March 5, 2010
Dear Isotope Patrons,
It is with a strange mixture of regret and relief that I announce the end of Isotope: A Journal of Literary Nature and Science Writing. Over the years, this magazine has garnered wide national attention for its excellent work—from mentions and reprints in Best of anthologies to two N.E.A. grants, from excerpts aired on national radio programs to getting singled out as a “hot” place to publish in Poets & Writers.
The attention this has brought to the work itself has been most gratifying. Our authors and artists have produced some of the most daring, inventive and incisive work in the culture today. Isotope has been a kind of Venn diagram for “nature, culture, science and muse.” Our readers have let us know what they like—and what they don’t. In an era of declining circulation for literary magazines, our subscription base grew strongly and has stayed at levels many lit mags would envy. And the magazine’s staff has been a joy to work with—in particular, former Managing Editor Leslie Brown, who steadfastly guided magazine operations from 2003 to 2009. Former graphic designer Kathe Lison made each issue look beautiful and eye-catching till 2008. Leslie stepped in and carried on the striking visual tradition that Kathe established. Our genre editors Michael Sowder, John Engler and Charles Waugh provided me with invaluable assistance as we waded through thousands of submissions; our volunteer readers over the years did the same. Isotope’s string of fine graduate students comes to an end with Samuel Howard, who, after Leslie lost her position due to budget cuts, stepped in to help get our final issue ready for production. Our undergraduate students deserve thanks too, especially for taking care of the website. A handful of donors, especially of late, deserve gratitude for trying to keep the magazine afloat at a time when institutional support has vanished; to them, our sincere thanks. Finally, to a number of administrators and staff at Utah State University who steadfastly backed the magazine over the years, our thanks as well: Jeff Smitten, Jeannie Thomas, the late Gary Kiger, Don Fiesinger, Mary Hubbard, Elaine Thatcher and Nat Frazer. The English Department’s Annie Nielson has gone above and beyond in helping Isotope keep track of its budget and use its resources wisely. Dean Yolanda Flores Niemann offered guidance and encouragement as we sought other venues in which to publish the magazine.
But budget cuts at Utah State University have meant the loss of the managing editor position and the funding used to design, print and distribute the magazine. Grant support has not been readily forthcoming, thus crippling our ability to promote the magazine and to pay our contributors.
Without such a funding-and-staffing infrastructure in place, I cannot in good conscience continue to strive for donations and I cannot publish the magazine to the level of excellence it has achieved. Faculty here at USU, including the magazine’s genre editors, recently offered to collaborate in leading an online version of Isotope. While deeply appreciative of their kindness, I have reluctantly concluded that I do not wish to edit an online version of Isotope nor to impinge on the already scant time our faculty have during this era of looming course load increases and already overly large classes. I hope that as things stabilize, perhaps the faculty and students here at USU might launch a new magazine.
Till then, readers of Isotope are lucky that several fine environmental literary publications are still appearing around the country: Orion, Ecotone, Terrain, Flyway and Hawk and Handsaw, to name a few.
It is very strange to be writing this letter. I came to Utah State University in 2002 and one of the attractions was to edit a magazine of nature writing. Isotope was launched, and we’ve compiled an enviable set of issues. Working with the magazine—or, as I often joked, working for my managing editor, Leslie Brown—has been a source of deep pleasure. Leslie was a joy to work with. Our staff, editors and students, the same. I also took deep satisfaction from working with authors—especially scientists—over multiple drafts, then seeing that piece make print. I relished that Isotope was a home for scientists writing poetry, stories and personal essays, as well as making visual art. I strongly believe that such work is critical for our culture. It is needed. Thus, the regret I mentioned at the beginning of this letter. I regret Isotope will close.
As to my relief, I suppose that’s a matter in large measure of finding certainty after a year of swirling changes, indecision (much of that mine) and shifting budget priorities. Though I—and we—will regret the cessation of Isotope after its seven-year run, I am relieved that the situation has clarified and that the magazine won’t limp along without the support it deserves.
Better to go out on top, as they say.
I hope that you enjoy this final issue [7.2] of Isotope: A Journal of Literary Nature and Science Writing and I thank you again for caring so deeply about this unique magazine.
-Christopher Cokinos
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Since its debut in 2003, Isotope: A Journal of Literary Nature and Science Writing has sought an expansive vision of explorations of nature and science. Too often, it seems that nature writing is viewed through a narrow lens—either celebration or elegy. And that wild places—an increasingly problematic category—are the most sought-after venues for revealing explorations of the human relationship to the nonhuman world.
We don’t dispute the need to venerate such locales or the need to celebrate and to grieve. It’s worth noting that within the word “isotope” the Greek root “topos” occurs…a reminder of the importance of place.
Isotope honors the tradition of nature writing—while moving beyond it (even challenging it) with a wide range of work that engages such fields as astronomy, artificial intelligence, genetic engineering, sexuality, urban ecosystems, restoration ecology, physics and math.
We are a journal of literary nature and science writing. We are a journal of compelling artwork, poems, lyric and narrative essays, microfiction, short stories and regular features such as, “Soliloquy,” in which we invite a writer or artist to respond to a specific question; “Voice,” in which we feature a long piece or several works by a single writer; and “Portfolio,” in which we display the work of a coherent group of artists or several pieces by a single creator.
Isotope has received national recognition in such venues as Poets & Writers, Utne.com, Best American Science and Nature Writing and Martha Stewart Living Radio’s “The Naturalist’s Datebook.” The acclaim proves that each issue of Isotope offers a much-needed prism through which we can come to a more nuanced understanding of “nature, culture, science, muse,” the four small words printed at the bottom of every cover, words that remind
our readers of the vision to which the magazine is dedicated.
Isotope is supported in part by the following: Department of English at Utah State University :: Caine School of the Arts, USU :: College of Humanities, Arts ad Social Sciences, USU :: College of Science, USU :: College of Natural Resources, USU :: Marie Eccles Caine Foundation :: Mountain West Center for Regional Studies :: This project is also supported by a grant from the Utah Arts Council, with funding from the State of Utah and the National Endowment for the Arts, Washington, D.C., which believes that a great nation deserves great art.