Call For Submission: The Sun Magazine

The Sun is a reader-supported ad-free magazine. They’ve been described in many ways: celebratory, fierce, unflinching, thoughtful, truthful, dark, darkly funny, tender.

Types Of Submissions:

Writing: Writing from The Sun has won the Pushcart Prize and been selected for the Best American Essays and Best American Short Storiesanthologies.

They publish nonfiction, fiction, and poetry. The Sun tend to favor personal writing, but are also looking for provocative pieces on political and cultural issues.

No racial bias. They encourage submissions from writers of color.

The Sun rarely run anything longer than seven thousand words; there’s no minimum length. But they discourage simultaneous submissions.

Writing is a solitary act, but when what you’ve written goes out to our loyal subscribers, it can feel a little less so.

Interview pitches: The Sun publishes interviews with innovative and provocative thinkers. They like interviews that stretch them intellectually yet remain accessible.

They’re always on the lookout for voices not traditionally heard in the mass media and are particularly interested in interviews with women and people of color.

The Sun publish only question-and-answer-style interviews: no profiles.

Transcripts should be at least six thousand words and can be as much as fifteen thousand. In-person interviews are best.

Readers Write: Readers Write asks readers to address subjects on which they’re the only authorities.

Topics are intentionally broad in order to give room for expression. They publish only nonfiction in Readers Write.

Writing style isn’t as important as thoughtfulness and sincerity. There is no word limit, but you are encouraged to familiarize yourself with the section before you submit.

Feel free to submit your writing under “Name Withheld” if it allows you to be more honest.

You can also click HERE suggest a future Readers Write topic.

Photography: They’re interested in black-and-white photographs. Not looking for photojournalism, just unique perspectives on the world around you— especially human interactions.

To send in your Poems, Fiction or Photography, Click HERE

Comments

Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies" "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat" After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?" "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...

The Curve And Colors Of Hate | Uwen Precious Ogban

The Curve And Colors Of Hate When the evening news had broken Father spoke with a tone of pain and anger “Nigeria is a whore,” And my mother agreed Painting sensual scenes giving you pleasure of what looks like a garden that hides a landmine. And how trying to walk through it becomes slippery A journey asking for crimson libations, full of fractures and ‘Had I knowns’ while you looked over the fence for greener pastures Her sighs spoke of a menu full of thrills but you are served double horrors She, Nigeria, abhors you later on when it relinquishes you of value, Truly, she is an old ‘Whore’ My Father picked it from there, “Nigeria gets hard as rock” Wants of men despised Sullen moods recorded in poems, speeches, and events, snubbed For as long as it makes sultry suplex’s on a comfortable ring – Nigeria is satisfied “Son, Nigeria is you, your mum and I” Guilty to a fault Pained by happenings that come with fire and brimstone Let loose from bellies that should hold patriotis...

Featured Poem: Slavery In Africa - by Uwen Precious Ogban

SLAVERY IN AFRICA We believe they rowed their boats of tumults into our region; carrying with them bags of conundrums, while we drummed our drums and jollied to their, intonation. The way they dressed, the way they addressed us Made us mime to the harmony and yearns in their speeches of a dawn to civility and hale: that was a start of the course of slavery in Africa. We still thought they were our brothers, because our chiefs rolled floridly with their proposals While we were mockingly disposed of In the field, or given to bespoken tailors as apprehends; as helps; in servitude; ‘posed to carry out orders as the come in flicks. We became babies in our own motherland we became cartage of their foreign plans. We cleared our huts so that they could find comfy and build on our strengths draining our tears as they wryly whipped us on our backs. Their wisdom their prowess They used to molest And we gazed in cluelessness Cause we still didn’t see it as slavery then – but as pain, so enjoyable....

Jaachi Writes

Search This Blog