The Play

Conduit is a biannual literary journal that is at once direct, playful, inventive, irreverent, and darkly beautiful. Despite common sense and the laws of economics, Conduit has been thwarting good taste, progress, and consensus for over twenty years. Conduit publishes distinctive voices of literary merit—experimental to accessible, established to emerging—in snazzy volumes, featuring work that demonstrates originality, intelligence, courage, and humanity. Conduit champions a fresh mix of writers. If that isn't enough, Conduit reaches beyond the literary by interviewing astronomers, ethno-botanists, artists, graphic artists, and historians, et cetera, believing a vigorous imagination is one that is cross-pollinated by diverse areas of human inquiry.

The Second Act

We celebrated our twenty-fifth anniversary in 2018 by launching Conduit Books & Ephemera, a book publishing division. And, we came in hot, with two poetry book prizes: Marystina Santiestevan First Book Prize, to be judged by Bob Hicok, and the Minds on Fire Open Book Prize, to be judged by our editorial board. Not unlike the magazine, Conduit Books & Ephemera seeks work that prove itself to be innovative and honest, original and sincere. We're not afraid of weird if weird is a new means to truth, beauty, music, and understanding—weird as an affect is lame. For details, please see Books.

The Plot

Why an online edition? Primarily, this website is intended to complement and promote the print version and all the writers and artists therein. Although Conduit is now available in bookstores nationwide, it still is not widely distributed. In a perfect world, Conduit would be sold at the supermarket. Hopefully this site will make Conduit that much more accessible here and abroad. This website will also contain new content whose character will evolve in irregular intervals as we see fit and will most certainly include works that cannot be accommodated by the print edition.

THE CAST: Headshots

William D. Waltz

William D. Waltz is the kindly czar of *Conduit* and an immigrant from Ohio. He collects canned meats, arrowheads, and fallen stars.

Brett Astor

Joined forces with Waltz on issue #2. She has served the central role of Rasputin ever since. She left New York for real adventure and found it.

Randall Heath

Parlayed a gig as Associate Arts Editor into Art Directorship in one issue. Randall likes nice shirts, hot burritos, carnivorous plants, and San Francisco too.

Steven Lee Beeber

The Jew-punk of Jamaica Plain, is a Southern gentleman at heart and the new guy, eager to please. He interviews, he writes, he pogos, he cuts hair.

William Stobb

The mayor of La Crosse and a part-time riverboat captain, William can often be found along the banks of the Mississippi skipping stones.

Kyle Constalie

Hailing from the deep green woods of Wisconsin, Kyle is the descendent of cross-country skiers. He spends his days nursing the ill, the infirmed, and the worried.

Illustrious Hall of Fame

Zoe Anderson

For a few short years, Ms. Anderson, our one and only Web Mistress, made our website go. If it weren’t for Zoe, our first website wouldn’t have been as beautiful, as innovative, or as playful as it was. Heck, it wouldn’t have been at all. Nowadays she writes about food and designs websites and fanciful underwear in Portland. Check her out.

Steve Healey

As Associate Editor, this son of a spy conspired with us for twelve quick issues, including our teens (6-18). Mr. Healey read and read and read and read and proofread for Conduit. Today, he writes books of poetry and enjoys fine mustards of the world. Steve can be found along the Mississippi River, just south of the North Star.

Scott Bruno

Before he was king of the bees in the Queen City, Mr. Bruno held the lofty position of Art Director at Conduit. Scott contributed to the cause from the very beginning by designing our logo. He blew more than a few minds with his beautiful designs on the page and on the website for ten issues (6-15). Lucky for us all, he’s still at it. Check him out.

Paula Cisewski

Paula Cisewski just knows you can pronounce her last name. It’s like this: Shih-ZEv-ski. A tarot enthusiast, chronic band name generator, and amateur Thereminist, she’s up to something or other in Northeast Minneapolis.