"This work is unlike any other, in its range of rich, conjuring imagery and its dexterity, its smart voice. Carroll-Hackett doesn’t spare us—but doesn’t save us—she draws a blueprint of power and class with her unflinching pivot: matter-of-fact and tender." —Jan Beatty

Friday Call for Submissions Love!

Synaesthesia

Theme

ATLAS

DEADLINE: 30 July 2015

noun | a book of maps or charts

Tell us where you’re going. Tell us about the bridge above the river that looks like milk. Point out your favourite spot. Map out your route. Show us how it happened, where he was, where he is now. Circle the place you first kissed, the place you kissed him last. Show us where you left him, do it in red. Take us to Tibet. Get us lost. Take us home again. Draw us a map of your hand. The muscles and tendons. Where she kissed it, where she pinched it, scratched it, slapped it, held it. Send us tickets and postcards. Think about structure, style. Break conventions: give us stories and poems told through graphs, tables, charts and maps.

Be part of our collection about maps and the roads that fall between them. Be part of the atlas that makes us human, or not.

About

Editors are mothers. They cradle words in their ink-stained hands and rock them gently until they hiccup and burp and sleep without fidgeting. Sometimes they have to be strict, and tell words that they can’t play with that other word because that other word isn’t good for them. Sometimes they have to say no because that’s how stories get better. But mostly they love words and just want to see them grow into great, great stories that others point at and go, heck, I wish I’d written that.

So we’ve decided to write about what we like and what we don’t like in our submissions. And if you don’t like what we do like, then that’s fine. Maybe it’s just not meant to be. It’s important to remember that your submission absolutely doesn’t have to be perfect. We’re not expecting Shakespeare. If you bring us something that makes us coo we’ll tell you it makes us coo, and we’ll work with you to turn that extra o into an r so it makes us go corr.


We like poetry that howls from the rooftops. We don’t like poetry that shouts into a microphone. One commands, the other imposes rudely. We like modest poetry, poetry that tells us, actually, it’s pretty terrifying being human but y’know what? Here’s a puddle. Look at its rainbow.


We’re not particularly drawn to poetry that laments, or mourns, or talks about how much it misses its boyfriend. We don’t like poetry that feels sorry for itself.


We like poetry that talks to us like we’re humans, sometimes even friends, and poetry that goes bungee jumping and, if it’s not feeling up to it, puts its feet up and flicks through crappy TV channels. Not because it can’t be bothered, but because it’s honest. It doesn’t try hard. 


We like short stories that come to bed with you and kiss you somewhere you didn’t know you liked. Stories that tease and don’t necessarily give us what we want. If there’s a word in your story that you have to think twice about, get rid of it. Get in and get out. We don’t like stodgy prose or long-winded narratives.

 

We like short stories that say hey, babe, take a walk on the wide side. We like stories that pad barefoot into the kitchen on a summer night, spilling secrets. Short stories that are the beginnings of a knock knock joke but not the end. We don’t like sob stories, but we do like stories that whisper, I had to write this.

Guidelines

We like short stories that come to bed with you and kiss you somewhere you didn’t know you liked. Stories that pad barefoot into the kitchen on a summer night, spilling secrets. We like short stories that say hey, babe, take a walk on the wide side.

We like poems that jump into puddles. Poems about the ordinary: these yellow wellington boots, your hand-me-down prom dress. We like poems that have been gunned down to the ground and come back fighting.

We like short stories that are the beginnings of a knock knock joke but not the end. Stories that hum, some that blister. We don’t like sob stories, but we do like stories that whisper, I had to write this.

We are currently open for submissions for our ATLAS issue (publishing late summer/autumn). We will announce our last theme of the year very soon. Please read our submission guidelines before submitting (seriously, please do it, it will help you), and remember the following:

  • Your submission must correspond to the current theme in some way, however loosely you interpret it
  • Simultaneous submissions are totally fine and heartily encouraged, but if your submission is accepted elsewhere please inform us asap
  • We do not accept previously published submissions. We obtain First Serial Rights, which means we have the rights to publish your work for the first time. More info on our guidelines page
  • It’s completely free to submit to us and read our magazine
  • As part of the magazine’s ethos, we blend art and writing – please be aware that your work may be accompanied with another form of art
  • Response time: approx 1-4 months.

Okay, your turn now. Blow our senses

Guidelines and Submit Here: https://synaesthesia.submittable.com/submit

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