Alexa, play that song that goes, “those black-eyed peas, they tasted alright to me, Earl.”
I like the slow build-up of warmth, he said, the creeping anticipation of the lengthening days and strengthening sun and—
How can you get over the hump, out of the blahs, and onwards toward the finish line? Here are 10 tips to help you survive NaNoWriMo.
I am the slow spurt of water, reluctant, always too hot and always too cold. I am three hairs stuck to the shower wall in different coloured shapes and lengths that are so far from home they’ll never be un-lost.
Even if I could unfold myself,
No amount of pressing could erase
I fear for her and I fear her and I fear what kind of person I’ll become when screams in the night won’t lift me from my chair.
I’m back again with ten more quality literary publications that are based in Canada. Most of these magazines accept submissions from all over the world, but for all my fellow Canadian writers, it’s a little bit special to find a home for your work that is close to home.
In a green and mossy wood, a beam of sunlight lit a clump of ferns.
Perhaps that is just what the increasingly heavy state of the world does to us. It seems an insurmountable challenge to be joyfully creative when there are much weightier issues to be concerned with.
We must evacuate alike; we all will suffer loss, equal now if only in our devastation. Our memories go up in smoke as we flee. What are we running to? There is no future.