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
How have women in theology challenged traditional views, and what can we learn from their voices today? Let’s dive deep into the wisdom and influence of these pioneering women of faith.
Starting with the 2023 edition, we are nominating for the Pushcart Prize.
How you interpret the theme is up to you. We like stories that grab us from the beginning, make us think, and keep us enthralled, as well as essays and memoir with a strong voice and a unique point of view.
We invite you to join us in the radical act of creative freedom, to challenge constraint and to imagine liberation in both bold and quiet ways.
Games of chance, fate, the unknown. We’re interested in reversals of fortune, luck, the house. Spin the wheel of your imagination and send us your best work.
We’re interested in the thin line between indulgence and survival. Between love and addiction.
What do you hunger for?
We want writing that speaks to the weight and wonder of living as First Nations people — where past, present and future aren’t separate but walk together.
We encourage submitters to simply have fun with the theme, or ignore it entirely.
This issue, we’re looking for works that expand beyond fixed identities and toward more expansive ways of being.
January is traditionally the moment for grand resolutions promising self-improvement, but fall is a season for new beginnings, too, with summer ending (in the northern hemisphere, at least) and school starting up again. What have you put away? What should you?
Is less more? Is more too much? Can less be enough? Is more actually more? We want this theme to feel open to countless interpretations.
I'm looking for plot driven narratives with strong characters.
We invite works that join us in asking: If Canada is a suburban nation, what are its suburban stories?
This competition is a space to share your reflections on summer — its warmth, transience, quiet wonder, and wild edges — through haiku that capture not only beautiful moments in natural world, but the many resonances with human nature to be found within it.
What do you think about when you drink your coffee or tea and what is your perfect moment, in the morning, at lunch or later?
How is the world inside your cup?
Now, without regressing into complete concealment, how can we repurpose the closet as a space for both safety and self-affirmation?
We want stories that draw blood, not for shock, but for honesty.
The pendulums of a grandfather clock; the alarm on your iPhone; the light and shadows on a sundial; the seeping sand in an hourglass. We all keep the same time, though it passes at different speeds. Smooth sailing. Stutter step. Slow as molasses.
Life is messy; how you respond is what makes you human.
Make us laugh. Make us fume. Make us grateful. Make us cry. Make us feel.