Periodically, so to speak, I inspect my favorite writing mag, Poets & Writers, for contests, circling those that seem like a fit, which means I’m actually holding the publication in my hands along with that most old-fashioned of writing implements, a pencil, the technology that allowed Thoreau to draw even a modest income (trivia for those interested in Transcendentalists: his family manufactured pencils).
So it was that I discovered Rick Rofihe and his RRofihe Trophy fiction contest which, need I mention, I did not win, but which served the purpose of bringing Rick to my attention. So when his name came up on Facebook, I friended him (Web 2.0-alert: in case you think otherwise, it's still not a verb to many) and discovered that Rick has launched Anderbo, an online literary journal. (What’s an Anderbo? It’s a Rick Rofihe literary journal.)
Rick’s story is an inspiration, writer-friends. He is completely uncertified, unlicensed, non-degreed, and, yet, he eventually, after years at his typewriter – even though he can’t type - has had nine stories in The New Yorker. Now he’s doing the choosing, running contests, and publishing very good stuff. I love his story, “Me. You. Love.” Enjoy.