Petrichor (pronounced /ˈpɛtrɨkər/; from Greek petra “stone” + ichor the fluid that flows in the veins of the gods in Greek mythology)
is the name of the scent of rain on dry earth.
(Thank you Wikipedia)
Petrichor Review is the love child of the three people listed below. They promise you will understand the meaning of something by perusing the pages of Petrichor Review, and that you will be a more enlightened, enjoyable, and endearing person because of it. There are thousands of literary magazines out there; Petrichor Review only hopes to bring more to the already insurmountable breadth of work being published. We think writing is one of the most important things there is, but only if it’s read.
Emma Nichols: Editor-in-Chief
Emma Nichols has still not decided what she wants to do for the rest of her life, but she has decided that it starts here, somewhere. Beyond writing and reading she enjoys baking bread and buying books. In the future she hopes to own a large house that doubles as a bookstore, with a pet pig named Hamlet, a pet penguin named Gunter, and a printing press in the basement, accessible through the cellar door. Her grammatical likes include oxford commas, semi-colons, ampersands, and properly punctuated poetry.
Pete Viola: Executor
Pete Viola is Executor, for what it’s worth. Petrichor Review is his firstborn literary journal, though he does have one adopted lit mag from a prior platonic dalliance. He swears to love them both equally. Lit mags aside, he copy edits for the New Paltz Oracle and is a summertime park worker. Also, he writes poetry, short stories and flash fiction, some works appearing in Chronogram, Stonesthrow Review and Awosting Alchemy. He is available by reservation to read verse (of your choice) at formal, informal or casual functions (business luncheons, birthday parties, autumn benders, etc.). Accents are extra.
Sean Case: Editor & All-Around American Boy
Sean Case is lazy, immature, and awfully boring. He likes cooking and watching Miyazaki films. He enjoys reading Stephen King, Philip K. Dick, and Truman Capote, and doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Born and raised in Monroe, New York, Sean knows what it’s like to live nowhere. It is lonely and lovely. Sean is a lifelong fan of lilacs, locomotives, and little cats. He thinks writing is terrifyingly important, and approaches it with cautious excitement.
Jenny Curtis: Resident Artist
Jenny Curtis is your typical gadabout ruffian who will mess you up with her bare (bear) teeth. if you get too close, on a bad day. However, she does like to snug sometimes, occasionally make art, nonchalantly add her pathetic opinions to Petrichor Review, and dance about in the waters. Other than that, it’s just all about little cats.
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