Review of "Suitcase" from recent issue

Here's an excerpt from a review of Diane Simmons' "Suitcase," published in the most recent volume of Blood Orange Review. Click on the link below to go to the full review.

Her finely-realized fiction piece, "Suitcase," is an incisive look at the hazy dawn of a young girl's maturity and simultaneous capture of the slow fade of an earlier idealistic era.

Read Diane's work in its entirety here.

Blood Orange in the News!

Orange with envy
Writers and artists nationwide vie to have works published in the online-only literary journal Blood Orange Review
By Barbara Curtin • Statesman Journal
August 14, 2009


Poets and artists nationwide vie for a chance to appear in the Blood Orange Review, a literary journal published from Salem. The latest issue came out last weekend, but you won't find it in local bookstores. It's published online only at http://www.bloodorangereview.com/. Internet publication made it possible to create the journal on a shoestring budget four years ago, said co-editor Stephanie Lenox of Salem. The online-only format continues to be an asset during tough times. [Read the entire article]

Blood Orange Review 4.2 is here!

We're so excited to announce our new issue of Blood Orange Review!

Featuring artwork by Leonard A. Heid, audio poetry, and translations from Romanian poet Floarea Ţuţuianu.

This issue includes work by:

Tabitha Dial
Bonnie McClellan
Colin Pope
Diane Simmons
David Thacker
Donna D. Vitucci
Lafayette Wattles

Editor’s Note--The Familiar Blip
Blood Orange Review 4.2

Last week at the local Goodwill, I found an old AIWA stereo that plays compact discs and cassette tapes. It was equipped with a speaker and a red and black wire that one would have to manually attach the speaker to the outlet in the back of the stereo. The speaker box was large, the size of a small filing cabinet, but probably weighed less than three pounds. I inspected the tag where someone had scribbled ten dollars in a blue sharpie. I inquired from one of the workers if the stereo worked. She smiled strangely—insultingly—and said yes. I smiled back, thinking sold. [continued]