a moth. a hypnotist. a museum on fire, of fire.
From today (April 1st, 2019) until September 1st, 2019, Dink Press will be accepting submissions for the debut issue of PROBLEMATIQUE, set to be published on the fifth anniversary of the company (October 31st, 2019).
We are currently accepting submissions in the form of:
- poetry (3-5 poems per submission)
- fiction (no more than 15 pages)
- nonfiction (no more than 15 pages)
- short plays for stage or screen (no more than 15 pages)
- artworks, digital, analog, collage, sculpture, etc (3-5 pieces per submission)
- interviews (no more than 10 pages)
- reviews (no more than 5 pages)
- announcements concerning upcoming releases for books, films, and music
- and almost anything else.
If you are unsure whether or not we are accepting a certain medium of work, send a query to email@example.com with “General Submission Query” as the subject.
For submissions, please email us at firstname.lastname@example.org using “PROBLEMATIQUE/type of submission/your name” as the subject line (eg. “PROBLEMATIQUE/Poetry/Billy Shakespeare”). For written works, attach the work you are submitting as both a word document and a PDF, and make sure each piece is on a separate page. For visual works, attach all files separately as PNG or JPEG files.
In the body of your email, please include a brief cover letter, your mailing address, and a short 3rd-person bio with all relevant links you wish to be included (website, media for sale, etc).
You should hear back from us within 1-3 months of submitting, and by October 1st, 2019 at the latest. Please feel free to query the status of your submission any time a week after you’ve submitted. Should your work be rejected, please wait until the next submission period to resubmit, unless otherwise instructed by the editor. Failure to follow these guidelines will result in immediate rejection. You will not be subject to the re-submission waiting period if you reformat your submission to match our guidelines.
We ask for first international publishing rights, as your work will appear both online and in print if you are selected. However, we are open to previously published works on a case-by-case basis. We also accept simultaneous submissions, under the agreement that you will withdraw your submission from Dink Press immediately should the work get selected elsewhere.
Payment, at this time, will be a contributor copy, and the ability to purchase further copies at cost to print/ship. This is subject to change if Dink Press can secure the funds to pay contributors in cash.
Authors and artists previously associated with Dink Press will be prioritized for the debut of PROBLEMATIQUE, and most works submitted by past authors and artists will be immediately accepted.
Dink Press Online:
Website coming soon.
There is a crack in everything/That’s how the light gets in- Leonard Cohen
a single leaf will fall
in each room of your house,
far from the frosted windows,
but close to you, all the same.
the taste is that of
orange moonlight and
youthful circus songs,
-i remember, too often,
the taste of sour bedsheets
and forgotten france.
mathematics spill onto the table
that was once reserved for
geography; paying no attention,
we count the leaves with our toes
and wash the clothes that
smell of the old carolina sunlight.
forever, the cigarette pretending to
be a lover on the beach,
the rain trying on discount suits
before an elaborate mirror,
our faces painted,just like before,
and I remember the water and the
other places the poets refused to walk-
paper turning the headboards into
mist and my grandfather’s face
arguing with the door, tempted, but
not afraid in the sand,
here we are once again, my love, with
a kiss in the downpour and a
thousand words parked on the sides
of streets we have yet to see,
quiet, the songs smelling like memory,
turning roses into dandelions and
back again before someone weeps
and learns about quantum milk and
the dances we’ve never forgotten, the
broom and a happy tear, waiting
for the other side of the morning
to gather its flowers and construct
its pyramids for the goddesses and the saints,
set to help
she keeps forgetting about
the sphynx that collects
the dust of bones,
the aged man wearing
a schizophrenic crown
of beautiful rust and milk
–my mother, my father,
the growth of hormones
in the water dressed
as molecules, forgetful
in their sundresses,
she, and all others,
forget, with utter
that they speak
the forrest calls my name
but my ears were pigeons
discussing politics and copulation,
wasting time, waiting for the
moon to remember my sanctuary
and where it ended up.
-these walls have dreamed you-
the intense colors of these trees,
these yellows and these greens
that I cannot paint,
raising themselves through the sea,
blinding the quiet man, and
letting us watch in silence,
thinking of frozen bus rides and
June beginning the rest of our lives
“here we stand with the rose bush
behind us, sirens and thorns, and all.”