Driftwood Press – Spring 2006

Judging by its title, which, next to the cover, is the greatest way to judge anything, I expected Driftwood to be a ragtag collection of literature in translation and experimental writing from the English writing world. Instead, Driftwood offers seven short stories featuring the sort of exoticism that has populated mainstream bookshelves for years, which, in effect, dilutes the very exoticism they originally brought to light. Once I got over my own preconceptions, I saw Driftwood for what it is—a fine literary magazine that caters to these types of stories.

Judging by its title, which, next to the cover, is the greatest way to judge anything, I expected Driftwood to be a ragtag collection of literature in translation and experimental writing from the English writing world. Instead, Driftwood offers seven short stories featuring the sort of exoticism that has populated mainstream bookshelves for years, which, in effect, dilutes the very exoticism they originally brought to light. Once I got over my own preconceptions, I saw Driftwood for what it is—a fine literary magazine that caters to these types of stories. It seems to me as though there are two central tenets in such writing: one, telling a story as foreign to readers as possible, and two, trying to match the writing to the locale in both voice and structure. It’s when those are the least of a story’s attributes that Driftwood shines. Karen Masuda’s “Fast Train Slow Train” tells the story of a nearly friendless young boy who “walked slowly as was his habit talking to things like rocks and dead leaves along the way.” It’s impossible not to be aware of Driftwood’s ‘mission statement’ for lack of a better term, but somewhere around turning from the first page to the second of “Fast Train Slow Train,” I could have been reading a great story in any magazine. The best stories in Driftwood (Wanda Campbell’s “Quick Silver” is another highlight) made me forget everything but the words I was reading, only to reflect upon this “voice from afar” once I’d finished.
[www.driftwoodpress.com]