Ah, young talent! In the spirit of spring and new beginnings, emerging writers are a symbol of good things to come. Sophie Panzer, author of ‘The Commute’ (Issue 18), is brimming with fresh ideas and expression — fitting for our Spring Issue.
Sophie studies history at McGill University, and was a finalist for the 2017 QWF Literary Prize for Young Writers, a 2016 Pushcart Prize nominee, and the winner of a 2015 Scholastic Art and Writing Awards National Silver Medal. We also have it on good authority that she is a fan of musicals and long walks in the woods.
If you’re wondering what the future holds for Sophie, we we can tell you a few things to keep an eye out for. Issue 29 of Gingerbread House Literary Magazine and the inaugural issue of Fearsome Critters: A Millennial Arts Journal will both contain poems penned by Sophie Panzer. Additionally, her chapbook, Survive July, will be released this summer with Red Bird Chapbooks. Her debut chapbook is “…a hybrid collection of flash fiction, text messages, and mini plays that tells the story of a young woman struggling with her mental health and sexuality after her first year of college.” We’re excited for it all.
To get you hooked on Sophie’s storytelling style, here’s a peak at ‘The Commute’ from the newly released Pulp Literature Issue 18.
by Sophie Panzer
There’s a demon in the metro again, which means I’ll be late to work for the second time this week.
“This is ridiculous,” I hear a woman behind me hiss as a small crowd of harried commuters throngs around the Atwater metro entrance. A sign in French and English reading, “Out of service 6h — 9h due to demonic paranormal activity. We apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for your patience,” is affixed to the doors.
“This is the second time this month!” I turn to the source of the voice, a middle-aged woman with a severe haircut and a navy pantsuit. She looks and sounds like my mother, a formidable, wealthy matriarch from Westmount used to getting her own way in her office and on the synagogue board.
“The people who cut funding to the DPAM don’t even live here,” someone else wails. “If they had to deal with this commute, we wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit.”
I’m already mentally drafting an apologetic excuse to my boss, Sharon, but I doubt it will do me much good. I’m working as a paralegal in her downtown office because she’s an old friend of my mother’s. She’s not my biggest fan, especially since I turned her son down for prom in grade twelve and called her out for being a tiny bit racist when she said the one black member of our congregation looked like her hair had been attacked by a vacuum cleaner.
Spring into the rest of ‘The Commute’ in Issue 18!