Time After Time: An Interview with Wendy J. Fox by Jen Michalski

I am perennially interested in how people approach and manage their own lives.

Poetry: Tahoe of the Mind by Sam Kerbel The gauze of interplay leaves out time For mutually assured destruction What it is, may be a riddle, Or a secret known to less than few

Poetry: Tahoe of the Mind by Sam Kerbel

The gauze of interplay leaves out time For mutually assured destruction What it is, may be a riddle, Or a secret known to less than few

Creative Nonfiction: Pregnant With War by Yuliia Verba (translated by Oleksandr Fraze-Frazenko) Emigration for a refugee woman is like carrying the child of a rapist. The horror didn’t end. It keeps living inside you month after month. It eats you from within, turns over, and you’re tied to it by the umbilical cord.

Creative Nonfiction: Pregnant With War by Yuliia Verba (translated by Oleksandr Fraze-Frazenko)

Emigration for a refugee woman is like carrying the child of a rapist. The horror didn’t end. It keeps living inside you month after month. It eats you from within, turns over, and you’re tied to it by…

Fiction: County Lane Road by Mario Senzale Three pills left. Tyrell spread them across the table like dice that might roll different if he counted them again.

Fiction: County Lane Road by Mario Senzale

Three pills left. Tyrell spread them across the table like dice that might roll different if he counted them again.

This is Hardcore: An Interview with Linda Michel-Cassidy by Swetha Amit A lot of work goes into writing short-form fiction, much of which is unseen by the end. But it’s there.

This is Hardcore: An Interview with Linda Michel-Cassidy by Swetha Amit

A lot of work goes into writing short-form fiction, much of which is unseen by the end. But it’s there.

Poetry: Gratitude by Elizabeth Koster Thank you for stalking me. For terrorizing, for the rise in my heartbeat, the rush of my blood.

Poetry: Gratitude by Elizabeth Koster

Thank you for stalking me. For terrorizing, for the rise in my heartbeat, the rush of my blood.

Creative Nonfiction: Five Years, and Counting by Sarai Nichole Genes don’t die. They carry memory—grief, too. Passed down like blue eyes or bad knees.

Creative Nonfiction: Five Years, and Counting by Sarai Nichole

Genes don’t die. They carry memory—grief, too. Passed down like blue eyes or bad knees.

Fiction: We Pretend by Andrea Bishop At your house, there’s commotion and mess and fruit loops. The TV’s always on. Your family’s blended and two sets of rules means no rules at all.

Fiction: We Pretend by Andrea Bishop

At your house, there’s commotion and mess and fruit loops. The TV’s always on. Your family’s blended and two sets of rules means no rules at all.

Sleight of Hand: An Interview with Ruth Knafo Setton by Curtis Smith Magicians and crime writers do the same job.

Sleight of Hand: An Interview with Ruth Knafo Setton by Curtis Smith

Magicians and crime writers do the same job.

Poetry: Respite Walk with my Husband at Mer Bleu Bog by Nancy Huggett We falter along this perilous boardwalk through a winter bog of sparse tamarack and spindled birch.

Poetry: Respite Walk with my Husband at Mer Bleu Bog by Nancy Huggett

We falter along this perilous boardwalk through a winter bog of sparse tamarack and spindled birch.

Creative Nonfiction: How to Put Away Laundry with OCD by Brandy E. Wyant Note the shirt that fit you well. Convince yourself that you may never find it again.

Creative Nonfiction: How to Put Away Laundry with OCD by Brandy E. Wyant

Note the shirt that fit you well. Convince yourself that you may never find it again.

Submissions Open We are reading all genres through April 15th. Send us your best!

Submissions Open

We are reading all genres through April 15th. Send us your best!

EXCERPT: The Young Woman Writer Supports Her Writing Habit, Circa 1970s: a micro-memoir by Patricia Henley Once I did that.

EXCERPT: The Young Woman Writer Supports Her Writing Habit, Circa 1970s: a micro-memoir by Patricia Henley

Once I did that.

Poetry: This Architectural Rendering by Ed Brickell was never going to happen, bold late night in a near-deserted office: cantilevered balconies

Poetry: This Architectural Rendering by Ed Brickell

was never going to happen, bold late night in a near-deserted office: cantilevered balconies

Creative Nonfiction: Last Night at the Airport, a Stranger Asked if I Had a Cigarette by Melissent Zumwalt Did I look like a smoker? Or could it be, somehow, that stranger had X-ray vision? Perhaps he could see straight through my chest cavity into my lungs—which had been blackened in childhood, subjected to decades of my father’s secondhand smoke...

Creative Nonfiction: Last Night at the Airport, a Stranger Asked if I Had a Cigarette by Melissent Zumwalt

Did I look like a smoker? Or could it be, somehow, that stranger had X-ray vision? Perhaps he could see straight through my chest cavity into my lungs—which had been blackened in childhood,…

Revision: A Literary Remodeling by Olga Katsovskiy Revision is not the same as editing. That’s not to say every finished work needs to be gutted to the studs, but we must be willing to look at our own work objectively for it to be good.

Revision: A Literary Remodeling by Olga Katsovskiy

Revision is not the same as editing. That’s not to say every finished work needs to be gutted to the studs, but we must be willing to look at our own work objectively for it to be good.

Revenge of the Nerds: An Interview with Finnian Burnett by John Brantingham When we dig deeply into the things we care about, we often uncover questions about identity, belonging, love, fear — the big human stuff.

Revenge of the Nerds: An Interview with Finnian Burnett by John Brantingham

When we dig deeply into the things we care about, we often uncover questions about identity, belonging, love, fear — the big human stuff.

Poetry: Boundaries by J-T Kelly Your ability to say, “I am lonely,” when you are lonely, as if you were always at the well.

Poetry: Boundaries by J-T Kelly

Your ability to say, “I am lonely,” when you are lonely, as if you were always at the well.

Creative Nonfiction: Cutting Down the Walnut Tree by Basira Harpster It took me years to see what was right in front of me.

Creative Nonfiction: Cutting Down the Walnut Tree by Basira Harpster

It took me years to see what was right in front of me.

Flash Fiction: Old Enough to Know by Christina Tudor "You're gonna be such a great mom someday," Aunt Janie says while I clean up after dinner. A spray bottle in one hand and a rag in the other. I trace circles across the mahogany dining table that get wider and wider.

Flash Fiction: Old Enough to Know by Christina Tudor

"You're gonna be such a great mom someday," Aunt Janie says while I clean up after dinner. A spray bottle in one hand and a rag in the other. I trace circles across the mahogany dining table that get wider and wider.

Blended & Beyond: Validations by Jade McGregor   His birthweight; the pattern of the stars in the sky; his hometown; the total value of his baseball card collection...

Blended & Beyond: Validations by Jade McGregor  

His birthweight; the pattern of the stars in the sky; his hometown; the total value of his baseball card collection...

Poetry: We huddle here by Marge Piercy The sky is a grey lid without cloud or sun. Light rises from the snow covering all.

Poetry: We huddle here by Marge Piercy

The sky is a grey lid without cloud or sun. Light rises from the snow covering all.

Creative Nonfiction: Is Divorce Mexican? by Dana Maya I packed Julie’s question in my backpack, carried it on the school bus. At home, I held it in my fist while I watched the Little Rascals on TV and ate Doritos mindlessly with orange-dusted fingers.

Creative Nonfiction: Is Divorce Mexican? by Dana Maya

I packed Julie’s question in my backpack, carried it on the school bus. At home, I held it in my fist while I watched the Little Rascals on TV and ate Doritos mindlessly with orange-dusted fingers.

Flash Fiction: Ghost Baby by Katherine Schmidt Tom nestles Ghost Baby in the crook of his arm and hunches over its tiny form as if he can protect it from the flying pans, cups, and cutlery, even though Ghost Baby probably wouldn’t die, while my soon-to-be-ex-husband could leave this world if a well-placed fork were to stab him in his carotid.

Flash Fiction: Ghost Baby by Katherine Schmidt

Tom nestles Ghost Baby in the crook of his arm and hunches over its tiny form as if he can protect it from the flying pans, cups, and cutlery, even though Ghost Baby probably wouldn’t die, while my soon-to-be-ex-husband could leave this world if a…

Poetry: Maya by Aaron Lelito When I dwell in cessation, is there a brick wall or breakthrough—

Poetry: Maya by Aaron Lelito

When I dwell in cessation, is there a brick wall or breakthrough—

Creative Nonfiction: | | by Caitlin Lee-Hendricks You have never seen a playground before, yet you make my body yours

Creative Nonfiction: | | by Caitlin Lee-Hendricks

You have never seen a playground before, yet you make my body yours

Submissions Open We are reading all genres through March 15th. Send us your best!

Submissions Open

We are reading all genres through March 15th. Send us your best!

Poetry: Poison Games by Colleen S. Harris Chimpanzees are known to raid stocks of palm wine brewed by villagers,

Poetry: Poison Games by Colleen S. Harris

Chimpanzees are known to raid stocks of palm wine brewed by villagers,

Creative Nonfiction: The Opposite of Loneliness by Sarah Davidson I never want whatever this feeling is—the opposite of loneliness—to end.

Creative Nonfiction: The Opposite of Loneliness by Sarah Davidson

I never want whatever this feeling is—the opposite of loneliness—to end.

Poetry: Meeting in the Candle Light by Khayelihle Benghu Twilight is not the end here. It is the beginning

Poetry: Meeting in the Candle Light by Khayelihle Benghu

Twilight is not the end here. It is the beginning