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#writing submissions
burningvelvet · 20 days
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I JUST FOUND OUT ONE OF MY PLAYS IS GOING TO BE PRODUCED AGAIN! I just sent my response. It's a short comedy that was rejected once before; I was told that call had hundreds of submissions so my odds were low, & was encouraged to let them resubmit it to their next call which would have fewer entries due to having more niche criteria — but which niche criteria my work and I met.
It's been months since then, so I didn't think it'd get in. This is a small company I now have a longish association with so I shouldn't be that surprised but I am because I had kind of forgotten about it... which proves that submitting one's work shouldn't be as daunting as it is; afterwards, it's out of your hands, so you may as well forget about it. If you're accepted it's a pleasant surprise, and if you're rejected it's simply forgettable. I don't remember how many times I've had work rejected in various mediums — I rarely submit, so not that much — it's probably somewhat 50/50 rejection/acceptance. But that's just so; it's a coin flip, and nothing personal.
Every writer I've talked to has expressed the observation that making decent work is only half the struggle of achieving recognition; the other half is a willingness to play the numbers game. I would add like many others before me that these odds are often determined by one's social positioning, to the detriment of most of us who didn't win the birth lottery. But nonetheless, as a writer seeking recognition you have to play the monotonous numbers game — to simply keep writing — and simply keep submitting — and simply keep waiting — and writing in the waiting. The process actually isn't simple at all, but the idea of it really is.
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femsinisms · 1 year
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Submissions are Open!
Theme: "Deconstructing the Objectification of Women's Bodies: Exploring the Harmful Impacts of Consumption from a Radical Feminist Lens"
Women's bodies have been consumed and objectified in various forms throughout history, from the use of women's bodies in advertising to the depiction of female bodies in art. This consumption has been normalized in our society and is often seen as harmless or even empowering. However, from a radical feminist perspective, the consumption of women's bodies perpetuates harmful stereotypes and reinforces gender inequality. For our first magazine we ask for essays, articles, reviews, and creative pieces that explore the ways in which women's bodies are consumed, the harm it causes, and why it's crucial to challenge and resist this phenomenon from a radical feminist perspective.
Submissions Open 5/5/2023 (May 5th 2023) and will be accepted on a rolling basis until 9/2/2023 (September 2nd, 2023) 
Emails, Pen names, and other identifying information will not be kept on file after the review and acceptance period is over. 
Submit Here
For each artwork or illustration, please include a 25-to-50-word image description.
All images should have an image quality of at least 300 DPI
Use double quotation marks for quotations. Use single quotation marks for technical or specialized terms when first introduced, quotations within quotations, and for titles of articles, essays, chapters, poems, songs, etc.
No bibliography is needed.
DO NOT put Pen Name or other identifying information on written submissions. 
Keep Written submissions between 3-5 pages (single spaced) or under 10 pages (double spaced)
Citations in Footnotes
For web pages and articles:
First Name Last Name, ‘Title of item,’ Website Name, Full Date of Publication, URL.
For books:
First Name Last Name, Title of Item (Place of Publication: Publisher, Date), Page Number(s).
For journal articles:
First Name Last Name, ‘Title of Item,’ Journal Title, Volume.Issue Number, Date, Page Number(s).
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honeyhl · 1 year
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im creating a zine w/ my friend and we need poetry, photography, prose, and really any other submissions if anyone is interested in getting some work published in a digital publication!
the theme is accidents, mistakes and apologies, so anything u think that could fit under that theme!
you can check out the website here to submit and also submit via our instagram page!
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literary-dandy · 6 months
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PAID COMIC WORK:
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CALLING WRITERS, ARTISTS, CREATORS, ETC.
Transphoria: A Trans and Non-Binary Comic Anthology is opening submissions for creators to share stories about their relationships to their gender identities in this anthology all about Trans and Non-binary stories.
Following our previous anthologies "Bi Visibility", "Rainbow Canvas", and "Hairology", Phil Falco and Kat Calamia return for "Transphoria: A Trans and Non-binary Comic Anthology" with Dan Falco joining the editorial team.
Our guidelines and submission form can be found HERE. Email [email protected] and/or [email protected] with any questions.
Submissions due November 22, 2023.
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froggylop · 5 months
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Okay, so-hear me out, I wanna start writing. I love writing. I NEED INSPIRATION.
So :)
My fandoms are in the tags! Im open to writing most ships, if I'm not comfortable/don't want to write it I'll just ignore.
It can also be prompts!it doesn't have to be a fandom!!Just give me something to write Abt and the basics PLEASE 😩use question submission thingy🫶🏻🥺
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fourandmoreeyes · 11 months
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Craving, Starved
My submission for @vinvalenzine; leftover sales are live until the end of the month! Get yours now. You can also read my submission over on AO3.
Vincent knew what he had become when he first awoke on the observation table. He wasn’t a man then, but he could still reason like one. Though he didn’t know the true depth of the violence committed against him at the time, he could still infer the horrible implications of what had been done. Looking at his mismatched hands—one of them bestial through transformation while the other was mottled and permanently changed—he knew that his life had been set on a new course against his will. He had become a walking nightmare. A demand for vengeance welled up inside of him; a blinding obsession for reparations paid in blood suddenly overtook him, and only Hojo’s would wipe the slate clean. He remembered throwing himself against the walls and doors of the research chamber. He attacked with teeth and nails and tail to force his freedom. He dented the steel architecture with a scream. Whenever he punched, electric shocks kept his atrophied muscles alive and responsive.
But outside of his form changing from one monstrous shape to another, nothing changed. No one responded. Hojo’s voice didn’t reach out to taunt him or weigh him like a specimen and determine his worth. Though, Vincent swore he could feel a heavy gaze watching his manic actions. He fought within his confines until he slowly lost himself. The last thing he remembered was a swelling of power, an unfurling of wings, and then—
Nothing.
He had been left alone for who knew how long to bear the consequences of his transformations, of his transgressions, of his sins. The latter, perhaps, weighed the heaviest on his mutated shoulders. He dropped down to his knees and prostrated himself like the sinner he was. He had failed to protect his father, Lucrecia, himself. Even if he were to beg for forgiveness, he knew he didn’t deserve it. There was nowhere for him to go like this, and he didn’t believe that there was anyone left who could, or even would, concretely end his suffering. So, he chose the next best thing: isolation from the world in the very place that had damned him. No one would disturb him. If he truly was alone and forgotten, then that was all the better. He would spend the rest of his ill-begotten days atoning.
He didn’t know that his fate would be sealed within the depths of his sleep the moment that coffin lid slid closed. In the confines of his mind, he battled Galian, Hellmasker, and Death Gigas for control. Their aimless rage and confusion threatened to unmake him down to his very core. His body may have rested, but his very soul fought for its right to exist or at the very least to remain in control. Part of him wanted to concede, but their rage mirrored his own. It was cathartic in some twisted way to be able to let out the full extent of his fury. He was as they were: angry, confused, and tired. So very tired.
In the rarest of moments, among the fighting and the division, Vincent caught wind of new nightmares creeping into the forefront of his psyche. Some were mere blips in the larger chaos; others maintained a form long enough to join the violent foray, but none of them “lived” long enough to become another anchor in his mind. Another burden—another sin to wipe away. Whenever it happened, it was enough for the horror of his reality to settle in with sharp clarity and for him to sink deeper within the hellscape of his mind.
Vincent resurfaced rather abruptly from his purgatory when his rest was interrupted. Voices spoke from outside of his coffin, asking for his aide. He rebuffed them, more than satisfied with his isolation, though the whiplash of hearing other people after so long filled him with a longing so powerful that it was almost painful. They left, and the pain shifted from an “almost” to a cold truth, but he told himself that it was meant to be this way. When they returned again, however, he was speechless, and then he was torn between relief and rebuke. Vincent revealed himself to the group with a flourish. His mannerisms understandably set them on edge, and it was as he wanted, but to his surprise, the adventurers stayed and pled their case.
Both in line with and despite what Vincent’s inner demons wanted, this intrepid group spoke to Vincent’s core desire. They offered him a chance to make amends with his past, but more importantly, they offered a chance for revenge. Hojo’s fate was up to him. If things aligned, then the group would back him up during their overall quest to take care of an arguably more pressing matter. But they would do as much as they could to pave the way for him to at least get close to the scientist. Vincent knew that he could find a way to finesse his way out of this. If he truly wanted to, he could relinquish his will to one of his many demons and fight these people off. He would either succeed and go back to his solitude, or they would kill him. Neither was a terrible prospect in his mind. But he had a medley of reasons for joining, and he didn’t spend years upon years fighting for control to give it all up so impulsively. This was a golden opportunity for him, a more tangible way to properly repent for all of his wrongdoings. If his bullets could put an end to his suffering in one way or another, then he would forgo his exile for a more concrete way to redeem himself.
So, he traveled with them, and thankfully, they wasted no time in their efforts to track down this greater threat. Vincent kept to himself as much as he could and focused on how his body reacted to the unfamiliar stimulus of being out in the world. Every step that brought him closer to his goal blended the hours of the day together; every night he made the mistake of sleeping had the usual antagonistic forces waiting for him. He supposed it would have been too much of a kindness for him to escape the furious melee of his slumber. The ceaseless combat plagued him over those lost decades, and though it made him weary, it served as a reminder of why he was here. The weariness dug into him like a brand, and with it, he trudged onward to his promised redemption.
Outside of combat, Vincent made himself useful by scouting and gathering information. There were aspects of his past that he didn’t find shameful, and he was glad that the more human elements of him could be helpful to the others as well. As time went on, he fed the group little details about himself. He received mixed reactions when he revealed his former position as a Turk, and he preferred that sort of reaction. Vitriol towards his station was as welcomed as it was inconsequential. That wasn’t what he was now; there were so many things he just wasn’t now. 
When the others tried to learn more about how he ended up in that coffin, instinct shouted at him to push them away. Something deep within rose indignantly at the idea of telling more than was strictly necessary. It was such a sudden reaction that he would have had trouble biting it back in time if he wasn’t already so well-versed at fighting such difficulties. He knew that, one day, he would have to reveal his whole truth so that they knew what they were truly going up against, but he had a suspicion that he wasn’t the only one who had a terrible history with Shinra’s infamous Science & Research Division. So, he kept the full breadth of his knowledge to himself and gave what he knew piecemeal to appease both the group and his wary demons.
But he wasn’t the only one who suspected that there was something amiss. Cid, Tifa, and Nanaki were very keen individuals, but of them, Nanaki was the only one who could make the most educated guess. But he never once pressed with questions or assumptions. Though, Nanaki often weighed the man down with meaningful stares, and Vincent could practically taste the inevitable ultimatum on his tongue. He wondered what he would do if he were ousted as a monster or if he was treated as yet another obstacle on their way to global salvation, but an intervention never came. Nanaki never tried to sympathise nor did he go out of his way to avoid Vincent despite what he possibly knew. Vincent kept an eye on the others in case Nanaki’s subterfuge was more subtle, but it seemed as if they were none the wiser. Vincent pretended that everything was the same, and under the guise of trust, he made contingency plans in the back of his mind.
Over time, Vincent had learned to fall into a meditative state instead of sleeping. He even learned to separate himself from the bloodthirsty melee that had ensnared him for so long. Like this, he could watch his demons and the failed mutations brawl in the arena of his mind, and he could only wonder what Hojo saw in him that registered as a “failure”. If the madman could see this, if he knew about the creatures that sometimes sparked and took shape in Vincent’s blood, what would he think? What would he say?
It was a dangerous curiosity, and that was difficult to ignore. Vincent found that thought coming to life again when they killed one of Hojo’s experiments at yet another hidden laboratory. I triumphed over this beast Hojo made. What would he think? What would he say? Vincent felt himself get riled up, his demons began to rise with his ire, and to distract himself, he broke away from the group to go scout ahead. Yuffie tagged along to his dismay, but she went on her own way when she found something else that caught her interest.
Vincent deviated from his initial path as well and wandered into one of the labs. He took his time as he walked among the terminals. The group had redirected power as they made their way through the facility, so the technology in this department stuttered and whined to half-life. Most of the computers simply didn’t work anymore while a handful beckoned him like a siren song to come uncover their secrets. Vincent looked around him and marveled at the hundreds of thousands of hours of research that had been abandoned and left to rot. 
He reached out and ran a gloved hand over a keyboard. An accidental press caused the monitor to flicker to life. Vertical chromatic lines framed the right side of the screen, but other than that, it still seemed to be in working order. Vincent leaned over and poked through the menus until he managed to get past the basic security. Apparently, Shinra hadn’t changed much in his slumber—a blessing and a curse, he supposed. There was no point in celebrating just yet.
The files themselves weren’t interesting at first blush, but Vincent had never been a man for shallow interests. He dug further. Whenever he found obstacles, he paced around the room, searching for ways to exploit the system until he broke through to the most confidential files. Dozens and dozens of reports about Shinra’s experiments unfurled before him. He found a database with their sister locations, some of which were still active while the majority were shut down. He discovered files on the facilities’ subjects and read through them with great deliberation.
For the first time in a long time, Vincent was silent within his own mind. He clicked through each file with unwavering focus, his eyes unblinking and posture rigid. Even his demons seemed to drink in each meticulously noted, brutal detail. When a quiet rage made Vincent’s fingers tremble, he knew that, this time, it came from himself.
It was hard to say whether it was masochism or desperation or a need for vindication that made him look into Nibelheim, but when he found a project log that matched his description, he snapped. The project name was ambiguous, but the details were unmistakable. It only took a spark of anger to consume him in the festering heat of his own hatred. A ruinous growl left him as he smashed through the computers; his warpath of destruction was almost enough to wipe away what he had seen.
     “Vincent?”
At the call of his name, at the sound of Yuffie’s voice, Vincent was rendered immobile. He had forgotten himself and where he was. He gave into his primal rage and revealed a truth he had tried to keep hidden for as long as he could. Vincent spun away from the door and hunched over to hide himself. He looked down at his trembling hands, one permanently changed and the other briefly altered in his fury, before curling them into fists.
     “I’m sorry,” was all he said. The words felt strange through a mouth full of so many teeth.
Yuffie called out to him, but he beat a hasty retreat through one of the other doors. He wasn’t sure how much she had seen, but it was too much for his liking. Nanaki suspecting was one thing, but Yuffie knowing was another. He had done well enough for himself so far in feeding the other truths on his own terms, but this threatened to unmake all of his hard work. If Yuffie told the others, the control would be wrested from his hands, and then…
And then…
This was the price to pay for his own carelessness. In truth, he didn’t want to rock the boat too much because it felt nice, for a short while, to be seen as a man and not as a monster merely masquerading as one. He had planned to reveal himself when they were at the edge of the world and standing face-to-face with their destiny, but now, that could all be taken away, the control he fought for coldly and utterly wrested from his hands.
But there was still a way to come out on top… If they met their ends here, they would just be another tragic story left. No one would know the truth about their goals, about him , about— Vincent shook himself before the sinister thought could take hold and dashed off into the night, putting more distance between himself and the others. It was an ugly thought—fitting, he supposed—but it was proof that he shouldn’t get attached.
He wasn’t a man; he wasn’t a companion or someone they should trust. They found him in a coffin, and he rose as a beast, a tool, a hired hand, and nothing more. If there was any truth that would keep the others safe, it was this—and he would be wise to never forget it.
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theminisonproject · 10 months
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We are entering the LAST MONTH to send in your submissions for the third Mythological Minison issue! Our inboxes are SO ready for this!!! 
Submit here: https://theminisonproject.com/zinesubmissions 
#theminisonzine #submissionsopen #mythology
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sfsucw · 11 months
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The Schiff Awards Are Back
The Cincinnati Review is accepting entries for the 2023 Robert and Adele Schiff Awards from now through July 15th. We'll choose one poem, one story, and one piece of literary nonfiction for publication in our 2024 prize issue, and the three winners will each receive $1,000. The entry fee of $20 includes a yearlong subscription*, and all entries will be considered for publication, not just the winners. For each entry, send up to 8 pages of poetry, 40 pages of a single double-spaced piece of fiction, or 20 pages of a single double-spaced piece of literary nonfiction. Please submit entries through our online submission manager here, but not without reading the complete contest guidelines first.
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whimsyqueen · 2 years
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Hey for any of my short fiction writing friends, here’s an AWESOME thread of who’s accepting submissions coming up these next couple of weeks if you wanna try to get published and paid!!
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Welcome to 2023! It's a new year, and with it comes a new edition of Quiet Writers. The aim of the Quiet Writers projects is to help new and less-known writers get their work into the world. Submissions for our March release are now open until mid-February. The theme for this edition is "hope". As always, the theme is open to interpretation, use it in whatever way you see fit. Feel free to shoot me any further questions. Further information regarding this can be found on Wordpress (as linked) or Twitter (quietwriters)
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junesprout · 4 months
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I recently started writing little love letters over on my website all about beauty found in the world, daily artist life, and what it means to be a human.
you can find the first one here:
no.1
and the most recent one here:
no.9
I’m also open to submissions! you can check out the guidelines if that’s something that floats your boat.
looking forward to hearing from you!
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author-mandi-bean · 8 months
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It's Tough Times for Writers
And there’s proof. I’ve been receiving rejection after rejection after rejection from literary agents. It’s been tough; it’s been a litany of defeats without even the smallest victory. I’ve been open about my journey via my blog and other social media platforms, so a lot of my friends and colleagues know what I’m going through, and all of them are so supportive. One such friend, a writer named…
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lumberjanes-fanzine · 9 months
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Creator Signups are OPEN for the 10th Anniversary Lumberjanes Fanzine!
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rice-crackerz · 1 year
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Just accidentally submitted a piece to a journal without a content warning 😭😭
I'm sorry little magazine, I did not mean to 😔✊
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lvgaudet · 1 year
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Just Because It Trends, Does Not It An Author Make.
Just Because It Trends, Does Not It An Author Make. #amwriting #author
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room. It’s new, it’s big, it stinks, and it’s taking up way too much space in this cramped area. Heck, everyone is over-talking about it these days. If you haven’t seen any blogs, news, articles, social media posts, chats, ads, or heard anyone talking about AI writing, then you must be hiding out in a very out-of-the-way writing retreat with no contact with…
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theminisonproject · 10 months
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Volume three is ready for your myths! 
Submit here: https://theminisonproject.com/zinesubmissions 
#mythology #theminisonzine #TheMinisonProject
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