Call for Submissions: Eurynome

Eurynome is now open for submissions!  Check them out below!

 

Eurynome publishes speculative fiction on a rolling basis. To ensure that everyone is on the same page, the following is a broad definition that Eurynome embraces:

Speculative fiction is an umbrella term encompassing the more fantastical fiction genres, specifically science fiction, fantasy, horror fiction, weird fiction, supernatural fiction, superhero fiction, utopian and dystopian fiction, apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic fiction, and alternate history in literature.

Clearly, speculative fiction includes a wide array of genres with varying gradients of fantasy and realism. We invite stories that make the reader think, not cringe. Please send your excessively gory or sexually explicit stories to a different magazine. However, we do like humor.

Eurynome gives special attention to pieces that retell old stories or myths for a modern audience, though a well-written fiction piece outside of those measures can find a home here. Please keep in mind that Eurynome is a digital publication, and therefore your submitted work should be convenient for on-screen reading. Don’t let unwieldy paragraphs damage the flow of your story.

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We do not accept simultaneous submissions or reprints, and please only submit one story at a time. If your finished story can already be found online (even on your personal blog) then unfortunately we do not wish to publish it. At this time, we are unable to monetarily compensate authors, but we hope to change that in the future.

If your story is accepted, congratulations! We will let you know when to expect your piece online. If we offer to publish your piece, Eurynome claims first world electronic rights. This means we reserve the right to be the first place to feature the story online, though you may submit it for subsequent reprints to other digital and physical publications that wish to accept it. You also retain your audio rights to the story.

If you receive a rejection, it may (but not always) include feedback on how the piece fell short. In some cases, we may invite you to resubmit after evaluating our feedback. Otherwise, however, please do not submit the same story again.

Before your story is published, we reserve the right to make minor (mostly cosmetic) edits. Any large edits will be sent to the author before publication for their feedback.

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FLASH FICTION

Eurynome accepts flash fiction, which is defined as a fiction piece between 500 and 1,000 words.

If you wish to submit a piece to the magazine, please send an e-mail to submissions@euryno.me, and attach a .rtf or .doc file containing your story in manuscript format. For the subject line, write:

[FLASH FICTION SUBMISSION: author name – story title]

In the body of the email, please include a short (2-3 sentences) biography about yourself, including a link to your website and/or your Twitter handle. Please also include an approximate word count, and tell us how you found our journal.

The average response time for flash fiction is under a week, but is usually quicker. If you do not receive a response after one month, please send a follow-up e-mail. Stories are read and responded to in the order they are received.

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SHORT STORIES

A short story is defined as a fiction piece between 1,001 and 7,500 words.

If you wish to submit a piece to the magazine, please send an e-mail to submissions@euryno.me, and attach a .rtf or .doc file containing your story in manuscript format. For the subject line, write:

[SHORT STORY SUBMISSION: author name – story title]

In the body of the email, please include a short (2-3 sentences) biography about yourself, including a link to your website and/or your Twitter handle. Please also include an approximate word count, and tell us how you found our journal.

The average response time for short stories is about a week, but is usually quicker. If you do not receive a response after one month, please send a follow-up e-mail. Stories are read and responded to in the order they are received.

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ARTWORK

Eurynome is regularly seeking artwork to complement our story selections. To inquire about providing an illustration for the magazine, please send the art you would like to submit, a short (2-3 sentences) biography, and a link to your portfolio (if applicable) tosubmissions@euryno.me. We accept artists of all skill levels, experience, and styles. At this time, we are unable to monetarily compensate artists. We do not commission artists, but instead accept their previously-created artwork. Artists retain their rights to submitted artwork.

Eschewing Genre in Creative Nonfiction: Richard K. Nelson’s Make Prayers to the Raven

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Make Prayers to the Raven: A Koyukon View of the Northern Forest by Richard K. Nelson is a documentation of the plants and animals that frequent the forests of interior Alaska. It’s true that this book is about a place I am currently enthralled with. It’s also true that there’s a soft spot in my heart for any book about plants and wildlife. However, what makes this book really interesting is the ways in which Nelson eschews nonfiction genres to come up with something all his own.

This book could have been a narrative of his experiences living in a Koyukon village in the 1970s. It wasn’t. It doesn’t occur in chronological order and doesn’t have much of a narrative arch. Instead, the book is structured in chapters such as “The Birds” and “Ecological Patterns and Conservation Practices” with subheadings for individual species and phenomena. This sets the tone for the work feeling like a guidebook to the forest.

Instead of listing facts about animals and plants, however, Nelson draws on a multitude of sources in order to give a greater picture of how the Koyukon people view and interact with the world around them. He uses the research of anthropologists who have come before him, anecdotes from his experiences of living in the village, and excerpts from his own journal. The effects of these sources are interesting. What is structured and presented as a catalog of facts about the forest becomes a little less black-and-white. This is apropos given the nature of Koyukon beliefs and knowledge about the forest, which is up for interpretation and change based on personal experience. It is also appropriate given Nelson’s awareness of his own status as an outsider, which makes him wary of speaking for the Koyukon people. By using this variety of resources including his own experiences and journal entries, he can give his readers the same impressions that he had without putting words in other people’s mouths.

Nelson as the writer is interestingly placed in this book. For a book that uses anecdotal evidence and journal entries for much of its information, the narrator is surprisingly absent. This is because all of the personal writing and experience that Nelson uses is always about something other than himself. His journal is only used to further give information and rarely gives his own ideas or thoughts. Nelson very consciously positions himself as an outsider in the village and the culture about which he is writing, and he does a good job of keeping himself an outsider in the book that he writes.

The end result is that this book is not an anthropological study of the Koyukon people, or a wildlife guide to the forest of Interior Alaska, or a narrative about Nelson’s experiences there. Instead, there’s a melding of these possibilities. For me as a writer, it made me think a little more broadly about the ways that I can structure and inform my nonfiction. Nelson shows that the structure, the sources used, and the position of the I do not need to all line up to one traditional standard genre. Instead, using these things in unconventional ways can allow us as writers to come to greater truths than following convention alone.

 

*This post is part of a series on the craft of writing called Reading for Writers.  This series examines a variety of authors to ascertain the choices they’ve made in their writing and the effects of those choices so that we as writers can make better decisions in our own writing.

Call for Submissions: Saw Palm Magazine

SUBMISSION GUIDELINES


Saw Palm is a Florida-themed journal, however we welcome writers and artists from across the country and the globe as long as the work is connected to Florida (via images, people, themes, et cetera). We also welcome creative works from Floridians that are not obviously about someplace else. Please check out past issues, available for download as free PDFs. We publish one issue per year in the spring.

We do not accept work that has been previously published either online or in print. We welcome simultaneous submissions as long as you immediately notify us of acceptance elsewhere. Our general reading period is between July 1st and October 1st, however submissions for Places to Stand in Florida are accepted year-round.

Send only one submission per genre at a time. If you have a pending submission, please wait for a response before submitting again. We make every effort to respond as quickly as possible while giving each submission the time it deserves. Our average response time for is 3-5 months. After 6 months, you’re welcome to follow up with the appropriate editor.

All submissions must be made electronically through our online submissions manager. Please upload prose and poetry files in .doc or .docx formats only. Art, photography, and comics should be uploaded in .jpeg / .jpg format only. Paper submissions sent via snail mail will be recycled unread.

Click here to submit.


POETRY

We accept up to five poems per submission period at a maximum of 10 pages. Combine all poems into one document and include in a single submission.

FICTION

We ask that fiction submissions be no longer than 6000 words. Please send only one story per reading period.

CREATIVE NONFICTION

We ask that submissions of memoir and essays be no longer than 6000 words. Please send only one piece per reading period.

FLASH FICTION & FLASH NONFICTION

We accept up to three works of flash fiction or flash nonfiction (750 words or less) per submission period. Please send all stories or essays in one document.

ART & PHOTOGRAPHY

We accept up to five submissions of art or photography per reading period. Please send files in .jpeg / .jpg format only. You may also include a URL if a portfolio of your work is online.

COMICS

We welcome submissions of graphic fiction and nonfiction of up to seven pages, whether in black & white, greyscale, or full color. Submit in .jpeg / .jpg format only. Keep in mind that the journal’s dimensions are smaller (5″x7″) than the average literary journal and so comics with small panels filled with intricate art are not well-suited.

INTERVIEWS

We are especially interested in interviews of Florida writers and artists, although we’re open to almost any Florida-related subject. Please query us about the interview subject first, via email.

REVIEWS

We are interested in reviews of any Florida-related subject: author, book, film, tourist attraction, CD, website, beach, park, toll roads, snack stands, local landmarks—anything! These reviews will appear on http://www.sawpalm.org. Unlike submissions of creative work, current or recent USF students and faculty are welcome to submit reviews. Size limit: 6000 words. Reviews appear on sawpalm.org.

PLACES TO STAND

Please tell us what it’s like to stand at a specific place in Florida at a specific time of day in 500 words or less. While we enjoy the unusual, locations should be public and accessible (so not your bathroom!) Please include GPS coordinates.

Unlike other categories, current or recent USF students and faculty are welcome to submit pieces for the Places to Stand series.

Poems submitted as part of the Places to Stand series are welcome but should be justified left and otherwise not have complex formatting and spacing. This is due to technical limitations in Google Earth.

Places to Stand appears on sawpalm.org.

Sharing: Natural Disaster by Nika Ann Rasco

Here’s another wordpress find that was just too good not to share, and a perfect Valentine’s Day treat.  It’s written by Nika Ann Rasco, who writes over at Chasing Rabbits.  Make sure you head over and check it out!

 

Natural Disaster

tangled up from the twist
of tornado, all the best
parts of your disaster
rest, stone upon stone.

we curled ourselves into one.
limp bodies piled into hills
of the dead, I couldn’t
unwrap all your thoughts of
me as quickly as you shake
the keys of untuned piano.

your eyes are still watching
for an unnamed god, your chin
held determined to the upcoming
wind. I got you on my back

watching moves and licking lips.
You sing the chimes from too
sore lips, cracked and chapped
my words blown out of portion.

(c) Nika Ann Rasco

Reading for Writers: Eva Saulitis’ into great silence

Toward Larger Truths:

Using Poetry in Creative Nonfiction

“Alaska. As a college student, a dream for me of blue-white tundra, wolves, caribou, moose, indigenous hunters: wilderness. A dream of emptiness, silence” (3).  With this first line in her first chapter of into great silence, Eva Saulitis presents her reader with an idealized, poetic view of the place she is about to bring us.  With these images and sentence fragments, she paints us a lyrical picture of the place we will come to know and study through her.  Though she writes about scientific research and the imminent extinction of a group of transient killer whales, Saulitis uses poetry and poetic language throughout her account to allow her reader to feel her connection to Prince William Sound and to experience that same level of connection and loss.

Throughout into great silence, Saulitis weaves poetry and lyrical language throughout the text.  She begins her book with an epigraph of poetry by Dylan Thomas.  She also begins her prologue with lines of poetry by W.S. Merwin.  With these two epigraphs, Saulitis sets the stage for a book about science which the reader knows will not be a typical research book.  Though into great silence recounts her days as a field biologist studying whales and includes much of her research, she chooses to begin her book and her prologue with poetry.  This shows her reader that she will be narrating this story not only through the lens of a scientist, but also through the lens of a poet.

Saulitis continues to use epigraphs to insert poetry into her narrative throughout the book.  In particular, she uses the epigraphs to frame points of especially poignant emotion. For example, she begins Chapter 18, “Beast and Beauty,” with two lines of poetry by Cyrus Cassells.  This is a small cue to the reader that this chapter will be one of the most evocative in the book.  In this chapter, Eva slowly realizes the true effects of the Valdez oil spill.  As she says, “Every zooming skiff, every blackened beach, every harassment of whales triggered ire, until it seemed the oil was inside me” (92).  She goes on to compare the scene to a “war zone” (92).  This realization that some of the worst fears of the researchers are becoming reality is one of the most emotional moments in the book and Saulitis uses Cassells’ poetry to highlight that.

Saulitis uses a poetic epigraph again to begin the last section of the book, titled, like the book itself, “Into Great Silence.”  On page 179, Saulitis begins Part 4 of her book with a poetic quote from Li-Young Lee.  This section of the book is by far the most emotional.  Saulitis begins to leave her day-to-day accounts of research behind and allows herself to ruminate on the emotions and repercussions connected to the loss that she is witnessing and the grief that she is feeling.  She becomes more introspective and more speculative, trading in scientific research for meditations on death, loss, and ultimately hope.

Saulitis also chooses to begin her second to last chapter with poetry by Peggy Shumaker.  In this chapter, Chapter 47, Saulitis begins to write in present tense.  This is a chapter in which she uses some of the most introspective, reflective language.  It is in this chapter that she revisits her battle with cancer and relates it back to the story of the whales.  She reflects on the process of writing the book.  At the very end of the chapter we see Saulitis as the author who began the book  meeting herself as present author directly and telling us how her views have changed.  Not only does she begin the chapter with poetry, she rewrites the poetry as the title of the chapter.  The poem that she uses ends with the line, “In a language lost to us/god is singing” (239).  She chooses to name this chapter “In a Language Lost to Us, Eyak Is Singing.”  These poetic devices set her reader up for a very poignant ending.

Saulitis does not only use the poetry of others in her account of her whale research and the loss of the pod.  She also brings her own poetry into the retelling.  This happens most often in Saulitis’ use of letters to her parents and her own journal entries from the time.  These things give the reader a penetrating look into the narrator’s relationship with the world around her.  Her letters are often strikingly evocative.  Saulitis makes a real effort to pull those around her into her world.  For example, in her letter to her parents, she writes, “The hemlocks, gray-barked and bearded with lichen, remind me of ancient men in Tai Chi poses.  Gnarled, wind-scoured, half alive, they seem to hold each cry, each gasp of the Sound under oil, under boats, under trash, under storms, like memory given form.  When I lean my body against one, I’m dizzy from their knowledge” (80).  This kind of lyrical language does not just describe the place to the reader, but makes the reader also feel the connection and emotion attached to this place as if we are there with Saulitis and feeling the same sense of connection and attachment.

The emotion and passion with which she writes to her parents also comes through in her journal entries.  Amid a myriad of observations about wildlife, one journal entry muses, “If I sat here all day, what would fill these pages?  Out of nowhere, a helicopter.  Clouds sink and rise, wind rises and stills, the air becomes moister and cooler.  It’s impossible to predict what will happen next” (135).  This kind of imagery and introspection is incredibly effective.  It is clear in both her journal and in many of her correspondences that she is of that place.  There’s an immediacy about those passages that brings the reader into the experience.  In these instances, the reader can feel the place and Saulitis’ connection to it in a very powerful way.  Additionally, the speculation that she engages in here allows the reader to feel the possibility that the place holds.

This kind of lyrical language is juxtaposed with more straightforward accounts of her scientific studies.  She gives not only detached scientific explanations, but also an emotional sense of loss.  This juxtaposition comes to bear on both the factual portions and the poetic portions of Saulitis’ writing.  The lyrical portions are given a sense of authority when they are seen next to the research of a scientist who has been studying the place and the whales for years.  The scientific portions are made much more poignant and the reader connects with them much more when they are placed alongside poetic accounts.  Saulitis gives us not only facts on a page, but these facts are given meaning and weight through her use of poetry and poetic language.  Rather than undermining the validity of the scientific research that Saulitis did, it intensifies it.  The poetry and the science both become more authentic and more true.

Saulitis becomes most lyrical and introspective at the very end of her book.  She begins her last chapter writing:

Fine mist falling, fog down to the decks of boats in the harbor. On the breakwater, shags and herons cluster, hunch-shouldered against gusts.  I see them through the spaces in his ribs.  I stare down into the cradle of his rib cage, basket of bones, hoop of barrel staves, empty frame… I want to crawl inside, huddle at his skull’s base, a dark, secret place, to listen (241).

The strength of this writing is in the way it plays with images and lyricism.  We can feel the sense of longing and loss inherent in the way Saulitis talks about the space between ribs and wanting to crawl inside.  But we can also feel the sense of hope and connection in the resiliency of the hunch-shouldered herons and listening.  This echoes the feelings and imagery that she uses at the very end of the book in which she writes, “That what’s broken can be mended. That what’s shattered can be made whole.  That what’s damaged can be repaired. That the end of the story is ‘and then –‘  And then there was Eyak. Always and forever. Amen” (245).  In this, she closes the book much in the same way she began it, through the lens of a poet, someone who felt on a very special level a connection to a group of whales and a place and wants to bring that connection to the reader.

As writers of nonfiction, we can use these devices in our own writing as well.  Like Saulitis, we can include poetic epigraphs to heighten the poignancy of our nonfiction stories.  We can also use poetic language, such as metaphors, to share not only the factual details of our experiences but also the emotional facets.  We can juxtapose the lyrical, emotional language of our areas of expertise or personal experience to give our readers a fuller, more true picture of the events.  The use of poetic language in nonfiction can serve to enhance the experiences we are sharing with our readers.  Evocative, lyrical language can help take stories off the page and make them more visceral and relatable for our readers.

into great silence is also available on amazon.com.

Writing Roulette Results

 

She came dressed in nothing but the dust from butterfly wings and had dragonflies in her hair.  She shimmered with a silvery arctic sheen that barely covered her skin.  He wondered even if it was her skin.  He’d been in the mental hospital for so long that he wondered if humans had evolved this way, perhaps the climate was changing so much that people on the outside were developing ashen skin, burning in the sun until they came off on your fingers when you touched them.  He wanted her on his fingers like that, burned or not.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said. When she spoke, bumble bees came out of her mouth, whispering against his cheeks and wrapping him in honey.  They rested on his shoulders and chest, pollinating his skin.  He was hooked immediately.

“I’ve been here for years.”  He looked around to see if other people noticed her.  He didn’t trust his own eyes any more.

“You should have come sooner.”

“Why are you here?”

“Don’t you recognize me?” Her hair was white, long, silky strands, stronger than steel and he was caught in it.  Her eyes fluttered.   The bees which swarmed him tugged at something in the back of his mind, but she was too strange.  Her tongue curled and he was sure she was part insect.

Suddenly, her poetry came rushing back to him.

“Callie.”

 

Yesterday I posted a prompt about using various plot generators.  I wanted to share with you a little taste of what I came up with.  This came from one of the 5.1 million plots that Big Huge Thesaurus generated.  It was so inspiring as a prompt that it’s become a much, much larger (and still unfinished!) project.  I’ve shared the beginnings of it with you.  Has anyone else used any of these prompts?  What did you come up with?

Creative Commons love to Mr. Greenjeans on flickr for the amazing artwork.  Thank you!