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 encourage you to imagine as widely as possible, and to write with honesty and abandon. What does ‘liberation’ mean to you? What does it look like? How do we know when we have it? Are we ever truly free?
Do You See Us As Being Instruments Of Unity, Change, Or Citizens Of Action, Fighting For Human And Environmental Rights?
We Could Almost Touch It, aims to amplify the voices of women and delve into the state of women since the 2016 presidential election. Work must cover at least one of the themes: women's rights, losses since the 2016 election, and what will turn things around.
How do we engage in the present while thinking about the future? What is possible, probable, and/or preferable when we think about our world tomorrow?
Just as self implies other, the seen implicates the unseen. Much can be seen and understood, but there is an ever-vanishing horizon, and the other, and the unseen, call into this future.
"Then followed that beautiful season . . . summer . . . Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light, and the landscape lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood."
---Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Don’t sugarcoat it. We want the messy parts of mom life, and the parts you love, too. Or maybe you don’t want to be a mom or aren’t able. We want those stories too. The struggles that have come with it, or the freedom.
Awarded for the best poetic response on the theme of Fear.
Instead of inhaling the refreshing air of Spring, let us take a moment to rebelliously hold our breath, then inhale the sinking feeling in the air. After all, things grow in the dark, too.
Submit one humor poem, up to 250 lines. Serious poems will not be judged.
We are seeking prose and poetry that captures the warmth and nostalgia of fields bathed in amber light, as well as the longing, transience, and beauty that lie beneath their glow.
Up to three previously unpublished poems may be submitted, but they must be LGBTQ+ themed.
Pieces are selected by a blind jury process, led by an editorial student staff.
The saying goes that necessity is the mother of invention, and this month, in honor of Mother’s Day, we want your stories focused on Mama Bears backed into a corner. What will they do to protect their cubs? How do they invent a justification for crossing the uncrossable line? And was it all worth it?
We're looking for pieces exploring conversations we have with ourselves but never fully resolve.
All submissions must have a link to science.
This issue will be an exploration into what education actually means and what alternative philosophies could replace the current, "education is for getting a good job and becoming a productive worker, expanding the economy", to something more holistic, more socially beneficial and more forward thinking.
We want looong poetry. We want to feel the weight and weave of your words. Spin a yarn for us!
For this special issue, we want stories about characters with special collections. Collections that bring joy, sadness, nostalgia, fear.
That take up just an inch of shelf space or are crowding someone out of their home, or their mind.
Chance encounters, brief interactions, and how fleeting moments with strangers can shape our lives.