Zoetrope: All-Story
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    Zoetrope: All-Story is Francis Ford Coppola’s internationally acclaimed fiction and art magazine.  
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    Zoetrope: All-Story is Francis Ford Coppola’s internationally acclaimed fiction and art magazine.  
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    Zoetrope: All-Story is Francis Ford Coppola’s internationally acclaimed fiction and art magazine.  

CURRENT EDITION

Guest Designer

Juman Malouf

Contributors

Jamil Jan Kochai
Stuart Dybek
Wes Anderson
Hanan Al-Shaykh

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NEWS & EVENTS

News and Events

Short Fiction Competition

Many thanks to all who entered the 2021 Short Fiction Competition. We appreciate the opportunity to read such bright and brilliant new work.

From nearly 2,000 submissions, guest judge and 2021 Pulitzer Prize finalist Daniel Mason honored the following stories . . .

Spring 2022 Edition

The editors are thrilled to announce the release of the Spring 2022 edition, designed by the acclaimed illustrator and costume and set designer Juman Malouf, with contributions from Oscar-nominated filmmaker Wes Anderson, MacArthur fellow Stuart Dybek, and PEN/Hemingway Award finalist Jamil Jan Kochai, among others.

Five Questions with Juman Malouf

Why did you accept the invitation to design the Spring 2022 edition of All-Story?
Zoetrope: All-Story is the only magazine I still receive in the mail! I always enjoy the stories—but, also, I love seeing how the designers completely reinvent each issue, which is always unexpected and wildly different from the last. I wanted a shot at it.

FROM THE ARCHIVE

Story artwork by guest designer Juman  Malouf

Tale of Dully’s Reversion
Jamil Jan Kochai

1

Shakako Jani was praying Fajr beneath the makeshift shrine she had built for her two martyred brothers, Fahim and Kadeem, when, at approximately 6:45 a.m., Dully Abdul Kareem, her second-born son, crossed the path of her janamaz and promptly transformed into a small monkey. And although, as she would later recall, Shakako did not see the transformation—her eyes fixed upon her janamaz—she did hear the cracking of seven English rifles being fired from somewhere deep within the Black Mountains, and because she knew that the Black Mountains were eight thousand miles away, in Logar, and that the last of the English rifles in Naw’e Kaleh had sold for a hundred pieces of cornbread in 1982, during the worst months of the massacre-famines, she realized that the cracking was not of death but of a different sort of reversion. Thus, upon finishing her prayer, Shakako knelt forward, picked through her son’s fallen leather satche . . .

PAST EDITIONS

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