Voices West
In which a student lit journal predicts the future from the distance of 1997
It almost feels like a rite of passage for a writer to be published by a journal with the world “Voices” in the title, doesn’t it? Here’s Voices West, Spring 1997, and my story “What It Comes To.” (Remember last week when I said many of my early titles started with the word “what”—I wasn’t kidding! I picked this journal off my shelf at random!)
I’m surprised that this story is set in official DC, about a press secretary who has just been fired by a senator, who has lost his election after a sex scandal with a 13-year-old girl--!! (YIKES.) I’m surprised because I didn’t think I wrote many stories set in DC until I tackled the pieces in my collection ADMIT THIS TO NO ONE, but here we go. And my interest seems to tilt toward the worker bees, not the actual politicians—vibing with my theory that what makes Gatsby so great is that his story is told by a bystander, Nick Carraway.
The real story isn’t about the man losing his job, but that an old girlfriend (conveniently) appears who’s “the one who got away.” Do they run off to Mexico together? (I’ll let you guess.) The story is set during Christmas, and there’s a funny scene with a Salvation Army Santa ranting at our protagonist in a bar. Thematically, I seem to be going for some sort of commentary on the fruitlessness of questing for perfection.

While I never technically worked on Capitol Hill, I did work in a political organization for several years, as did my first husband. Also, living in D.C., there’s lots of opportunity to think about “D.C. people,” and this story finds much to poke (gentle-ish) fun at. (I actually laughed several times while reading this…note to self: write funny more often.) For my #secretscrapbook, there’s reference to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant on the Hill, which is a place that used to be called Pete’s and is now (I think?) Pete’s Diner. I embellished the real place and the real Pete and added liquor.
I wish I had cut the last paragraph of this story. Often in these early writing days, editors suggested I cut the last paragraph, and maybe I should think about that a little more these later days.
Here’s a line I like:
“You measured time like, like all the sand on the beach.”
So, Voices West was published by West Los Angeles College, and it feels like a student-run journal, since the VP of Academic Affairs is thanked, as is the West Los Angeles College Foundation. The journal doesn’t seem to exist anymore, but the school does: a community college with a vibrant and dynamic website. I wish they still published a journal: I got $50 for this story! (At some point I stopped recording payments—except on my taxes, natch. No audits here!)
It’s interesting I chose a male POV. I think I was working hard to get a story published in Esquire, as that’s the first place I submitted this piece to. A long path to publication…2 ½ years of mailing it out only to get another rejection slip in the mail.
I wish I had been more mindful of that throwaway 13-year-old girl. (Again, YIKES.)
Here’s the Editor’s Note where these 1997 students basically predict AI. Maybe they graduated and went off to Silicon Valley. I hope they still read!
(Note: My lack of highlighting skill on a computer is about equal to the sloppy highlighting I did on my college textbooks.)





You have a truly esteemed career, Leslie. I hope you feel, looking back, and know, in this moment, how respected you are.