Meet Our New Intern: Caitlin Mulqueen

In a speech I was forced to give at the end of my senior year of high school, I spoke about books and the way that the stories I read growing up showed me how to be. To articulate my point, I used a quote from a young adult novel in which the plot centered around demon-hunting teenagers tasked with saving the world. The crowd did not need to know that fact. What they instead knew was that the book that I was quoting was entirely correct, irrespective of the absurdity of its plotline. The quote being, “One must always be careful of books and what is inside of them, for words have the power to change us.”

Now, as a senior in college, those words remain as true as they were back then. Reading gave me perspective, an imagination, aspirations, and a world beyond the comfort of my hometown. I could sit on a bench in my neighborhood and read about examples of bravery, war, love, betrayal, and triumph—and I did, because these things were not happening in Bradenton, Florida. Trust me, I looked. 

I scoured swampy tree lines for vampires, werewolves, and any other supernatural being that might present itself. I opened many doors searching for Narnia, stared at the base of tree trunks wishing for rabbit holes to appear, directing me towards Wonderland. I waited for the letter summoning me to Hogwarts. Instead, I found retention ponds, alligators, and summer afternoons that were averagely above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. After doing my audit on the extraordinary, I came to the conclusion that magic, if it did exist, was not willing to present itself to me unless it were in the form of a couple hundred pages at a time. A childhood that was wondrous in its own right was made magical through literature. I was never “The Chosen One,” but I sure loved reading about them.

I am often thankful that the illustrated version of Alice In Wonderland was available in my elementary school library, because I was able to read the words “Sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast,” setting a standard for imagination.

My love for stories and storytelling have brought me everywhere I’ve dreamed. Most unexpectedly, I realized that sports offer some of the greatest stories of the real world—triumph, tragedy, unimaginable loss, and unbelievable comeback. 

For me, literature transcends the boundaries of reality, transforming ordinary moments into extraordinary tales. When it rains and thunders, I cannot help but joke to my friends that this is the sort of weather that vampires prefer for a baseball game—a joke about the iconic scene from Twilight.

In a book, words can create a world, a person, a feeling. If that is not magic, then I am unsure what could ever constitute. And so, how could one not want to work with literature and stories? I am thrilled to be starting this internship with Sundress Publications as I enter my final semester of college. It is a pleasure to delve deeper into the enchanting worlds of literature and in this final chapter of my academic journey, I am eager to contribute to the literary industry where each story holds the power to change us. 


Caitlin Mulqueen is a senior at the University of Tennessee majoring in English and Journalism. She loves reading, playing piano, watching sports, and the Oxford comma. She has worked as an Editorial Graphics Production intern at ESPN, is a copy editor at The Daily Beacon, a student writer for Tennessee Athletics, a graphics and video operator for the SEC Network, and a marketing/social media intern for the Knoxville Ice Bears. With the majority of her undergraduate work being in sports media, literary media has remained her sincerest passion, finding stories that come out of sports to be as moving as those from literature.

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: The Commonplace Misfortunes of Everyday Plants by Renee Emerson


This selection, chosen by guest editor Kenli Doss, is from The Commonplace Misfortunes of Everyday Plans by Renee Emerson (Belle Point Press 2023).

Grapefruit Tree in Cubicle

You dug the seed, white as a tooth,
from the sour flesh and juice
of a half-grapefruit sugared
and eaten on break. Pushed it deep
with your thumb in the scoop of dirt
you stole in a Styrofoam cup
from the neglected corner office fern.

Takes some careful attention
to coax the green shoot to grow
tall as your child in the near-sunless
technology-gray cubicle
where you spent day after day
thinking up what metal and plastic
can take the place of the parts of knees
worn thin from sixty years of hard use.

When Smith and Nephew laid you off,
some decades later, you’d always say
it was the best thing you did there.

Renee Emerson is the author of the poetry collections Keeping Me Still (Winter Goose Publishing 2014), Threshing Floor (Jacar Press 2016), and Church Ladies (Fernwood Press 2022). She is also the author of the middle grade novel Why Silas Miller Must Learn to Ride a Bike (Wintergoose Publishing 2022). She lives in the Midwest with her husband and children.


Kenli Doss holds a BA in English and a BA in Theatre-Performance from Jacksonville State University. She is a freelance writer and actress based out of Alabama, and she spends her free time painting scenes from nature or writing poetry for her mom. Ken’s works appear in Something Else (a JSU literary arts journal), Bonemilk II by Gutslut Press, Snowflake Magazine, The Shakespeare Project’s Romeo and Juliet Study Guide and A Midsummer Night’s Dream Study Guide, and The White Cresset Arts Journal.

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Hush by Nikki Ummel


This selection, chosen by guest editor Kenli Doss, is from Hush by Nikki Ummel (Belle Point Press 2023).

And He Takes and He Takes and He Takes

I. 	Tess marks time with her daughter’s body:
bones grow in cadence to the hourglass
slip of sand grains

after an overcast beach day
Tess rinses soap suds and
Sarasota sugar sand
from her daughter’s skin

Elah: the valley where David slay Goliath הלאה קמע Emek HaElah
named for overcoming for the slaughter of giants

Elah’s hair tickles kneecaps
swishes like a skirt

Tess braids her daughter’s hair every morning
lays hands on every inch
of coarse curl then ropes
the thick braid around her daughter’s waist

she tethers Elah to her five-year-old body

as old as Tess’ father is dead

as he withered & scabbed
on a worn futon cushion

Elah grew strong in the womb

Tess prayed for the strength
to raise her ןֶבֶ֙א eben stone of help
take aim at her תָיְלָּג
Golyath


II. She bore Elah in mourning in a black maternity dress
finger-painted her daughter with afterbirth
forced her to bear witness as תָיְלָּג Golyath the revealer
giant who uncovers

lingered in the corner

Grief stitched itself
into pituitary
coaxed forth
a manic rush of HGH

Elah is large for her age the x-ray
reveals a skeleton two years too old

םֶצֶע etsem bones/substance/self
too big for her body

Elah is five her skeleton is seven a cage fit to burst
her ribs bars of iron her bones of bronze

Tess stuffs her own mouth with fig leaves
until she chokes on ךֶּֽתְראְַפִּת: tipharah Glory Be

Glory Be Glory Be

Nikki Ummel is a queer artist and has been published by Gulf Coast, The Georgia Review, Black Lawrence Press, and others. She is the 2022 recipient of the Leslie McGrath Poetry Prize and 2023 recipient of the Juxtaprose Poetry Award for her manuscript, Bloom. Nikki is the co-founder of LMNL, an arts organization focused on readings, workshops, and residencies. She has two poetry chapbooks, Hush (Belle Point Press, 2022) and Bayou Sonata (NOLA DNA, 2023), funded by the New Orleans’ Jazz and Heritage Foundation.


Kenli Doss holds a BA in English and a BA in Theatre-Performance from Jacksonville State University. She is a freelance writer and actress based out of Alabama, and she spends her free time painting scenes from nature or writing poetry for her mom. Ken’s works appear in Something Else (a JSU literary arts journal), Bonemilk II by Gutslut Press, Snowflake Magazine, The Shakespeare Project’s Romeo and Juliet Study Guide and A Midsummer Night’s Dream Study Guide, and The White Cresset Arts Journal.

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Hush by Nikki Ummel


This selection, chosen by guest editor Kenli Doss, is from Hush by Nikki Ummel (Belle Point Press 2023).

Altar

We make ourselves anew:
wash each other's bodies
in frankincense and myrrh,
adorn each other's arms
in bracelets of gold.

We are both mortar and pestle.
We grind our bones down
for creation, bury our dust deep,
seeds we water with mouths

of yes. We breathe
deep, roots we grow
with lips
of oh.

We spread palms across
the floor & prepare
to embrace the gods
who, when called,
come.

Nikki Ummel is a queer writer, editor, and educator in New Orleans. Nikki’s work has been published or is forthcoming in Painted Bride Quarterly, The Adroit Journal, The Georgia Review, and more. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best New Poets, and twice awarded an Academy of American Poets Award. She is the 2022 winner of the Leslie McGrath Poetry Prize. You can find her wandering around Holy Cross with her beautiful dog and equally beautiful partner.


Kenli Doss holds a BA in English and a BA in Theatre-Performance from Jacksonville State University. She is a freelance writer and actress based out of Alabama, and she spends her free time painting scenes from nature or writing poetry for her mom. Ken’s works appear in Something Else (a JSU literary arts journal), Bonemilk II by Gutslut Press, Snowflake Magazine, The Shakespeare Project’s Romeo and Juliet Study Guide and A Midsummer Night’s Dream Study Guide, and The White Cresset Arts Journal.

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Hush by Nikki Ummel


This selection, chosen by guest editor Kenli Doss, is from Hush by Nikki Ummel (Belle Point Press 2023).

After the Flood

We took with us
things immediate:
dog leash by the door,
overripe bananas,
fresh underwear folded
in the basket by the stairs.
it was not enough. We
wrung our hands nightly,
hundreds of miles away.
Word of mouth birthed
new rivers within us.

All washed clean. We wait
for the river water to stop
being greedy. Lifetimes.
What will they say, our
descendants, when our home
reemerges, when the water
recedes, of our chipped
pho bowls, the blown glass
bong? Will they know the love
we shared? Our record player,
clammed shut. Still spinning
Fats Domino.

Nikki Ummel is a queer writer, editor, and educator in New Orleans. Nikki’s work has been published or is forthcoming in Painted Bride Quarterly, The Adroit Journal, The Georgia Review, and more. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best New Poets, and twice awarded an Academy of American Poets Award. She is the 2022 winner of the Leslie McGrath Poetry Prize. You can find her wandering around Holy Cross with her beautiful dog and equally beautiful partner.


Kenli Doss holds a BA in English and a BA in Theatre-Performance from Jacksonville State University. She is a freelance writer and actress based out of Alabama, and she spends her free time painting scenes from nature or writing poetry for her mom. Ken’s works appear in Something Else (a JSU literary arts journal), Bonemilk II by Gutslut Press, Snowflake Magazine, The Shakespeare Project’s Romeo and Juliet Study Guide and A Midsummer Night’s Dream Study Guide, and The White Cresset Arts Journal.

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Hush by Nikki Ummel


This selection, chosen by guest editor Kenli Doss, is from Hush by Nikki Ummel (Belle Point Press 2023).

Self-Portrait as Godmother

As the moon rises, I lift him from the crib, his
fingers curling around my hair, pulled
by the whims

of his dreams.
My feet in soft shag, he swathes
my swaying hips,
lays his head on my chest.
Humming Moonlight Sonata,
I press my lips to his cradle cap. The moon

is high as I
(knowing soon
he will rise, seek my side)
lay him down again.

I sweep hair from his eyes, nibble
the tip of his ear, and revel in
his smile, projected from his nighttime palace.

Door cracked, I hear him find the crib’s edge,
pull himself to stand
before his cry breaks midnight hush.
My personal call to prayer. We repeat:
sleeping child, sleepless caregiver,
midnight snack maker, monster under the bed
slayer. Permanently stained purveyor
of wooden blocks and perpetual peeker
of those hidden boos.


I lift him from the crib.
The moon sets.

Nikki Ummel is a queer writer, editor, and educator in New Orleans. Nikki’s work has been published or is forthcoming in Painted Bride Quarterly, The Adroit Journal, The Georgia Review, and more. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best New Poets, and twice awarded an Academy of American Poets Award. She is the 2022 winner of the Leslie McGrath Poetry Prize. You can find her wandering around Holy Cross with her beautiful dog and equally beautiful partner.


Kenli Doss holds a BA in English and a BA in Theatre-Performance from Jacksonville State University. She is a freelance writer and actress based out of Alabama, and she spends her free time painting scenes from nature or writing poetry for her mom. Ken’s works appear in Something Else (a JSU literary arts journal), Bonemilk II by Gutslut Press, Snowflake Magazine, The Shakespeare Project’s Romeo and Juliet Study Guide and A Midsummer Night’s Dream Study Guide, and The White Cresset Arts Journal.

Sundress Reads: Review of A Book About Myself Called Hell

A personal growth narrative applies twofold to Jared Joseph’s A Book About Myself Called Hell (KERNPUNKT Press, 2022). In the book, which reads almost like a travel diary, Joseph documents his reading process of Dante’s Inferno, an epic poem in which Dante journeys through Hell as a living being. The parallel narratives for Dante and Joseph reveal the nested nature of the book’s themes, mirroring and re-forming like the concentric circles of Hell. 

A Book About Myself Called Hell is a truly impressive work of critiquing and weaving, of joking and wondering, and it is funny. Joseph does it all intentionally, with nary a misplaced comma, and by the end I felt devastatingly seen and understood. The book is precisely human. I recognized my soul’s questions mirrored in the confusion and absurdity of both Joseph’s and Dante’s wanderings. The sentiment is captured perfectly in Job 9:12, which is featured in the book as an epigraph: “Who can say to Him, what are you doing?”. Who is running this life of ours? How can we ask what on earth is going on? 

Joseph’s book unfolds in three sections. First, there is a brief introduction to Inferno and why Joseph is reading. The middle is made up of critical commentaries for each canto. Finally, Joseph puts together a multiple-choice section with upside-down answers, reading like a Choose Your Own Adventure novel. This last part enhances the book’s conversational nature; Joseph is telling the readers a story and interjecting with context and anecdotes, to which we respond, but all we say in the end is why is Hell so funny and why can’t we laugh?  

The book is adventurous and searching, perhaps because it is somehow a compilation of asked, unanswered, and re-asked questions, occasionally specific but often metaphysical in nature. This essence is what made me feel understood and impressed at the same time: somehow, through a lot of swearing and crude analogies, Joseph pares away the bullshit and gets at some philosophical truth. The absurd humor of the book hinges on a tension between the ancient and the modern, and Joseph bridges the gap through continuous questions and eventual answers. He accurately dissects the structure of Inferno, referencing Dante’s life and numerological affiliations (Beatrice, basically), and analyzing the terza rima rhyme structure that reinforces the structure of the narrative. As well as this technical efficiency, Joseph demonstrates an intimate understanding of the soul struggle which pierces Inferno and carries into his own book: how can we make sense of this strange, contradictory existence that is human? Many little inversions reinforce the idea of heaven being hell, hell being life, and the journey out of hell being downwards to get back up, such as “they [finally] get to wet ground” (Joseph 25). Hell becomes a home for all the comically absurd, and the comically absurd include a lot of questions. 

Some of the genius of the work is that, in almost every canto’s commentary, a reference offered earlier is revisited in some sensible, conclusive way, such that everything feels very satisfying. Joseph brings us into his thoughts as he reads Inferno, reminding us that he is laughing with us at all the absurdity, and tying things back together when the questions start to get too big. I invite readers who have not read Inferno, either recently or at all, into Joseph’s narrative for the eccentric father-son relationship of Dante and Virgil, and for the hilarity. 

For those with an interest in Dante, Classics, humor, or the existential, this will prove an absolutely worthwhile read. Joseph demonstrates understanding of historical context, accurately touching on Florentine political conflicts and the tension between antiquity and Christian orthodoxy in the Italian Renaissance era. The whole project is kind of lovely because today’s angst at Covid-19, climate change, and the death of God is comparable somehow with that of the dreamy intellectual of the Middle Ages, stuck between pagan antiquity’s distant paradise and the reality of Christendom and plague. Either this was already apparent to Joseph, or he picked a really good quarantine read. In either case, A Book About Myself Called Hell makes sense. It is roaringly funny and intimately beautiful.  

Jared Joseph’s A Book About Myself Called Hell is available from KERNPUNKT Press


A young white woman with dark blonde curly hair that reaches her shoulders. She wears a tee shirt and the sun is shining on her face. She looks pensive and she wears yellow cat earrings.

Isabelle Whittall is pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in combined Philosophy and Political Science at the University of British Columbia (UBC). She co-hosts the radio show Hail! Discordia! on CITR 101.9fm, and is an Editorial Board Member of UBC’s Journal of Philosophical Enquiries.  

Project Bookshelf: Hiba Syed

A close up of a single shelf of a black wooden book rack. There are enough books to cover the entire shelf and leave no space. A crocheted teal squid sits on top of some of the books towards the right.

My criteria for buy-worthy books has changed a lot over the years. Spending money on books I didn’t already know I liked used to feel wasteful, especially with my limited bookshelf space. I have a pretty large collection now, but I consider all additions carefully. Deciding which works I find memorable enough to want to have on hand is an investment to me. Not every book on my shelves is necessarily a favorite, but if I have it, it’s probably for the creativity of its contents and the context it was published in.

Mainly, unless I wish to support a living author and buy directly from a mainstream bookstore, I rely on thrifting, secondhand websites, book fairs, etc. to slowly build my collection. I make it a point to buy obscure works that are relevant to my interests as soon as I have the chance to ensure I’ll eventually be able to read them. After a lifetime of immersion in the classics of America and England, and growing boredom with the oversaturation of specific narratives for POC in English fiction, I’ve made it my mission to explore translated literature, especially from South Asia and MENA countries.

The ongoing incompleteness of this collection is what I love most about it. I am not one to despair over the impossibility of reading every book in the world. I enjoy always having something more to discover. I’m saving yet-to-be-read titles pictured above like The Mirror of My Heart, The Water Urn, and Satyajit Ray’s Detective Feluda stories for rainy days, to read when I have more time, and relish the anticipation that comes with their presence on my shelf. Similarly, I have a list of books that I would ideally already own, but know will be worth the wait to acquire when I finally locate them, like The Oxford Book of Urdu Short Stories and Umrao Jan Ada.

I also treasure older favorites, like Elantris, Phantom, and The Inheritance Cycle (not pictured) from when I used to mostly read fantasy and retellings, and still had the stamina for long sagas. My poetry collections and nonfiction are the works I like to take the most time with to ensure I absorb them, hence the bookmarks. If I had to choose any three titles from this particular shelf as my favorites, they would be Sonora Jha’s The Laughter, Anita Brookner’s Hotel du Lac, and Louise Glück’s Averno.


Hiba Syed is a Pakistani-American writer and reviewer with an appreciation for all genres. Having recently graduated with a BA in English, she fills her time traveling, experimenting in the kitchen, and reading anything she can get her hands on. Currently she resides in St. Louis, Missouri. 

Meet Our New Intern: Addie Dodge

A white woman with short blonde hair is standing in front of a brick wall looking at the camera.

I have always loved stories. As a child, weekends were spent at the library amassing impossibly large stacks of books. I had a tendency for sneaking off from the children’s section to the literature aisles, tucking works like Frankenstein and To Kill a Mockingbird into the middle of my pile to try to make my selections a little less suspicious. Usually, I got away with it. 

My love for reading translated into a love for writing as well. Poetry came first, as I attended readings and workshops throughout high school, and longer-form fiction followed, leading me to where I am now, finishing the final edits of my first novel manuscript while also getting ready to begin work on a second project.

I entered college fully intent on pursuing a major in creative writing. A voracious reader and writer, I began my coursework with a great deal of excitement and urgency to learn. However, I found myself questioning if this was the right path for me as I also began taking classes in psychology and falling in love with the field. At the same time, I was hired as an editor for my college’s literary magazine, Cipher, and was finding great purpose and passion in working with writers and other editors to bring pieces to full realization. I was excited about and impassioned by my work as an editor, while also wrestling with the question of whether I was going to continue pursuing writing or delve further into psychology. Now, in my senior year of college, I’ve decided to do both. 

For me, working as an editor is a direct extension of my writing practice. This work has given me the space to consider writing from a different angle, and to work with other writers in a holistic and generative process, something I am excited to continue in my work with Sundress Publications

While it may seem like a strange combination, working as a clinical intern at a domestic violence shelter while also pursuing editorial work, I believe that my work in the field of psychology is a different translation of what I do as an editor and writer. As I move further along the path to becoming a therapist, it’s clear to me that much of this clinical work is listening to and assisting in realizing individuals’ stories in order to help them process what has happened to them. 

On the other side of that coin, I see my work in editing as another way of bringing stories to the surface through supporting writers in the development and propulsion of their stories. I deeply believe in the inherent healing that is available in telling stories, and in those stories being heard and understood. As such, I believe that the development and distribution of published works is crucial to our societal well-being. It is a great privilege for me to work with people and their stories in these two separate, but inextricable modalities. 


Addie Dodge is a student at Colorado College pursuing a BA in Psychology with a Minor in English. She is a writer currently working as an editor for her college’s literary magazine, Cipher, and is also a clinical intern at a domestic violence shelter in Colorado. She fills her free time with hiking in the mountains and lots of reading. 

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Hush by Nikki Ummel


This selection, chosen by guest editor Kenli Doss, is from Hush by Nikki Ummel (Belle Point Press 2023).

Fantasy of Walking My Niece Home

We veer off the path,
head for the trees,
knee-deep in pine straw.

My niece launches herself
from the Radio Flyer,
her feet crunching in pine needles.

She sinks her hands into sharp pine cones.
They become missiles,
bomb the thick straw for enemy ships.

Look! I cry,
pointing to the looming trees: the pine cones
have come so far.


She jumps, flaps her hands open and closed.
We have to put them back,
she says. Their mommy will miss them.

Clutching pine cones in her too-small palms,
she hugs them to her body:
A child, far from home. Mother, unreachable.

Sharp distance. My sister,
sheathed in stiff sheets & soft lights,
pink nails painted by kind hospice nurses.

She is two. The world is still kind.

I tell her, some things can’t
come home.


She takes a pine cone, shoves it
in my pocket, deep.

She says,
We will make a home for them.

Nikki Ummel is a queer writer, editor, and educator in New Orleans. Nikki’s work has been published or is forthcoming in Painted Bride Quarterly, The Adroit Journal, The Georgia Review, and more. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best New Poets, and twice awarded an Academy of American Poets Award. She is the 2022 winner of the Leslie McGrath Poetry Prize. You can find her wandering around Holy Cross with her beautiful dog and equally beautiful partner.


Kenli Doss holds a BA in English and a BA in Theatre-Performance from Jacksonville State University. She is a freelance writer and actress based out of Alabama, and she spends her free time painting scenes from nature or writing poetry for her mom. Ken’s works appear in Something Else (a JSU literary arts journal), Bonemilk II by Gutslut Press, Snowflake Magazine, The Shakespeare Project’s Romeo and Juliet Study Guide and A Midsummer Night’s Dream Study Guide, and The White Cresset Arts Journal.