Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Stepping down as Antipodes editor after final issue of 2018

Dear all, as most of you know, for eighteen years I have edited ANTIPODES, a US-based journal of Australian and New Zealand literature. Indeed, my history with the journal goes back to 1993, when I first became Associate Book Review Editor.
When I first began working with the journal, Bill Clinton was the new President of the US, John Major was PM of the UK, Fran├žois Mitterrand President of France, Boris Yeltsin was President of a still-hopeful Russia. LeBron James was nine years old, Clayton Kershaw five. More pertinently, Paul Keating was Prime Minister of Australia, the Mabo decision just handed down, and Patrick White had only recently passed away.
It's been twenty-four years for me with the journal overall, and with my marriage and job changes, and my wish to concentrate on my own writing, it is time for a transition. I have told the Board of our sponsoring group, the American Association for Australasian Literary Studies, that I am leaving the journal as of the last issue of 2018. The Board is right now voting on a highly qualified successor and I hope to announce that name shortly.
I have most of the next few issues ready--there have been publication delays recently, and a lot of stuff is in the pipeline--but still need seven or eight literary-critical articles for the last issue. So if you want to be part of my final issue please send work my way!
It has been a great privilege and joy working with so many of you in a field that a generation ago was still seeking academic legitimacy, but that now, though hardly without issues, has a flourishing infrastructure of journals and institutional support, a talented cohort of younger scholars, and is making more and more fascinating global and textual connections within and beyond the merely 'national.' I will continue to be active in the field as a writer, even if no longer as an editor. But it is time for me to step down from ANTIPODES, and to let a new hand take over.
"All is still.
I lean on my axe. A cloud of fragrant leaves
hangs over me moveless, pierced everywhere by sky."
--Les Murray

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