By Lorna Reese

Once upon a time, way back in 2000, a trio of writers on Lopez Island in Washington State, so taken by the number of other writers on their island home, came up with the idea of starting a Writers Guild. The undertaking was inspired by a comment from Alie Smaalders that “Writers grow on the trees on Lopez.” I was one of that trio. Alie and Laurie Parker were the others.

Alie was an accomplished writer. Born in 1923 in a northern province of the Netherlands, she came of age during World War II when her country was, for five years, under German occupation. The Judgment Tree, her collection of short stories, earned her a prestigious award and a matching grant to record on CD The Sky Was a Brilliant Blue, a collage of her stories about living under German occupation in World War II.

The fabulous Laurie Parker, screenwriter, film producer, and teacher, grew up in Baltimore, moved to San Francisco at 17 where she studied dance, theater and film there before moving to Los Angeles and became a movie producer. She’s also a screenwriter and teacher. I always thought Laurie had never learned the word no. She always said “yes” to any idea presented to her. Then she worked hard to make it happen.

As for me, I had no “credentials” and had only recently begun writing after taking a memoir-writing course with Alie. But that class opened up the whole next chapter of my life.

Our first Guild meeting opened with Alie, in many ways my mentor, reading a quote from Margaret Atwood about calling oneself a writer. I looked in vain for that quote but found another almost as good: “If I waited for perfection, I would never write a word.” Exactly!

The Lopez Writers Guild flourished for several years, organizing presentations and workshops about various aspects of the writer’s life. Our most popular achievement was a years-long series of Lopez Writers Read evenings at our local community and arts center. These events garnered audiences of up to 75 people –sometimes more.

In 2000, feeling emboldened and inspired by the possibilities of the nascent Internet, the three of us had another idea: “Let’s start a magazine!” It’s a good thing we didn’t know much about what was involved as we plunged ahead. We created an online literary magazine geared towards our community (because of all the writers on the trees!). We invited submissions from any island writer and drafted another accomplished writer, Leta Marshall, to create the layout. We christened our fledgling magazine SHARK REEF after a beloved spot on our island. We chose that name because it had a bit of “bite” to it.

Our first issue (June, 2001) included pieces by both Alie and Leta, as well as a story by a terrific young student writer and another from a local fishing family’s highly-engaging Alaska fishing journal. We introduced the magazine to islanders at an opening on a big screen at Lopez Center to a crowd of other writers and readers. Imagine how exhilarating it was to see stories from our new magazine on the large screen. We had done it!

In those early days of SHARK REEF, now a quartet, we’d sit around Alie’s dining room table and pore over submissions. Alie had been a librarian, and the walls of her home were covered in shelves stuffed with books, spilling out onto tables, chairs and the floor. We’d drink tea, munch on Dutch cookies and discuss submissions. We wanted visuals, too, so we invited a local artist to be featured in every issue.

After publishing the first five issues of SHARK REEF to generous –- and well deserved, we thought — local acclaim, we felt encouraged and inspired and wondered, “why not publish a paperback anthology of previously-published selections?” So we did. Titled Currents, this volume of writing, chosen by several on- and off-island readers, appeared in 2003. We printed 1000 copies, figuring every writer (and their mothers) would want one. And they’d make great gifts! (Confession: we sold dozens but I still have 50 copies in my closet.) (Another confession: Currents included my memoir, “My Dirty Little Secret about my then “addiction” to soap operas.)

Though we had launched SHARK REEF in 2001 to give voice to emerging as well as established writers of the San Juan Islands of Washington State, we soon felt we wanted to offer the same opportunity to any serious writer committed to producing original writing of high quality – regardless of where they lived. We felt SR (our pet name for the magazine) was for writers “whose perspectives were often overlooked in the mainstream but whose voices are strong, and not driven by publishing trends, nuanced with a kind of truth that comes with first-hand experience.” (Another confession: this is from the “About” section on our website, which was written by Laurie.)

Since then, we’ve published 44 editions as well as a special 9/11 issue and one special Children’s Edition. More than 545 writers from all over the U.S. and around the world saw their work published on our pages, some of them more than once. Many, of course, with numerous other publishing credits. SHARK REEF nominated multiple writers for the Pushcart Prize in the last several years and many had been nominated by other publications as well. Additionally, many writers featured in SR went on to publish books, receive awards and garner outstanding reviews.

All of this speaks to the quality of the writing in SHARK REEF Literary Magazine as do the labors of our editors over the years, all of us working millions of hours for no pay at all. Here are the names of some of them to whom we owe a great debt of gratitude, in no particular order: Steve Adams, Jeremiah O’Hagan, Jill McCabe Johnson, Gary Johnson, Tom Aslin, John Sangster, Elizabeth Landrum, Heather Durham, Stephanie Barbé Hammer, Elder Zamora, Noel Pobliano, Gayle Kaune, Richard Widerkehr, Linda Conroy, Katie Marach, Shari Lane, Iris Graville, Judy Connor and myself.

Eventually, our loosely-organized Lopez Writers Guild, which founded SHARK REEF, disbanded. Actually, the board, of which I was a member, abdicated around 2005. (Yes, abdicated.) But it made sense for SHARK REEF to persist in efforts to give serious writers a place to see their work published. This was our mission, and the work was satisfying so we pressed on.

Along the way, we tried to be a good literary citizen. I can’t count the times we received compliments on the kindness of our “rejection” letters. Some of our editors offered to work with some writers whose work was “this close” so their work sparkled and was ready for publication in SR. We also offered to promote writers’ publication news on our own social media, and lots of them took us up on that.

Here are a few sweet stories that just popped into my head as I was writing this introduction. Brian Doyle, celebrated author of Mink River and Martin Marten, was gracious enough to send an essay to SR after being pounced on by an SR editor after a reading he gave on Lopez Island. That editor (me) had only meant to thank him for his unforgettable writing and give him a SHARK REEF bookmark. She (I) never expected him to send us an essay. But he did! (Issue 21, Winter 2013)

Christopher Nye, one of the founders of Orion Magazine and a terrific poet, submitted to our journal and was featured seven times. His poems are so stellar! So is the work of countless other poets we published. Go to our archives and see for yourself.

Another sweet story: Karen Fisher, author of A Sudden Country, a novel published by Random House and earning starred reviews in Publishers’ Weekly and Kirkus Review, was also featured in The New Yorker’s “Briefly Noted” column. We published her in our first issue, a poignant, compelling personal essay called “A New Life.” (June, 2001)

And still one more: Back in 2018, after managing SR for 18 years, I was feeling my age, tired and, honestly, tempted to give up SHARK REEF. It’s a LOT of work! That’s when Stephanie Barbé Hammer, herself a seven-time Pushcart Prize nominee in fiction, nonfiction and poetry, heard about this, thought about it, and then volunteered to take on the managing editor role – which she did so beautifully and gracefully until 2023 when Shari Lane stepped up to manage what we didn’t at the time know would become the last couple of issues.

Shari has a self-published upper middle grade series called The UnFairy Tale; a self-published novel, What the Dogs Know, part of The Dogs of Looser Island trilogy, which was published online in serialized format; and stories that appeared in several literary publications. And (trumpets!!) this spring, her novel, Two Over Easy All Day Long, was published by Golden Antelope Press. (A superb read, by the way.)

But. There’s often a but, isn’t there? Here goes: As it happens, SHARK REEF’s Winter 2024 edition published in January was the penultimate issue. After 24 years, it was the last one open to submissions from writers living around the globe. SHARK REEF has had a beautiful run and, in many ways, a charmed life, but none of it would have happened without the time, energy and commitment of so many other good literary citizens.

Over these two-and-a-half decades, several writers, all of whom had their own writing projects, committed to doing the necessary work behind the scenes, devoted time and energy needed to publish hundreds of writers over the years, worked without getting paid a cent. SHARK REEF has truly been a labor of love for many of us, and I continue to be eternally grateful to all of them!

By the way, as noted earlier, visual art was important to us at SR, too, and we featured the work of 44 different artists over the years, thanks to the help of art editor Judith Connor. In this, our swan song edition, we’re including photos of some of our recent editors. (They didn’t get paid either.)

Maybe a word about that: For most of its life, submitting to SR was free. When, ultimately, it became too challenging to manage submissions this way, we went with Submittable to make life a bit easier for all of us editors. But we made the submission fee as low as possible — $3 –- so the fee wouldn’t deter most writers from sending us their work.

I’m editor emerita now but, for the past several years, I’ve had a kind of waking dream to publish an issue featuring writers behind the scenes. When I floated this idea to SR’s current editors, they were enthusiastic about this project. They all agreed to provide writing of their own for this special edition. I wanted it to be a lovely kind of closure. Not a bang exactly, but not a whimper either.

So please savor the fiction, nonfiction and poetry in this last edition by Stephanie Barbé Hammer, past managing editor; Shari Lane, current managing editor and fiction editor; Aaisha Umt Ur Rashid, nonfiction editor; Richard Widerkehr, poetry co-editor; Linda Conroy, poetry co-editor; Iris Graville, publisher; and myself. (And look for their photos under Meet the Editors.)

One more thing: I asked our most recent editors if they wanted to share any thoughts about their time with the magazine. Again, the answer was a huge “yes!” Here’s what they said.

Stephanie Barbé Hammer, former managing editor
It was a true honor to work on the magazine as managing editor. Perhaps the greatest joys for me personally were: working with SR’s incredible nonfiction editors; and publishing writers who were either new to writing in general, or were new to writing in prose. Lifting up wonderful writers provided me with both enormous satisfaction and the sense that all of us at SR were contributing collectively to the well-being of the writing community at large! I will always be grateful to Lorna Reese for these life-changing experiences and this group of committed writer/editors.

Richard Widerkehr, poetry co-editor
“We made our close distinctions, best guesses. Listening to my co-editors, Gayle and then Linda, was good. Our fearless leader, Lorna, was always gracious and grateful to us. A side benefit I had not expected: learning from our contributors about places to send poems.”

Linda Conroy, poetry co-editor
Experiencing the submission process from “inside” is a valued outcome of reading poetry for SHARK REEF. Submitting my work used to feel like sending it into a vacuum, but having an opportunity to consider the writing of many poets, I appreciate all the work involved in creating a journal. It’s been a privilege to be a part of the SHARK REEF team. Richard and I were happy when we agreed on our choices, and we enjoyed discussing many of the poems. It was reassuring to know that Lorna was always there behind the scenes to fix glitches and help as needed.

Aaisha Umt Ur Rashid, non-fiction editor
My time with the exceptional team at SHARK REEF was incredibly rewarding. Each member provided invaluable support, especially when I faced challenges with the selection process for non-fiction pieces. I did not anticipate the profound and enduring literary connections I would form with them. Over the next two years, this initially distant relationship became integral to my life. While I am saddened by the end of this journey, I am equally enthusiastic about the future and confident we will stay connected through The Bridge, my creative writing venture designed to link writers and scholars globally.

Iris Graville, publisher
Working with SHARK REEF has paralleled a great deal of my writing life and has greatly enriched it. From its beginnings by a small group of dedicated writers (led by Lorna Reese), it’s been a source of support for both emerging and experienced writers as well as an inspiring publication of words and visual art. I’m honored to have promoted it and been a listening ear as it’s evolved, and I celebrate its contribution to the literary world.

Shari Lane, managing editor
As a writer, I know the depths of despair that rejection can cause, and I know the boundless giddiness that comes with acceptance (usually followed by an almost-unshakable conviction that there’s been a mistake, it wasn’t my story/poem/book the editors meant to accept, and the “oops” is pending). As a soon-to-be-former managing editor of SHARK REEF Literary Magazine, my personal experiences have informed the process of reviewing contributors’ work. I understand on a visceral level that I’m cradling the tender newborn words of each hopeful submitter. Great care is needed. That seems to me to be a general truism, as well; if we all treated each other with the same gentleness we hope our words will receive, writing in particular, and communication in general, would be a much more joyful endeavor. It has been an honor to be a part of that work.

Lorna Reese, editor emerita
As for me, not surprisingly, I feel both sad and relieved. There’s so much more I could add, but I’ve been going on for a while and it’s time for lunch. Let me just say that my time and experiences with SHARK REEF have truly been an honor and a privilege. All that’s really left to say is thank you all!

And farewell.

Copyright 2024 Reese