We are excited to announce our call for submissions for issue 60.3: MYTH.
“All right,” said Susan. “I’m not stupid. You’re saying humans need… fantasies to make life bearable.”
REALLY? AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO. HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.
“Tooth fairies? Hogfathers? Little—”
YES. AS PRACTICE. YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES.
“So we can believe the big ones?”
YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING.
-Terry Pratchett, Hogfather
Myths are the stories we tell about the world, tell about ourselves, tell about each other. Myths are large enough to hold up the sky, yet small enough to be cradled in a child’s hands. Myths are interlocking circles and endless outward spirals, trees with roots reaching the very heart of the earth. Myths were born in caves, carved into the face of mountains—and now lurk in suburban parking lots, darting away when the lights flicker on. Myths speak in languages we don’t remember yet still understand. Warnings. Celebrations. Promises. Lies. They speak of who we were, who we are, and who we might become—in blooming rings of past, present, and future.
But beyond the great floods, heroes raised by wolves, and laughing tricksters is, apparently, a kernel of truth. Do you know? Would you share? Does it matter?
Send us the narratives that survived, the poems that endure. The words that came before all other words. Send us the stories that make and unmake us over and over and over again.
We are accepting prose (approximately 4,000 words or less), and poetry (up to four poems, to a maximum of six pages). Please submit via Submittable. We pay $30 per printed page of prose, and $40 per printed page of poetry.
For general submissions guidelines and submittable link visit our submissions page here. Please read the guidelines (really!) before submitting.