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
We seek work that reimagines place. In addition to a wide range of place-engaged work, we continue to seek work in all genres that engages with the climate crisis.
Tell us tales of campers missing in the woods, sailors adrift at sea, lovers lost in each other's arms. We want stories that we will need a breadcrumb trail to find our way out of.
We want the truth. Tell us about yourself. Let us peer into your lives in a way only your closest friends do. Let's get to know each other.
So much fun stuff happened over a century of progress; have fun with it.
Our theme for this issue is an exploration of the multifaceted bonds we form, focusing on both platonic romance and the significance of chosen bonds.
Perhaps yours is a massive thermos of coffee first thing in the morning, or a bottle of those barely regulated pills they sell at truck stops.
Although the essay holds the central role at DPA, we are open to other genres, including experimental, poetry and flash non-fiction, as long as there is a first-person point of view.
We want fiction with memorable characters and realistic plots, poetry that is fresh and original, and nonfiction that is both thoughtful and entertaining.
We’re looking for work that expresses the aspects of healing that are life changing, profound, painful, cathartic, joyous or liberating. The moment you looked up and saw the sunrise and thought ‘I’m going to be ok’.
Tell us about reconnecting with a lost love, making amends with your dead mother, walking down the path you didn’t choose the first time.
We latch onto novel language and images, skilled awareness of sound, visceral reactions. We want to remember your lines, days later. We want to be surprised and envious.
For this issue we will be accepting work that explores relationships - one-to-one, groups, families, romances, friendships; challenges, highs, lows, patterns, and parallels.
Send us stories that announce themselves like a new year rolling in, literary essays about the latest ‘in thing’ you’re avoiding, or poems that straddle the intimate and public.
Our perfect submission defies categorization—pieces that could be “too speculative” for CanLit or literary magazines or “not speculative enough” for speculative magazines. However, we also love a good genre romp, and will publish across many genres.
For this issue, we seek stories that respond to ecology in all its forms, from its earliest roots to present-day ecologies which span people, organisms, systems, and worlds.
Prairie Fire is giving centre stage to women writers over fifty!
Will you take us flying in the air, bring us down to earth, set us alight with your words or plunge us into the watery depths? We can’t wait to find out.
For this year's contest, we want submitters to go wild--or domesticated, or sentient, or whatever other form of beastly you're feeling. In other words: we're seeking work from any and all genres that involves non-human living creatures in some way, shape, or form.
Tupelo Quarterly seeks to cultivate dialogue between the arts. With that in mind, we would love to consider works that exist at the boundaries of genres and disciplines.
We are seeking poems that celebrate the beauty of nature or speak to any personal or collective experience regarding the natural environment.