Events

All stories must end with the last line provided, and you cannot change it in any way.

We are seeking prose and poetry that evoke feelings of abandonment, emptiness, loneliness, and the eerie ambiance of graveyards. Themes can also include the decaying remains of an old house or the bones of a relationship, depending on your unique execution.

Submissions are restricted to women and gender non-conforming people.

Just as self implies other, the seen implicates the unseen. Like othering, not seeing is also a choice.

The focus of our winter 2024 journal will be: THE SELF-PORTRAIT In its grandest sense, a self-portrait may be presented as a painting, a collage, a poem, an essay, a […]

Pack up your suitcases, we’re going on vacation! Tell us your travel stories, whether across the ocean or in your own city. A woman out in the world is still something revolutionary.

Sing us a song. Cry if you want to. Make it happy or sad, funny or bittersweet. Blow out your candles and, just this once, tell us what you wished for.

Take a moment. Think about your most precious memories, those nostalgic mental Polaroids you carry in your heart for when you need them. I’d wager that a lot of those memories feature laughter.

We're hoping you find a pattern for the perfect poem, story, or essay that you will then share with us.

Spirit: soul, essence. Breath, life. Liveliness, with a shadow of afterlife, of death, of the close unknown.

It’s election season, so this month we want to see stories about the government, its power, and how it can put its thumb on the scale.

In this issue, we want to highlight fiction and poetry inspired by Halloween. Send us your work about monsters, talking pumpkins, becoming best friends with a sleep paralysis demon, your childhood nightmares, or whatever your tell-tale heart desires.

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.

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.