spring 2023 issue

Dear Readers,

Almost a year ago, I was presented with the opportunity to come onboard as Co-Editor-in-Chief of Rougarou. Despite the intense nerves I felt in taking this on, it has been one of the most enriching experiences in my writing life. I am grateful for that.

I inherited this position from the most capable hands of Kym Cunningham and Couri Johnson and in this capacity, it has been an honor and pleasure to serve alongside my Co-Editor-in-Chief, Maxwell Gontarek, and the incredible members of our editorial board, without whom none of this would be possible. As I bow out I do so with confidence in the fantastic work Max and the board will carry on in the years to come.

To our readers, thank you for being here with us and sharing in the magic, mystique, and absolute beauty of these pieces of writing—we hope they are as exciting to you as they are to us. To our contributors, thank you for trusting us with your work. It is a true privilege to be the bridge between you and the world.

Now, without further ado, we present the Rougarou Spring 2023 Issue! It’s a treat, for sure. If variety is the spice of life, this issue is well seasoned. There is something to make you feel everything and we are happy to be host to it all. Please enjoy!

—Brandi Hanna


Looking at the postcards I collected for the visual component of this issue’s launch, I tried to find some connection between the shells I found abroad, the hotels I found at Reflections of Old in Lafayette, and Rougarou

A shell, like a page, is a hotel. 

Next fall we’ll be missing not only Brandi, our Co-Editor-in-Chief, but also our Fiction Co-Editors Patrick and Dora and our Poetry Editor Spencer. They’re graduated and off to Dr. pastures. But the marks they’ve made on Rougarou and everyone behind the scenes are indelible. 

You can put your ear to them. 

We hope our departing cohortians will send postcards and we hope you’ll dig the saturated colors collected in this issue, from George Clarke’s watercolor ducks to Mark Putzi’s patch of blueberry jelly, from shells to hotels. 

There’s room for you. 

—Maxwell Gontarek 


It was on the train when I saw the watercolor ducks by George Clarke

How I’d Spend It by Heikki Huotari

Untitled 28 by John Muellner

I’m Through by Sara Ryan

Before Language by Benjamin Socolofsky

Clamshell by Dylan Foy

Season of Mango by Michelle Kicherer

Shimmer by Larisa Pazmiño

Kite Flying by Mark Putzi

I Live Among Trees by Mileva Anastasiadou

Room by Catherine Buck

Jaw Song by Andy Gottschalk

Maxwell Gontarek, Brandi Hanna


Spencer Silverthorne
Bram Frawley, Sam Huang, Eden Sliman

Patrick Caoile, Dora Holland
Harold Bosstick, Taylor Decuir, Ladi Opaluwa, Charlie Serigne


Raquel Thorne
Assistant Editor
Chrys Albarado

Chrys Albarado, Cortney Levine