Tristan McGough
Editor Roderick “John” Clark outside his Rockdale farmhouse.
“What a pleasure to be in Rosebud again, and in such good company!” begins the letter from Ursula K. Le Guin, addressed personally to the magazine’s editor Roderick “John” Clark. “Stay warm through the winter, + keep Rosebud blooming!”
This handwritten letter, postmarked January 16, 2018, was the final correspondence Clark would have with Le Guin — the literary powerhouse known for her science fiction and fantasy writing. She died on Jan. 22.
The novelist held a long-standing connection with the publication: Not only did she act as judge for one of Rosebud’s biennial contests, the Imaginative Fiction Award, but her work (across multiple genres) has been featured in the magazine many times over its 25-year existence.
The most current edition, showcases three of Le Guin’s terse, delicate poems. Known primarily for longer works of fiction that deal with speculative or invented realms, these pieces of verse represent a graceful, tightly controlled side of the artist’s writing; Le Guin chose to illuminate quiet nuances of the landscapes we often overlook.
A section from the poem “Seaward” reads: “morning dreams go drifting out / with the tide of light / vanishing as bubbles do / beings of air and water.”
Clark — who runs the literary journal from his 19th-century farmhouse on 20 acres of land just outside of Rockdale — has enjoyed close relationships with other literary figureheads throughout Rosebud’s dynamic two-and-a-half decades: Alice Walker, Stephen King and Norman Mailer have all contributed to the magazine. Ray Bradbury’s story, “The Trivial Pursuits Transporter,” was published in Rosebud before he died in 2012.
With literary giants like Le Guin and Bradbury in its corner, the magazine’s longevity may not be surprising. But for a literary journal, especially one without any major university funding, it’s nothing short of remarkable. The magazine survives by sales of the previous issue, and maintains a loyal base of readers. It is sold in hundreds of bookstores (including in Britain, Japan and Canada) and is collected in dozens of university libraries throughout the country.
Rosebud lacks the neat, organized aesthetic (and the stuffiness) of an academic journal. Each issue features a single visual artist, whose work adorns the cover and is also peppered throughout the pages. Issue 62 presents a human donning butterfly wings standing before a sea of flames; issue 61 displays a character in psychedelic ceremonial garb, awash in deep purple and electric blue. The publication is currently released twice a year (as opposed to triannually in previous years), and features 176 pages of everything underneath the literary sun. It’s this omnivorous approach to publication that sets Rosebud apart. Without a budget to advertise for subscribers and with a social media presence created only recently, the magazine has fought tooth and nail for its current niche in the literary world, and for its very existence.
“[Rosebud founder John Lehman] had this huge, sweeping vision for the magazine and almost no money. It seemed completely impossible — it intrigued me,” says Clark, who has a master’s degree in fine arts from San Francisco State. Before Lehman asked him to help create Rosebud, he worked as a magazine and small-press editor in Madison, where he learned important lessons about frugality and readership.
Today, as Clark is about to turn 71, he says he’s proud of the singular path the magazine has forged: “It’s something you won’t be able to imitate except by going by your own compass.”