Letter from the Managing Editor

Dear Reader, 

For as long as I can remember, I have loved telling stories. I was a super shy kid, so of course I never told them out loud but rather on paper. My first ones are scribbled down somewhere in a purple college-ruled notebook, and my latest one sits between the pages of Issue 2 of The Wake.

Every writer is known to be hyper-critical of their work. Within each of us lies the desire to be lauded for our writing, conflicting only with fear of it being seen. Before I began writing for The Wake, I could not fathom of my writing ever seeing the light of day. I wrote almost compulsively, and while I considered myself by default to be a writer, I did not deem the things I wrote to be “good enough” for others to read. And so I kept it in the dark, writing but never submitting any of it, telling stories but only to myself. That is, until January of this year.

Pressured by my roommate, I applied for the intern position to write for the Features section of The Wake. Features is the largest section in the magazine and serves to analyze and comment on recent and important issues concerning politics, human rights, and much more. In my (humble) opinion, it is the most important section in our magazine.

When it came time for me to write my feature for Issue 9–my chosen pitch about the harmful effects of ableist language in our everyday vernacular–reality set in: my editor would not be the only one to lay eyes on my writing. In a state of what I can only describe as panic, I ran to the archives of previous issues to see how the writers of Features past had written theirs. In short, I was looking for a “correct” way to tell my story. And yet, four weeks and two (frantically met) deadlines later, there it was, in print and out in the open for the first time–my story.

Although the issues that Features writers comment on are not “stories” in the sense that they are very real and in no way fictional, I refer to them as such because they are told with the personal influence and perspective of their authors. In that way, they emulate not only the issues of their time but their writer’s own connection to them. 

This semester, I was appointed as managing editor of The Wake and, not unlike my 2022 spring semester-self, initially reacted with feelings of both excitement and horror. Now, a mere two months later, I am thrilled to report that those feelings now involve mostly excitement and only some horror (ask me again at 1 a.m. on final draft day). 

The Wake has been paramount in helping me not only find my voice but be proud of it–out loud and in a really cool font. What I wish for everyone who chooses to read our magazine is that they be inspired by the voices that constitute it. And beyond inspiration, to know that there is only one “right” way to tell your story: write it down and send it out. 

Much love,

Sophia Goetz
Managing Editor