Literary Mixtape Volume 27
- 13 minutes ago
- 3 min read
Side A:
Side B:
April 26, 2026
Typically when I write these, I have an idea for an angle or a message I'd like to share. I'll admit I've been at a loss for this one. Completely blank.
One thing persistently comes up, so maybe I'll share that. I didn't know it was what I wanted til I started writing this letter, but now I feel like it's the best choice.
I'm thinking I'll fold M7 at the end of this year—that makes two more issues, after this one.
When I started M7, I was dealing with heavy trauma in the aftermath of a serious event in my life. Me being me, I tend to throw myself into projects to try to outrun things. I've spent the better part of four years trying to catch my breath. Now that I finally have it, I think it's time to fold.
I was recently forced to pause—from work, from workouts, from projects—and it put things into sharp relief. Like many, I have to reckon with how I want to spend my free time and energy. Lately, I have a lot of projects and work on the go. My social life is very full. I'm happy, but very busy. Free time is at a premium, and I regret that I don't have the time or the capacity to give the M7 project the love it deserves.
So this is it—clock's ticking. If you've ever wanted to submit, do it now. Volume 28, to be published late July, is half full. I'll be reading for the rest of Volume 28, and Volume 29 (to be published late October). Send your best. I'll be happy to see what you float my way!
That said, let's dig into Volume 27.
Henrick's "Innocent When You Dream" takes us into the deep subconscious, and the shadows we find there—ones that haunt us with what could be.
"By The Way" is a meditation on the way repeating a song ad nauseam can heal something we don't even know is broken. Even if it means frustrating everyone within earshot along the way (poor Chris!)
Casey Jo's "Tiny Dancer" takes us into the operating room with small mercies between medical staff and patients. Tiny acts of kindness in common circumstances are sometimes as healing as the procedures themselves.
"Pumped Up Kicks" is exactly as you'd think it would be—a quiet lament for those lost to gun violence, and the quiet protests borne of grief in its wake. If this heartbreak is something you resonate with, I suggest Graham Irvin's "I Have a Gun", out with Rejection Letters Press.
Lizzy's "Black Velvet" takes us stomping and clomping across hardwood floors, square dancing in perfect time with our protagonists, finding flow state under the fluorescent beer signs and jukebox turns.
"Undone" follows the footsteps of a private walk through the neighborhood and all its stray thoughts—being uncool at parties, songs that get us through high school, dancing like no one's watching while the world comes apart like a sweater thread.
Kathryn's "Smoke on the Water" reminds me a bit of old Lana Del Rey. There's a wilderness years feel to it that plays all the keys of girlhood: smoking cigarettes, bumming rides, chasing parties, haunting drive thrus.
"Runnin' Down a Dream" is a tale of two dogs—one deeply loved, another not so much—that quietly broke my heart time and again. Be good to your pets, folks. Love them like each day might be the last.
See you in the inbox.
xo,
Kirsti