Little Magazines occur whenever a certain critical mass of imagination is achieved. No doubt angels study this phenomenon as part of their training in metapoetry, sitting in eternity's chem lab (a lot safer than the one in my high school, I bet), staring down into cut-glass graduated cylinders as the solution grows more and more saturated until--with a crystal ka-ping--another starlike little magazine hits the streets, or at least hallways, of the mortal sphere.

At UNB there has always been The Fiddlehead, which ka-pinged when New Brunswick was old growth forest and the Irvings were paying taxes, and grew into a vehicle for writers from the region, the country, the English-speaking galaxy. Now, with the increase in writing of all sorts provoked, in part, by the creative writing program, QWERTY springs into existence to astonish, amuse, and perhaps aggravate those angels. We need a forum that lets our talents talk to one another: a kitchen table, a bar, a grapevine, a rumour mill. Hey, angels, wake up. This is going to be on the exam.