Issue #2 is launched - and we’re incredibly excited about everything it is, and all it’s going to be. With the start of the New Year, though - and the anniversary of our first issue - we thought it would be fun to give a little recap of everything that’s happened since the début of our print.
So, there was that - our overwhelmingly successful launch party for the print edition - at which we distributed two-hundred copies of the magazine. And over the next two months, we distributed hundreds more! Copies of Quotidian drained from our hands faster than we could replace them. Bookstores were featuring us at the front of their tills; Glasgow Libraries wanted our ISBN so they could feature us in all of their branches; we even had readers in Sweden, Switzerland and Nova Scotia emailing to request copies of the print! And we sent them. Because when we said that Quotidian was going to be a free literary magazine, we meant it.
However, free distribution inevitably leads to a question of funding. We needed money to keep the website running through Issue #2, to print future issues, to put on events, to buy merchandise and to keep the magazine free for our readers. So we applied to the University of Strathclyde Alumni Fund and, after an intense application process, we got it! Since this monumental milestone, we’ve been able to represent ourselves at student fairs, design monogramed pens, renew our website, and push Quotidian even closer to our vision’s potential.
One aspect of that vision is to maintain Quotidian as a leading platform for beautiful and literary writing. And, because Issue #1 set the standard for quality rather high, our staff dedicated the entire autumn term to sharing and promoting Quotidian’s submission deadline. The result was startling. We received twice as many submissions as we did the year before, and all of a quality that made selecting the final 24 as difficult as ever.
The pieces in Issue #2 are different from last year. They’re diverse in tone and medium. They cover topics from identity and loss to the simple notion of what it means to listen. They’re isolating at times; they’re descriptive and lonely, and some of them carry enough weight in a single word to crush the pocket of air between your heart and your chest. But you will also laugh. You’ll smile and sigh and feel the titillating creep that comes with the magnetic pull of the perfect moment. So allow yourself to amuse passersby. Let yourself flinch and smile and gasp in the presence of coffee shop patrons, other passengers on your train, because that’s exactly what this issue has to offer - an experience of the quotidian, the everyday, that is anything but ordinary.