Most events are installed on their deadline date, unless there is a long submission window or unless it's a rolling submission.
P=Poetry, N=Nonfiction, F=Fiction
In our next edition we’re looking for creative explorations of the science of Synergy — interactions, collaborations, things that together become more than the sum of their parts.
We like to uphold the unique, showcase the weird, and embrace the uncomfortable.
Minimal departure, brevity, turns of phrase that hold us in pause, we always want Horror submissions for October!
Soil—the, epidermal layer of the body of fertile Mother Earth—is life itself; however, it is also death. We at Penumbra are anxious to gather a body of art and literature, locally sourced and from around the world, that focuses on earthy, dirt-related themes.
This edition heads out in search of home – what it means to us, why it matters and how it shapes our sense of self.
Poems should be on the theme of FRIENDSHIP – though we’ll leave it to you how you interpret the theme.
We explore original work which inspires awareness of the human condition.
How do you know earth? Time stuck in squelching mud; digging your hands into soil; planting seeds or pulling up roots. A landslide. A drought. Gravity, keeping you. What does earth evoke? What does it make possible?
From the geometric shapes of gardens in European castles, to the gardens of the Victorians on the wilder side, gardens could be seen as an expression of individuality and culture.
Give us your best holiday fails (any December holiday, from Hannukah, to Solstice, to NYE, etc.) or your best funny work about noodles that happens to ALSO be holiday-themed in some way.
Write about your own interpretation of the Zodiacs. Push the envelope. Step out of the box and conquer the unknown.
Who do we consider family? Do non-human animals count? Do plants and insects? Will AI chatbots really replace human interaction?
Enchanted Garden is a haiku journal created for haiku lovers, beginners or experienced, is open and free to anyone to submit their work, in accordance with the haiku spirit.
Our Summer 2025 issue will be dedicated to poems about food.
Jimmy Carter saw one. So did Ronald Reagan. Harry Truman never saw one but worried about them and Bill Clinton never saw one but always wanted to. How about you?
Send us your genre-defying, liminal, non-human human. Send us your fringe and the shadows-in-the-corner-of-your-eye.
We invite you to explore what "In the Lost and Found" means to you, whether it's rediscovering a forgotten song, reclaiming a lost part of yourself, or finding meaning in the unexpected.
We’re looking for stories, essays, memoir and poetry on anything to do with the transition to adulthood: first love, hormonal angst, Saturday jobs, brushes with the law, experimentation, gaining independence, losing virginity.
We are particularly interested in work that relates to a sense of spiritual life, ecology, and community, but we welcome submissions of all kinds that reflect one's unique stories.
Reflection isn’t limited to one idea or image- it is where art begins. What have your reflections looked like?