**Submissions to Hurricane Season are now closed. Please check back soon for a new submissions call for our Spring 2022 general issue.**
Hurricane Season 2021
Call for Submissions
What does it mean for land to disappear?
Hurricane seasons brew each year, encouraged in intensity by continued climate change, and islands and coastal communities are battered by new violence, sea levels rising, disappearing land masses, just as progress is made on healing wounds from the previous year. The fear of islands and coastal communities disappearing is becoming more of a reality, even in the face of Indigenous and Islander resistance. This loss could mean the loss of human lives, cultures, languages, philosophies, economies, and the arts; it also leaves significant and lasting impacts on the people living through it.
For our Fall '21 issue, smoke and mold will center the impending Atlantic and Pacific hurricane seasons, and the persistent erosion of land due to climate change. We welcome submissions of writing and visual art by trans and Two-Spirit authors that showcase the ocean and storms, the aftermath of climate disasters, islands, coastal geographies, and work that speaks to both loss and perseverance.
We want to read stories about water as both a source of life and destruction.
We welcome writing that might not initially make you think about climate justice, like writing or art about the middle passage and enslaved peoples from Africa, and indentured laborers from elsewhere that created island communities and cultures, like those in the Caribbean. We understand that the intersections of race and class make up some of the most important conversations around climate justice. We welcome Indigenous stories regarding the care of the land, and Indigenous resistance to colonial extractive practices. Think, Dark Emu: Black Seeds: Agriculture or Accident by Bruce Pascoe, which examines pre-colonial agriculture, engineering and construction by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples; or “Starshift” by Gabrielle Bellot, in which the author considers her (dis)attachments to her native Dominica as a queer and trans woman in the aftermath of Hurricane Maria.
We’re most interested in writing that is: hybrid, mixed genre, transdisciplinary, elemental, shapeshifting, transitional, embodied, formally innovative, explorative, but we also accept more traditionally narrative work of fiction or nonfiction. We are also excited about visual poetry and prose that interacts with the shifting shapes of islands and water.
Other themes to consider: sea-level rise, erosion, transatlantic migration, diaspora, plantation labor/slavery on islands, post-colonialism, indigenous knowledge/protection/relationship to islands & land, communism, cold-war, water pollution, fishing & food, import/export economies, trash islands, discard studies, and more.
We will not accept work that is culturally appropriative, and ask you to think deeply about whose stories you are trying to tell, and why.
Accepting Submissions May 15 - July 15
To submit, email your work as a .doc or .docx file to . Prose that is 3,000 words or shorter works best for an online format, but we will sometimes publish longer work if it is particularly well suited to an issue or theme.
Please include a brief bio telling us a bit about yourself. This can include prior publications, but this is not required, as we take pride in being a first online publication for many new writers.
We try to respond to all submissions within 2-4 weeks. If it's been longer than 6 weeks since you submitted and we have not responded, please feel free to reach out to us.
All writers published in the journal receive a $50 contributor fee.