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In this special joint feature, literary powerhouses and best friends Lynne Thompson and Patricia Smith talk about sisterhood. Lynne Thompson served as Los Angeles’ 4th Poet Laureate and is the author of four collections of poetry: Beg No Pardon; Start With A Small Guitar; Fretwork; and, Blue on a Blue Palette. A lawyer by training, Thompson serves on the Boards of The Poetry Foundation, Los Angeles Review of Books, her alma mater, Scripps College, and is the current President of Cave Canem. In addition to featuring for Torch Magazine, Thompson’s work appears or is forthcoming in Best American Poetry, Kenyon Review, The Common, Tiferet, and the Georgia Review. Her website is www.lynnethompson.us. Patricia Smith is the author of ten books of poetry, including The Intentions of Thunder: New and Selected Poems (Scribner 2025), winner of the 2025 National Book Award for Poetry, finalist for the 2026 Pulitzer Prize, and winner of the 2026 NAACP Image Award for Poetry; Unshuttered; Incendiary Art, winner of the 2018 Kingsley Tufts Poetry Award, the 2017 Los Angeles Times Book Prize and the 2018 NAACP Image Award, and finalist for the2018 Pulitzer Prize; Shoulda Been Jimi Savannah, winner of the Lenore Marshall Prize from the Academy of American Poets; Blood Dazzler, a National Book Award finalist; and Gotta Go, Gotta Flow, a collaboration with award-winning Chicago photographer Michael Abramson. Her other books include the poetry volumes Teahouse of the Almighty, Close to Death, Big Towns Big Talk, Life According to Motown; the children's book Janna and the Kings and the history Africans in America, a companion book to the award-winning PBS series. The Flower & The Navel-Gazer by Lynne Thompson After a clink of champagne flutes filled with the eponymous liquor laced with creme de violette, one poet introduces herself as Anemone, says—coyly— to be specific, I am Anemone Thomsonii, come from Mt. Kilimanjaro, East Africa, daughter of the wind, tears of Aphrodite following Adonis’ death. Her fellow scribe, her lips moist with the sparkle and tickle, replies they call me Omphaloskepsis, Navel-gazer. Look to the monks of Mount Anthos or those who practice kundalini yoga—they will instruct you to find the soft center of your heart where your bountiful powers reside, the place you will find unending joy. And in this way, they spoke into that first evening’s hollow and until their souls— flower and navel-gazer—found their own harmony; became musky essence and light-gathering seer. A Talented Felon, Branzino and the Green Dress by Patricia Smith Who knew that there was joy in just comparing liver spots, reluctant squeaks the body makes, or warbling ancient tunes that everyone’s forgotten? Girl, who knew that poetry would hold us close this long, through deaths of mothers, menopause, the loss of men we swore we’d kill for once upon a time? Who knew we’d wind up here, content to write our long and jumbled lives in rhyme, to throw our heads way back and laugh at just how silly it’s all been, and look— the world is perfect from this perch, where we’ve seen everything and nothing, where we’ll die content in sisterhood. We lived so loud. THE INTERVIEW This interview was conducted separately between Lynne Thompson, Patricia Smith, and Jae Nichelle on April 17 and June 25th, 2026. What a joy to have you both in conversation here! I’d love to take it back to the start. From both of your perspectives, how did your friendship begin? When did you know it was going to be a key relationship in your life? LT: Although we had met sometime before, I think it was about 2011 or 2012 when Patricia was in Los Angeles and desperate for a friendly face that she called me to “rescue” her. I went to meet her in Santa Monica and we lingered over a great champagne brunch (one of our favorite things to share) for several hours talking about everything from family to what we were writing before she had to catch a plane…and the rest?…you know….. PS: I think we were aware of each other on the margins—I realize now that Lynne was breaking her way into the poetry community and wasn’t yet her currently feisty self. But she was the only person I knew who lives in the glitzy wilds of Los Angeles, and when I got stuck here—in some insane mansion in the Hollywood Hills where there were live fish in the chandelier—I sent out an SOS for rescue. She declined my late-night plea, but later we couldn’t stop laughing. I’d found a soulmate. Older women (I don’t like that phrase)—let’s call us “queens”—have a very particular sense of humor, a shared love of real music, a bemused outlook on “the same old thing,” and the toughness that only experience can bring. I’ve been lucky to find a gal to grow up with. We’ve transcended words—a look, or a quick gesture, can say everything. I enjoyed listening to a conversation you both had with The Hive Poetry Collective, where Patricia says, “I might feel differently about my career right now if it wasn’t for Lynne. I think I’d feel more isolated.” What has your friendship taught you about being a writer? LT: Having a “bestie” who is also a writer, particularly a poet, and most particularly, who is the Patricia Smith, means that you can discuss the strengths or weaknesses of a particular line, how it should be broken, it’s music or lack of it, whether it needs to be put in a drawer or how and who to approach for publication, etc. and you can also talk about what it means to be a Black women poet in today’s America, movies, gossip (literary and otherwise) or whether that dress you want to buy is flattering…or not so much….. PS: It’s funny, because we don’t write together. We don’t even look at each other’s work much. But as I’ve grown older, my concerns have changed, my voice has changed, the things I think are worth writing about have changed. And it’s invaluable to have someone see you through those changes as she’s going through them herself. Lynne’s only a little more than four years older than I am, but she’s a bona fide beacon. She’s tireless (I can hear her laughing), and spirited and sharp—at a time when society expects us to “slow down.” She’s the reason I don’t tumble into ruts. She’s the reason I never stop looking for new ways to surprise myself. She’s the reason I’m not slowing down. You’ve both been featured in Torch Magazine previously—Patricia’s first feature being in 2007 and Lynne’s in 2024. As celebrated members of this community, what does “literary sisterhood” mean to you within the larger world of Black women writers? What do Black women writers need to hear or consider? LT: I’ve recently been reading The Sisterhood by Courtney Thorsson about a group of black women writers in the 1970s who, as the cover proclaims, “changed American culture.” Toni Morrison, June Jordan, Ntozake Shange, and others combined their knowledge, their resources, and their respect for each other to produce some of the most important work in American literature. Although difficult to maintain for a variety of reasons, I think Black women writers are no less in need of a sorority like that—or at least considering that model—whether it be only 2 people or a larger group. The support and honesty are invaluable in ways that may seem invisible to others but create an advantageous environment for its members. PS: Wow. I’m pretty sure I would have answered this differently back in 2007. Literary sisterhood could be defined as women supporting each other in their writing. Now it’s women who support each other in their lives. The writing isn’t all there is. Literary sisterhood means holding on to each other—supporting self-care, forging paths through grief and loss, comforting during illness. Each sister needs to be the best she can be so the writing has a clear path forward. A good sister will see to that. Black women need to hear that everyone wants to be us. They’ve worked diligently at convincing us that we are what is wrong in this world. It’s so empowering not to listen. What’s an early example of Black sisterhood (in life or media) that impacted you? LT: Waiting to Exhale, four women with different styles and approaches to their lives, who supported each other even when they disagreed. PS: Back in 1977, a spectacular group of Black women gathered in June Jordan’s apartment. Toni Morrison. Alice Walker. Ntozake Shange. They gobbled gumbo, guzzled champagne, and proceeded to change the lives of every Black woman writer who came after. “The Sisterhood” later opened its arms to others, including Audre Lorde, Margo Jefferson, Paule Marshall, and met every month for two years—can you imagine? They talked craft and revolution and Black love. They surveyed the literary landscape that sought to erase them. And they laughed and leaned on one another. Do you see echoes of each other’s language, rhythms, or obsessions in your writing after years of knowing one another? How do you feel about that kind of creative influence? PS: I don’t think so. Part of what makes us friends is how absolutely different we are. On the other hand, some influences are hard to see if you’re the one exerting the influence or the one being influenced. I think someone outside of the two of us would be a better judge of that. I’m not sure we’d be able to see it. LT: I think at a very base level, we’re both committed—in different ways—to the narrative and love pursuing the myriad ways to put it on the page. Moreover, we’re both obsessive about “the best words in the best order,” but what influences me most about Patricia’s writing is her work ethic and commitment. When she’s in “the zone,” don’t call her—not even when that dress you’ve both been drooling over goes on sale. The good news is she’ll call you back when she’s done and say “buy it—immediately!” You are both incredible at using and subverting new and classic forms, and you both often talk about your willingness to try new things on the page. What new things are calling you these days? What are you playing with? LT: Largely influenced by Patricia, I’m playing (as I have been for quite a while) with the crown sonnet… its possibilities are breathtaking, and I hope to conquer my anxiety about it in the new manuscript I’m contemplating. PS: No matter what Lynne says, I CANNOT craft her concoction ‘the centorina” (I think that’s it), where she combines the sestina and cento. It is utterly impossible. I’ve also decided, just last night, in fact—to create my own form. I’m currently checking to see if it’s already been done before I tell Lynnie about it. I’m also about to dive into a memoir, and I fully intend for it to be hybrid and surprised in both form and content. We’ll see how that works. The last thing you ate is the name of a new poetic form. What is it? LT: Black beans. PS: CAVA! What’s a memory you have together that you laugh about to this day? LT: Patricia was a featured speaker at a conference in Chicago, and I was in Chicago at the same time….we were staying in a fabulous hotel that had a “private room” above the lobby that served wine and other beverages and small bites, and we loved being in there, mostly by ourselves, and people-watching from a perch where no one could see us! PS: SO MANY. I wonder how many I can reveal publicly. One of the funniest ones involves a car, a mother, and prison. And no, neither of our mothers has been to prison. Lynne, what do you wish more people knew about Patricia? Patricia, what do you wish more people knew about Lynne? PS: I wish more people knew how hard Lynne works at her craft. She’s constantly reading, studying, reaching—and just when you think she can’t get any better, she does. She refuses to sit still, creatively and otherwise. I also wish more people knew that, as a former lawyer, Lynne can be delightfully insufferable. For instance, while we were in Las Vegas for her birthday, we went to a show by the magician David Blaine, who performed a trick that was absolutely impossible. Instead of enjoying the trick for what it was, Lynne will NOT REST until she figures out how he did it. Which she never will. LT: Most people who know Patricia know about her generosity, but I’d like them to also recognize her thoughtfulness, which is something a little different. If she has you in her sights—whether for a birthday or a literary recommendation or anything else—she carefully considers the best way to achieve a goal in a way the recipient will forever treasure. What’s your favorite poem of each other’s? LT: You ask the impossible! Have you read Patricia Smith!!!?!? Ok, today I’ll say "To Little Black Girls, Risking Flower." PS: Umm…this should be interesting. My favorite of Lynne’s is “How I Learned Where We Come From,” from—I think—Beg No Pardon. I love it best when Lynne writes about home, her people, and I can feel how firmly she’s rooted in her beginnings. The poem just lifts me up and puts me down right in the center of it, with that call and response singing in the air. I don’t think she knows how much I love it. How can people support you right now? LT: Of course, if people read my work, I am forever grateful. But even more important, if they would add poetry to their reading regimen, particularly the poetry of Black women, their reading would “lift all boats!” PS: CASH MONEY. We LOVE to travel. That’s what’s so good about being queens (remember, that’s my term for “elders”)—we can afford to be fascinated by anywhere, and (usually) we can afford to get there, to laugh and luxuriate and revel in everything we’ve learned. Just recently said “Costa Rica?” and Lynne said “Yep!” WE COULD USE BENEFACTORS. Seriously, just keep reading what we write and keep challenging us to do better. Expect something new every time you see us. Besides each other, name another Black woman writer people should know. LT: Taylor Byas….her newest poetry collection Resting Bitch Face is a must-read. PS: Aris Kian. I’m the editor of the Miller Williams Series at the University of Arkansas, and I just chose her phenomenal book, Heartless Architecture, for publication next year. It amazes me when a stellar poet emerges, then you find out that they’ve been doing the good stuff for a while and you just weren’t seeing. She’s a Houston Poet Laureate emeritus, and writes with an unflagging love about her hometown and the roots of our folk in the American South. ### Torch Literary Arts is a 501(c)3 nonprofit established to publish and promote creative writing by Black women. We publish contemporary writing by experienced and emerging writers alike. Programs include the Wildfire Reading Series, writing workshops, and retreats. Click here to support Torch Literary Arts.

Jordan Bolden Majewski (she/they) is a Black queer poet and essayist living in the Bay Area. Her work explores the embodied experience of Black motherhood in its full spectrum– the many dangers, surprises, and joys. Bolden Majewski’s work has always been grounded in the body– the places we touch and pull away, the ways we hurt and are healed, the things we carry inside ourselves that we hold apart from others. They write about the systems we must carry our bodies through– the medical system which fails Black women intentionally, repeatedly, and dangerously, and the education system which echoes the same failings with a callous neglect for Black children. Through the lens of motherhood, they are interested in the ways racism entangles itself in our intimate and daily relationships and routines, especially as they parent their three children surrounded by mostly white parents. Bolden Majewski seeks to highlight childhood from a place of agency and dignity, and wonders how that might change our politics. Their work appears or is forthcoming in Prairie Schooner, The Rumpus, Shenandoah, Crab Orchard Review, and The Panafold. She received an MFA in Poetry from New York University, and is currently at work on a poetry manuscript and a collection of essays. Lot His family flees, but Lot’s wife cannot resist a parting look on her home, the land where she walked dusty streets each morning to pull water from a deep well for her children, her tears crystallizing into long white rivulets down coarse salt cheeks cast in shadow. I walk over one block and down Bedford, sun bursting from concrete as I exit the train. I’m walking quickly past another woman. In her wake, I catch a man’s voice saying … pussy! Ohh— you smell nice. I smell you! I pass through words meant for her and they hang in my hair like smoke. What do you call the clean, round way words spring from meanness? If the lyric is a distillation of time, let me break, for you, the sudden-quick slap of another woman’s body in a strange man’s mouth against my skin. How to stop myself from turning? In the bible, Lot offers his virgin daughters to the crowd of ravenous men gathered rather than allow the men to harm the angels bringing destruction on Sodom. No one calls for help. This morning, I turn a corner. A man fills the avenue and grabs me as if my body were a song he wanted to play. This world, full of stories in which someone turns and a woman disappears. ### Torch Literary Arts is a 501(c)3 nonprofit established to publish and promote creative writing by Black women. We publish contemporary writing by experienced and emerging writers alike. Programs include the Wildfire Reading Series, writing workshops, and retreats. Donate to help Torch amplify Black women writers.

Aline-Mwezi Niyonsenga is a third culture kid who’s allergic to place. She writes about migrant experiences with the help of a tornado auntie, lion goddess, immortal witch, the occasional ghost, etc. Her work has recently been published in Uncanny Magazine, Augur Magazine, Andromeda Spaceways, GigaNotoSaurus, Fantasy Magazine, and FIYAH Literary Magazine. It has also appeared in anthologies such as As the Earth Dreams: Black Canadian Speculative Stories and Africa Risen. You can find links to her works on her website: aline-mweziniyonsenga.com/ My Friend the Lord of the Forest Like her missing cousin had advised, Gabi focused on one thing over studying: making friends. This was easy. As soon as she landed in the grey iciness of a foreign autumn, in a flat city of sharp rectangular lines, Gabi joined the community association and attended its youth conference event. This was a good distraction from her cousin’s disappearance. She could pretend his messages from a month ago were sent just yesterday. Introduce yourself clearly. Enunciate. Ask people about themselves. They’ll immediately feel closer to you. People love to talk about themselves. Gabi had laughed at the advice. She had no trouble being social. Her cousin had pointed out that she had spent most of her life among family at home, among friends at school. She didn’t have enough practice with meeting new people—total strangers, her cousin had stressed. He had been the same before he studied abroad. He didn’t want her to make the same mistakes. “Channel your inner Lord of the Forest,” her cousin had said. “Strong. Confident. Like you rule over trees.” Gabi had laughed. Her cousin would always make silly references to his favourite made-up character: the Lord of the Forest, both beast and mighty king. Gabi didn’t understand her cousin’s admiration, but the silliness of the memory was a good distraction. At the youth conference, Gabi ignored her freezing wet flats and laughed with other smartly blazered young people. “We haven’t seen you before. Where are you from?” was the common refrain. Questions of location, high school, university flew across the room. Common points were highly sought after. Once found, shoulders loosened. Then a man leaned close to Gabi’s ear and said, “You’re Ingabire, right? I know your cousin, _____.” Ice rubbed down her neck. Her nametag said Gabi. Not once had she introduced herself in full. “Oh, really? My cousin?” She hadn’t told this man where she was from. Her brain struggled to place him as the nerves in her chest squirmed with wary confusion. He wasn’t in the family group chat. Her cousin’s name was no longer mentioned there because who knew who was watching. “Yes, I read his article,” the man said. He didn’t introduce himself. “I study information technology. Where do you study?” “I’m job hunting,” Gabi said, and waved at someone behind him. She made three rounds around the velvety room, feet burning. In the bathroom she sobbed with her fist in her mouth. She grabbed her coat and left. Outside, a warm wind surprised Gabi, followed by a fleeting shadow. A big dog running past, Gabi reasoned. A big, big dog. Strangest of all was the smell of wet soil that lingered. # After the conference encounter, Gabi spiraled. Normal guests would come to her aunt’s house, but their questions unnerved her. Who knew who was watching. “I’m sorry about your cousin,” one friend of a friend said. Gabi avoided further visits. She hibernated at school throughout the winter, morning to night, weekends at the library. She spoke to no one. Would they ask about her cousin? Would they watch her every move? Would they report back? Her cousin was still missing. Him and his obsession with the Lord of the Forest. Gabi’s cousin was obsessed with one umugani he heard in primary school: the story of Sebwugugu. It was about a foolish husband and the poor wife who bore with his foolishness until he got himself killed. A ferocious beast killed him, so his wife kept house with an axe in her hand, ready to kill it should it come back. One day someone did knock at her door, introducing himself as the Lord of the Forest. Go away, beast! the wife said. I know who you truly are. Gabi didn’t remember how her cousin described it, but the Lord of the Forest was able to show that he was a noble individual who ruled justly over the forest and its creatures. I cannot ignore a woman alone. I simply wished to see you well. He might have left her gifts or the help of ten enchanted ploughs to help her through her harvest, but eventually she trusted him as someone more dependable than her husband, and they married. At this point, Gabi would snort, “That’s not even the right version of the story. A beast killed her husband, yes, but then the woman killed it, and the chief of a nearby village found out and rewarded her for getting rid of something that had killed his people. She married the chief.” “I’m asking you to imagine,” her cousin would say. “Imagine if the chief and the beast were the same. Then the Lord of the Forest would be like a metaphor for protecting our trees.” Her cousin had studied environmental science. “Imagine if he was still around to protect forests today. There’d be less deforestation, less bandits and poachers hiding in there.” Her cousin had written an article—a personal essay, he called it—about the Lord of the Forest and forest conservation, the dangers of overdevelopment, all in an effort to promote an equal exchange with nature, and pay it respect. Five months had passed since Gabi’s cousin went missing. Four months since her arrival abroad. The snow thawed. Her aunt must have complained, because her mother was urging her to say hi to so-and-so, to meet with so-and-so’s daughter, to show her face at parties. To pretend everything was normal for who knows who is watching. So when Gabi saw a poster for a student club, she decided to join. # Gabi joined Sanctuary Club on a sunny Monday afternoon. A place where everyone is welcome. You can make friends, or you can enjoy silence together. Arts and crafts activities are provided. The sun was setting later and later every day, making Gabi wonder if one day it wouldn’t set at all. The colourful people of Sanctuary Club were even stranger, with their dyed hair and clinking bracelets, studying degrees her parents would never pay for her to study. Their club president was a taller-than-tall man named Murugo, who smelled like Vaseline and eucalyptus. For the first time in months, Gabi felt she was at home. Murugo played an RnB playlist mixed with amapiano and old songs from home, while the club crocheted or glued magazine clippings to pieces of construction paper. Gabi did not know how to crochet, so she picked up a pair of scissors and an old student magazine. Murugo sat across from her. Up close, she could smell wet soil. It reminded her of the southern bamboo forest back home, where it was said Ngunda fell. She thought of swaying bamboo shoots. She cut a whole background of them off the magazine and glued it onto a blue piece of paper. “Where are you from?” she asked Murugo. “Gisenyi. I came here a long time ago, in the 90s.” He didn’t look that much older than her. He must have been a baby. They skirted around the topic of genocide and spoke instead about school and what was missing on the playlist. Murugo was also studying environmental science. Maybe because Murugo grew up outside, Gabi felt safe to speak about her own two siblings, her extended family, but nothing about her missing cousin. An old poet crowed over the Bluetooth stereo. Gabi snorted. “You’re like a grandpa.” But the steady drumming and keening words made her eyes water. Her cousin loved this song. Murugo had no siblings. No parents. Gabi bit the inside of her cheek upon hearing it. At least her cousin was not dead. He couldn’t be. Her first piece of art was a forest of smiling faces, the words rest and family big across the middle. The word rest reminded her of death, so she ripped that part off the artwork, crumpled the whole thing, and threw it away. No one questioned this. # Murugo hummed while he worked, a habit that reminded Gabi of her cousin, and for a moment she felt safe in the knowledge that somewhere somehow her cousin was humming. He was safe. The club didn’t have an end time, but Gabi left before sunset. When she left the club room for the day, Murugo’s hum would carry into the hallway, following her all the way outside like a low buzzing in her eardrums. Her cousin was safe. He must be. # Once during club time, Murugo stretched his arms up and yawned. His shirt was cropped so Gabi saw the scar on his belly, like the bullet scar her grandfather had, and suddenly she could see the bullet holes under the kitchen window in her grandparents’ house. Her cousin’s article mentioned how her grandparents had never found out who was shooting. Was it bandits? The old regime? One thing was for sure: they had come from the north. The article could have had to do with his disappearance. That’s what her family thought. He had been on his way to renew his passport and didn’t come back. The article had to be the reason, but sometimes there are no reasons. Sometimes family just disappears, and the people who took them never tell you why. Tears welled up in Gabi’s eyes, dripping onto the words family, lost, and found. She left the clubroom. Murugo followed her. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” she said. “I know a good place to cry.” He led her up a set of stairs, and more stairs, until they reached a door that pushed onto a roof alive with whirring sounds. Fans spun at the corners of a verdant paradise of potted ferns that formed a square around a swinging bench adorned with vines. The air was warm like home. The plants were outstretched arms like home. Gabi’s tears fell like so much rain back home. Murugo pointed to the swinging bench and said he’d be right back. Gabi let herself sink into the bench’s plush cushions. She wrung her tears out, wailing just loud enough to blend with the chorus of fans and mechanical whirs surrounding the garden. It all became a hum of noise, steady like a lullaby. Gabi woke to a tap on her shoulder. Murugo handed her a wad of tissues and she blew her nose. She hugged a cushion while he watered the plants with a plastic can. He scratched his belly, where the scar was. “How did you get shot?” she asked. Murugo looked out at the pinking sky. It was almost sunset already. “Bandits.” Of course. “My cousin is missing.” Gabi bit the inside of her lip to steady it. “They want to hold a funeral for him.” It hadn’t been a year yet, but did his family want to wait that long? One year would be agony for them, unspeakable for him. Better to believe he was dead. It was eight months since his disappearance. Murugo wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into him. As the sky blued, his arm warmed like fur. # “I remember the forest,” Murugo said. “It was vast back then. I’d climb the tallest tree and look out at everything. It smelled like damp leaves, like fresh oxygen, like soil. There were so many birds back then. And the mountain gorillas. They were many. I remember that white woman would be around them a lot. That was when the forest was smelling more and more like gunpowder, more like diesel. I heard more gunshots, people who didn’t belong running around. People fleeing.” Gabi tuned in around the mention of gunshots. “You remember all that?” He didn’t look older than thirty. He must have been a child. “I had to flee in the end.” Their silence skirted around war again, and the snip-snip of scissors carried them through the afternoon. Gabi glued a forest scene again. It had a monkey (she couldn’t find gorillas), birds, and a man with darker skin than Murugo. The only word she cut out was home. # Murugo announced he was travelling for a few months. The new club president was a pale girl with longish teeth. Good-bye was a brief hug and a promise to exchange song recommendations. Gabi swallowed her loneliness and redoubled her focus on her studies. One time she went up to the roof to cry, but the door was locked. Through the fogged-up window she saw grey shapes, like sleeping beasts in the gloom, and she remembered dozing on Murugo’s shoulder, how it had warmed like fur. “I promise you. Your cousin will be found,” he’d said. Gabi had chuckled. “You can’t promise that.” “I simply wish to see you well.” That day, Gabi left the clubroom after sunset. As she walked down the hall, noise exploded from the clubroom. Laughter morphed into barking. Shouts became howls. And there was a new smell, like wet soil, the same smell from the night at the youth conference, now coming from the room. Gabi walked away fast, following an instinct against trouble. The smell of wet soil lingered in her nostrils, following her all the way home. A shadow slipped under the streetlights. A big dog running past. A big, big dog. # Gabi ditched Sanctuary Club to form a study group with two people she met at a party her aunt dragged her to. They became fast friends. Their taste in music was fresh, not like Murugo’s grandpa's taste. She joked about this with her new friends. They teased her about how she might like him. The funeral was postponed. Gabi exhaled then remembered it didn’t mean her cousin was any less missing. She forgot how to inhale and spent the next few weeks relearning how. A second time she went up to the roof, but it was bare. The whirring came from generators, no fans, only a cold wind, reminding her of the day she first set foot on this strange country. It was supposed to be a new start, distance from her cousin’s disappearance, but the fact of his absence haunted her still. Her breath stuck in her throat and stayed there through winter. She holed up in library study rooms, this time with people she could laugh with. Her throat loosened just a little. A year and a half since her cousin went missing. She learned to breathe around the absence clogging her throat. A third time she went up to the roof to cry, but the door was locked. The window was too dirty to see through. It shone like the white haze of a winter storm. This time Gabi sank against the door. Was it even the right door? Had the verdant garden been a dream? Her phone vibrated. She ignored it. Ten missed calls passed from her mother. Gabi rubbed her eyes dry and called back, both wishing for and dreading the moment her mother picked up. “Gabi,” her mother sniffled. She didn’t like that tone. Gabi reached for the locked door behind her. She yanked on its handle, as if it might help her escape. “Is he dead?” Gabi asked. The lock clicked, a clear sound in the trembling silence. Gabi tumbled onto the roof. The white haze broke into golden sunlight over the verdant garden, alive again with potted ferns arranged in a square around its creaking swing. Vines wrapped around the swing, and Gabi pulled on one of its leaves as she sat on the swing’s cushions. The smell of wet soil filled her nostrils. “Your cousin is back,” her mother said. “Kasha is back.” Gabi’s throat loosened into a squeak. “Alive?” The sound of a hum grew deeper than the whirring fans. Gabi lowered her phone to listen, checking behind her. A fleeting shadow blinked past. A dog running. A big, big dog. “Gabi?” Her mother’s voice faintly bleated through her fingers. “Are you there?” Water poured from a plastic can, showering the ferns in the garden. Gabi did not have to see the face that did it. She knew who it truly was. “Murugo?” The air was wet soil, the smell of home. Her cousin was home, but the Lord of the Forest was not. ### Torch Literary Arts is a 501(c)3 nonprofit established to publish and promote creative writing by Black women. We publish contemporary writing by experienced and emerging writers alike. Programs include the Wildfire Reading Series, writing workshops, and retreats. Donate to help Torch amplify Black women writers.

The Team Amanda Johnston Founder / Executive Director Read More Sierra Lewis Administrative Associate Read More Dana Weekes Board Treasurer Read More Dalia Azim Board Member Read More Jen Margulies Advisory Board Member Read More Brittany Heckard Communications Associate Read More Dr. Sequoia Maner Board Chair Read More Shannon Johnson Board Member Read More Hallie S. Hobson Advisory Board Member Read More Sheree L. Ross Advisory Board Member Read More Jae Nichelle Associate Editor Read More Rachel E. Winston Board Secretary Read More Erin Waelder Board Member Read More Raina Fields Advisory Board Member Read More Parneshia Jones Advisory Board Member Read More

Latest News Jun 28, 2026 Thanking Our Funders for their Support for Black Women Writers In our 20th Anniversary year, seven major funders are stepping up to support Torch’s mission to amplify Black women writers. Read More Jun 1, 2026 June is a Celebratory Time for Black Women Writers This June, we’re celebrating queerness, Black Texans, Caribbean heritage, and lyricists who bring their magic and impact to the Torch community. Read More Apr 29, 2026 Torch Announces First Ever Nominations for Best New Poets Anthology Two Torch Features, Tiezst "Tie" Taylor and Mecca M. Miles, are Torch’s inaugural nominees for their outstanding poems. Read More Apr 2, 2026 Celebrating 20 Years of Highlighting Black Women in Poetry Torch is elated to celebrate National Poetry Month and the Black women poets in our community. Read More Mar 31, 2026 Torch Literary Arts Announces New Board Member Dalia Azim joins the Torch board, bringing her expertise in literary programming and partnerships in the Austin literary community. Read More Mar 12, 2026 Torch Literary Arts to Open Registration for “A Gathering of Flames: Celebrating 20 Years of Torch Literary Arts” on March 16th The inaugural gala and conference will feature Rachel Eliza Griffiths, Sharon Bridgforth, Patricia Smith, and Crystal Wilkinson from September 25-27, 2026, in Austin, Texas. Read More Mar 6, 2026 Celebrating Women and a Sustainable Future with Torch This year’s Women’s History Month Theme urges us to celebrate women who are taking charge in regard to sustainability, and this International Women’s Day urges us to give to gain. Read More Mar 3, 2026 Torch Returns to the 2026 AWP Conference in Baltimore For four days, Torch will join other writing organizations, writers, publishers, students, and more at the largest literary conference in the country. Read More Feb 27, 2026 Torch Literary Arts Welcomes New Team Member Torch adds a new position, Administrative Associate, to help with daily operations and support the needs of Torch Center. Read More Feb 5, 2026 Austin Film Society Joins Torch Literary Arts as New Community Partners The two organizations will amplify a series of film screenings showcasing Black women screenwriters, directors, and films that reflect Black culture. Read More Feb 1, 2026 Celebrating the Milestones of Community and History through Literary Greatness and Storytelling this Black History Month This year’s Black History Month theme, “A Century of Black History Commemorations,” urges us to acknowledge the historical impact of Black narratives. Read More Jan 29, 2026 Kicking Off 20 Years with the Spring 2026 Season Torch’s Spring 2026 Season builds on the history we've made in our 20 years of strengthening the literary community of Black women writers. Read More Jan 29, 2026 Important Transitions to Torch's Board of Directors This board transition includes the retirement of former board treasurer, Candace Lopez, election of new board treasurer, Dana Weekes, and the election of new board secretary, Rachel Winston. Read More Jan 28, 2026 Torch to Raise $10,000 during one of Austin’s Largest Giving Days Torch joins over 700 nonprofits during Amplify Austin to raise funds for Black women writers. Read More Jan 2, 2026 Celebrating a New Year with a Growing Community Taking the time to thank you all for your support in 2025 and share exciting news for 2026. Read More Dec 29, 2025 Ending the Year Strong with Community Impact and Growth Taking time to thank you all for your support in 2025 and share plans to end the year strong. Read More Dec 9, 2025 A Big Thank You to Our Major Funders In 2025, seven major funders supported Torch’s mission to amplify Black women writers. Read More Dec 5, 2025 Torch Raises $5,593 for 2025 GivingTuesday Campaign Joining one of the largest international giving days, Torch raised $5,593. Read More Dec 1, 2025 Torch Announces the 2025 Nominations for the Pushcart Prize Six Torch Features, Jordan E. Franklin, Joi' C Weathers, Imani Nikelle, Yolanda Kwadey, Jennifer Maritza McCauley, and Marchaé Grair are nominated for their respective works. Read More Nov 19, 2025 Torch Literary Arts Celebrates GivingTuesday with a Board Match, Supporter Toolkit, Giveaway, and More. Torch is joining millions around the world participating in the global generosity movement on December 2, 2025. Read More Nov 5, 2025 Torch Literary Arts Returns as a Partnering Organization for the 2025 Texas Book Festival Over two days, Torch will host poets Tiana Clark and Donika Kelly in Austin for a series of inspiring readings and conversations. Read More Oct 22, 2025 Torch Literary Arts Announces Transitions to 2025 Board of Directors This board transition includes the retirement of former board secretary, Stephanie Lang, and the election of new board member, Rachel Winston Read More Oct 15, 2025 Torch Announces the 2025 Nominations for the O. Henry Prize Two Torch Features, Jennifer Coley and Jessica Araújo, are nominated for their respective short fiction stories. Read More Oct 9, 2025 Celebrating the Second Annual Donor-Advised Funds Day Torch Literary Arts encourages families and individuals with donor-advised funds to consider supporting Black women writers and the programs we offer. Read More Sep 16, 2025 Torch Announces the Nominations for the Best of the Net Eleven Torch Features were nominated for their works in creative nonfiction, fiction, poetry, and visual art in Torch Magazine. Read More Sep 2, 2025 Torch Literary Arts Announces the Torch Center Coming Fall 2025 The local Austin nonprofit organization dedicated to building community for Black women writers will now have a physical location at the LINC of Austin. Read More Aug 28, 2025 Torch Literary Arts Releases Fall 2025 Season Torch’s Fall 2025 Season includes dynamic readings, a screenwriting conversation, book festivals, workshops, and more! Read More Aug 20, 2025 Torch Announces 2026 Dates for 20th Anniversary Celebration “A Gathering of Flames” will take place in Austin, Texas, from September 25 to 27, 2026, celebrating Black women writers and 20 years of Torch’s growing community. Read More Aug 1, 2025 Celebrating Torch and Black Philanthropy Month All August Long Torch is celebrating 19 years of community and impact with CIM goals, new updates, and more! Read More Jun 5, 2025 Celebrating the Intersectionalities of Black Women Writers June is a month full of pride for queer, Caribbean, and song-filled Black women writers and the readers who love them. Read More May 28, 2025 Torch Announces New Community Impact Member Donation Initiative The Community Impact Membership (CIM) program provides Torch’s monthly donors of at least $10 and annual donors of at least $100 with exclusive items and updates. Read More Apr 24, 2025 Torch Announces the 2025 Retreat Fellows Torch returns for a third consecutive year to host eight fellows at their annual retreat for Black women writers at the Colton House in Austin, Texas, from July 20-27, 2025. Read More Apr 1, 2025 Celebrating Black Women's Contributions to Poetry All Month Long Continuing on months of celebrating Black History Month and Women’s History Month, we’re keeping the acknowledgments alive with National Poetry Month Read More Mar 27, 2025 Torch Literary Arts Awarded AWP Writing Organization Award This is the first-ever Writing Organization Award by the Association of Writers & Writing Programs, which is awarded to literary organizations based on the legacy of writing organization advocate Kurt Brown. Read More Mar 17, 2025 Torch Literary Arts Recognized at the Ireland House During SXSW with Prime Minister of Ireland Micheál Martin Torch’s “Writers Across the Diaspora” program in partnership with the Irish Consulate, Culture Ireland, and Texas State University was highlighted. Read More Mar 11, 2025 Celebrating Women’s History Month and International Women’s Day This year’s themes of moving forward together and accelerating change reinforce Torch’s mission to ALWAYS support Black women writers and the stories they share. Read More Mar 7, 2025 Torch Raises over $6,000 during Amplify Austin Campaign Joining over 700 nonprofits for one of the largest giving days in Central Texas, Torch raised over $6,000 to amplify Black women writers worldwide. Read More Feb 10, 2025 Help Torch Raise $10,000 during Amplify Austin’s 2025 Giving Campaign! For the third year in a row, Torch is participating in Austin’s metro-wide giving day to merge the Black women literary community with the wider Austin giving community. Read More Feb 10, 2025 Wintergreen Women Writers Collective and Torch Literary Arts Partner to Host Welcome Table Talks Series featuring Black Women Writers The two literary organizations dedicated to creating community for Black women writers will host a series of talks over the next three years thanks to funding from the Mellon Foundation. Read More Jan 31, 2025 Celebrating Black History Month by Acknowledging Black Women Writers and Their Contributions to Literature Torch is using this year’s Black History Month theme “African Americans and Labor” to highlight the literary work we do to share our voices. Read More Jan 24, 2025 Torch Literary Arts Announces 2025 Spring Season Torch’s 2025 Spring Season is full of community collaborations, readings, writing workshops, and more to empower and encourage Black women to continue telling their stories. Read More Jan 10, 2025 Torch Literary Arts to Open Applications for the 2025 Torch Retreat on February 3rd The Torch Retreat will host its third annual writing retreat for Black women writers at the Colton House in Austin, Texas from July 20-27, 2025. Read More Jan 3, 2025 City of Austin Cultural Arts Division Awards Torch Literary Arts the Thrive Grant along with Other Cultural Arts Organizations in Austin The Cultural Arts Division awarded $13 million in funds to local arts and cultural organizations for a second year with Thrive and Elevate grants. Read More Jan 3, 2025 Torch Literary Arts Announces Retirement of Board Member Dr. Omi Osun Joni L. Jones Dr. Omi Osun Joni L. Jones joined the board in 2023 bringing her expertise as an artist, performer, author, and scholar to help support Black women writers. Read More Jan 3, 2025 Welcoming the New Year with Love and Community Taking the time to thank you all for your support in 2024 and share exciting news for 2025 Read More Dec 12, 2024 'Tis the Season for Gifts & Giving Find out how to support Torch and our community sponsors and supporters this holiday season! Read More Dec 4, 2024 Torch Surpasses Fundraising Goal for 2024 GivingTuesday Campaign Joining one of the largest international giving days, Torch surpassed its fundraising goal of $5,000. Read More Nov 22, 2024 Torch Literary Arts Celebrates GivingTuesday with Community and Board Matches, Ignite the Night, and More. Torch is joining millions around the world participating in the global generosity movement on December 3, 2024. Read More Nov 22, 2024 Torch Announces the Nominations for the Pushcart Prize Six Torch Features, Erica Frederick, A. E. Wynter, Sydney Mayes, Chidima Anekwe, Chyann Hector, and Mon Misir, are nominated for their respective works. Read More Nov 15, 2024 Torch Executive Director and Features Named as Brooks Living Legacy Honorees 20 Torch community members were named Living Legacy Honorees Read More Nov 1, 2024 Torch Literary Arts to Celebrate and Amplify Black Women Writers During the 2024 Texas Book Festival Over two days, Torch will host poet, essayist, and novelist Morgan Parker and Los Angeles Poet Laureate Lynne Thompson, and embark on a literary book crawl showcasing the works of the organization’s previous features. Read More Oct 18, 2024 Torch Literary Arts Welcomes New Team Members Thanks to capacity-building funding, Torch adds a Creative Content Associate and Administrative Fellow to the Team. Read More Oct 7, 2024 Celebrating National Book Month with Torch Literary Arts This October, Torch is celebrating National Book Month with Torch Day, an inaugural international program, and much more! Read More Sep 6, 2024 Torch Announces the Nominations for the Best of the Net Nine Torch Features were nominated for their works in creative nonfiction, fiction, poetry, and visual art in Torch Magazine. Read More Sep 5, 2024 Torch Literary Arts Receives National Book Foundation Grant The National Book Foundation awarded Torch funding from the Capacity-Building Grant Program. Read More Aug 30, 2024 Torch Announces the Nominations for the O. Henry Prize Two Torch Features, Felicia A. Rivers and Lydia Mathis, are nominated for their respective short fiction stories. Read More Aug 29, 2024 Torch Literary Arts Releases 2024 Fall Season Torch’s 2024 Fall Season includes international poets, a screenwriting panel, workshops on character building and memoirs, the Wildfire Reading Series, and more! Read More Aug 2, 2024 Celebrate Torch’s 18th Birthday & Our Mission to Amplify Black Women Writers Our wish this August is to gain 18 new monthly recurring Torch supporters & more! Find out how to celebrate our birthday with events, well wishes, and donations. Read More Jul 19, 2024 Torch Literary Arts Welcomes Erin Waelder to the Board of Directors Erin was welcomed to the board in June, bringing her extensive background in development communications. Read More Jul 12, 2024 Torch Literary Arts Receives Poetry Foundation Grant Torch Literary Arts (Torch), a nonprofit organization dedicated to amplifying Black women writers, will receive funding from the Poetry Foundation. This is the nonprofit’s second year receiving funding from the foundation. Read More Jun 28, 2024 Torch Literary Arts Receives Burdine Johnson Foundation Grant This is Torch's third year receiving the grant that serves Central Texas arts, education, historical preservation, and environmental sustainability causes. Read More Jun 5, 2024 Celebrate Pride Month by Amplifying Queer Black Voices At Torch, we recognize the many impactful contributions that queer Black women writers have given us and wish a Happy Pride to all those celebrating! Read More May 31, 2024 Torch Feature Yael Valencia Aldana Receives Pushcart Prize For the second year in a row, a Torch Feature has received a Pushcart Prize for their amazing work published in Torch Magazine. Read More May 24, 2024 Torch Literary Arts to Receive Grants for Arts Allocation from the National Endowment for the Arts This is Torch's second year receiving funding from National Endowment for the Arts. Funding will go towards artist honorariums for retreats, workshops, panels, and readings. Read More Apr 12, 2024 Torch Announces the 2024 Retreat Fellows Eight fellows were selected to attend the second annual retreat for Black women writers at the Colton House in Austin, Texas from July 21-28, 2024. Read More Apr 11, 2024 Torch Literary Arts Welcomes Dana Weekes to Board of Directors Dana Weekes was welcomed to the board in March, bringing her extensive background in law and policy, and commitment to creation as self-care. Read More Apr 5, 2024 Celebrating National Poetry Month with an Ode to Poets Every April, Torch is elated to celebrate the Black women who put words to feelings by celebrating National Poetry Month Read More Mar 22, 2024 Website Updates: New Transparency Documents, Including Three-Year Strategic Plan Torch Literary Arts updates website to include transparency documents including IRS Form 990s, Annual Reports, and the 2024-2026 Strategic Plan. Read More Mar 8, 2024 Celebrating Women’s History Month and International Women’s Day Torch Literary Arts acknowledges and celebrates the many literary contributions of women to history and the wonderful Black women writers across the diaspora. Read More Feb 16, 2024 Torch Literary Arts Opens Applications for the 2024 Torch Retreat The Torch Retreat will host its second annual writing retreat for Black women writers at the Colton House in Austin, Texas from July 21-28, 2024. Read More Feb 9, 2024 Celebrating Black History & Futures 24/7, 366 days This Black History Month, Torch acknowledges the importance of amplifying Black women writers year-round. Read More Jan 30, 2024 Austin Community Foundation Announces Torch Literary Arts as one of The Black Fund Grant Partners The Black Fund’s recognition of Torch Literary Arts as a grant partner allows Torch to continue hosting special events for Black women writers in the Austin community. Read More Jan 26, 2024 Torch Literary Arts Unveils 2024 Spring Season Torch’s 2024 Spring Season is full of workshops, panels, an interactive literary cooking event, and much more to help Black women writers share their unique stories. Read More Jan 16, 2024 Torch Literary Arts Announces Transitions to 2024 Board of Directors This year’s board transition includes the retirement of former board chair, Florinda Bryant, and elections of new board chair, Dr. Sequoia Maner, new secretary, Stephanie Lang, and new board member, Shannon Johnson Read More Jan 9, 2024 Culture Ireland Awards Torch Literary Arts Funding to Host Irish Poets Torch will use the Culture Ireland funding to host Irish poets Nithy Kasa and FELISPEAKS for interactive writing workshops from October 1-7, 2024. Read More

< Back Website Updates: New Transparency Documents, Including Three-Year Strategic Plan Brittany Heckard Mar 22, 2024 Torch Literary Arts updates website to include transparency documents including IRS Form 990s, Annual Reports, and the 2024-2026 Strategic Plan. Being a nonprofit requires securing funding to continue operating into the future. This means that building trust and transparency is necessary for foundational support, individual donors, partners, and friends. We feel that clear, accessible information about Torch’s plans, review of yearly programmatic impact, and financial reporting to the IRS are important ways to show our community that we are committed to amplifying Black women writers. As a nonprofit, tax-exempt organization, Torch wants to ensure all of our donors and friends know how much their contributions make an impact in the lives of the Black women writers we support. The easiest way is to remain transparent by making our financials and planning documents available to the public. You can now view Torch’s transparency documents by visiting torchliteraryarts.org/reports . How is Torch ensuring sustainable progress and setting measurable goals for the future? Starting last fall, Torch began a strategic planning process to envision detailed and measurable progress toward the mission to amplify Black women writers. The plan details priorities for the board, leadership and team, and community members. The three-year plan ends with the 20-year celebration of Torch in 2026 – a milestone for a community that will only continue to grow. View our strategic plan here . How is Torch keeping track of its impact? 2022 was Torch’s first year as a nonprofit organization. It’s also the first year of recording our programmatic impact – the many free workshops we’ve held, the amount of Friday Features we’ve published, and our financial statement. While annual reports aren’t required by law, we want to give you an inside look at Torch’s first year as a nonprofit. Celebrate the growth of Torch Literary Arts, our award-winning and globally recognized programs, and our partners and donors by viewing our 2022 annual report here . How is Torch keeping it really, real? We have the necessary Internal Revenue Service documentation to back it up. Our 2022 Form 990 is the necessary document all nonprofits must file to maintain their nonprofit status. If you want to take a deeper look into Torch’s financials including revenues, expenses, programmatic costs, etc. You can view our 2022 IRS Form 990 here . We hope that you review each of our documents and continue supporting Torch Literary Arts in the future. Be on the lookout for more transparency documents like our 2023 IRS Form 990 and 2023 annual report coming later this year! ### About Torch Literary Arts Torch Literary Arts is a 501(c)3 nonprofit established with love and intention in 2006 to publish and promote creative writing by Black women. We publish contemporary writing by experienced and emerging writers alike. Torch has featured work by Toi Derricotte, Tayari Jones, Sharon Bridgforth, Crystal Wilkinson, Patricia Smith, Natasha Trethewey, Elizabeth Alexander, and others. Programs include the Wildfire Reading Series, workshops, an annual retreat, and special events. Help Torch continue to publish and promote Black women writers by donating today. Media Contact Information: Brittany Heckard Communications Associate bheckard@torchliteraryarts.org (512) 641-9251 Previous Next