Two and a half years ago, the critic and editor John Freeman abruptly resigned his post as editor in chief of Granta, the tweedy British literary magazine that he’d spent several years remaking for a 21st-century readership. His departure—due, he said, to a slashed budget from the magazine’s philanthropist owner that would necessitate unfair staff reductions—prompted a flurry of media coverage, and plenty of hand-wringing over the future of the storied journal, whose publisher, deputy editor, associate editor, and art director followed Freeman out the door. A topic of equal intrigue but considerably less consternation was: Where would Freeman land next?

First, the editor, formerly president of the National Book Critics Circle, published a collection of his own interviews with famous novelists. Then he got to work assembling a book of essays about economic inequality in New York City. Finally, last summer, Freeman announced the more long-term venture everyone was waiting for: Freeman’s, a Granta-like literary magazine–meets-anthology that he would publish regularly in partnership with Grove Atlantic.

Now, a year later, the release of the first issue of Freeman’s is nigh. In a little more than a week, the journal will officially launch with a reading at the New School in Manhattan, the first in a 22-city tour. The Freeman’s formula will be relatively familiar to Granta readers: fiction, nonfiction, and poetry by new voices and literary heavyweights—Haruki Murakami, Lydia Davis, Louise Erdrich—alike. As with Granta, each issue of Freeman’s will take a specific theme. Freeman’s art director is former Granta art director Michael Salu, who also contributes a short story to the first issue. The main differences, Freeman tells me, are that his new project is “more American” (though its international roster of contributors says otherwise), and unlike Granta, a quarterly, Freeman’s will appear only twice a year.

“That was the number one reason why readers didn’t re-subscribe to Granta: They just can’t keep up with it,” Freeman explains, when I call him at the office of his girlfriend, the literary agent Nicole Aragi, to discuss his new endeavor. “Only Elena Ferrante can get away with publishing 2,000 pages in three years! We’re not her!” (After we get off the phone I do the math, and with the first issue of Freeman’s clocking in at 297 pages, at two issues a year, they’re actually neck and neck . . . but I take his point.)