and everything.
We want it all. We’re ready for it. We can handle it. 
We’re not for the faint of heart.

Most people will tell you what they've been reading, but we think where we've been reading is far more interesting.

JORDAN: I won’t lie, I do most of my reading in my bed these days. Whether it’s a book, a magazine or something on my computer, I’m probably reading it while curled up in the middle of the 8 pillows I sleep buried under. But if I had to pick an absolute favorite place, it would probably have been outside of the Reed Library at my alma mater, SUNY Fredonia. The second floor of the library had an outdoor walkway that connected it to another building next door, and along the sides of the walkway were huge cement benches built into the walls. I spent a lot of fall evenings there in the beginning of each school year, exploring my new textbooks, finishing up summer reads and jotting down overheard conversations in my notebook.

JEN: I absolutely love reading on porches or balconies in the summertime. I've lived in three places with those fixtures, including one house that had a back porch directly outside my bedroom. I'll grab a drink (lemonade during the day, wine at night) and some kind of fruit, head outside, put my feet up and read for two or three hours at a stretch. It's bliss. Runner up: next to the Niagara River.

KAY: on the kitchen floor with a good bottle of wine, by the living room window with a cool breeze, in a hot bubble bath (the kind you see in movies), under the covers on a leisurely morning - no matter the literal whereabouts, it's always in peaceful solitude, in comfort, in whatever place feels like home. 

BEE: In motion. On my morning A-train commute. On bus trips to DC. On walks through Washington Square park, narrowly avoiding passerby. On weeknights, pacing my kitchen, assembling ingredients in pots. On car rides to family's homes for seasonal gatherings. On city buses up Riverside Drive. On lines to get into venues, for late night concerts. On above-ground subway rides to edges of boroughs. On boats across the Long Island Sound. On international flights, more books in my carry-on than clothes. On my way to, in motion towards, in motion because. 

ALECIA: My favorite reading place is in front of a fire—a campfire, a fireplace, even a candle will do. In my Catskill cabin, I have a big, orange, velvet armchair set up in front of the woodstove, and it's pretty much heaven.


Event Scores, involve simple actions, ideas, and objects from everyday life re-contextualized as performance. Event Scores are texts that can be seen as proposal pieces or instructions for actions. The idea of the score suggests musicality. Like a musical score, Event Scores can be realized by artists other than the original creator and are open to variation and interpretation.

JORDAN: Open all the windows in your room, apartment, or house in the morning before you leave for the day. Upon returning home, write a descriptive essay about what you smell and how the scent of your space has altered in your absence.

JEN: Go somewhere in your town/city you've never been before. People-watch and compose stories about the most interesting people's lives.

KAY: based on yoko ono's interactive artwork "wish tree" (1996), rpd invites you to be a part of a collaborative project. write a wish on anonymous postcards, pre-strung white shipping tags, torn scrap paper, old grocery receipts, or extra take-out napkins and mail your wishes to: 440 porter ave. apt. 1 buffalo, ny 14201. when our wish tree is complete, we will dedicate a tumblr feature to the project.

BEE: You. I am writing this down for you. What other advice could I give than to do something or somethings that you think you shouldn't be doing. Recognize in your mind that there are a great deal of rules you've established for yourself that don't better your life. Put down your notions of selflessness and live selfishly for twenty-four hours, for a week, forever. Don't murder, don't steal a car, those restrictions aren't yours organically; but you should sleep with him, you should break up with her for no reason other than you need to right now, you should lie to the faces of the people that you love if it benefits you. Catalog every action on paper, detail it with the reason why, even if that reason is "I don't know." Then send that list to me, we'll make poetry of it, you and I. 

ALECIA: On a rainy day, drive into the mountains and stop at the first field you see. Lay down and open your mouth. Let your mouth fill to overflowing with rain. Write about how the rain tasted.


We've started archiving our past newsletters for your reading pleasure. 

Be sure to visit the archive of April's posts, neatly arranged in a digital "glossy" version.

Both can be found under the Archives tab at the top of the site.

Until next time, 
Jordan, Jen, Kay, & Bee (& Alecia)
The Rain, Party, & Disaster Society
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