Pleiades

  • Pleiades

    Pleiades: Literature in Context features poetry, fiction, essays.

    The Pleiades Book Review (PBR) is a literary supplement to the magazine featuring both essay reviews and shorter reviews of books released primarily by independent publishers.

    POETRY

    Please send 3-5 poems. We are particularly interested in work that embraces risk and is lyrically inventive. We value work that gives voice to a range of lived experiences and employs a mastery of expression. Work of any length will be considered, and we look forward to reading your most polished poems.

    FICTION

    Pleiades is looking for exceptional fiction, with a focus on well-developed characters, memorable language, provocatively-wrought subject matter, and immersive settings. While there are no length requirements, our journal has limited space, and manuscripts over 12,000 words will especially need to impress. Some stories may be considered for our “online exclusives” category. 

    CREATIVE NONFICTION

    While we enjoy essays and nonfiction in all forms, we are particularly interested in creative nonfiction that gazes out at the world rather than into the self. This is to say nothing against memoir, only that our publishing aesthetic leans towards the exterior in order to balance what see as a focus on memoir and interiority in most literary journals. Essays that perform a weave of the personal with an outward gaze are very welcome. Limit creative nonfiction submissions to 6,000 words. 

    BOOK REVIEWS

    The Pleiades Book Review is now published online. We are open for book review submissions year-round. 

    SUBMIT

    OPEN for submissions from December 1-January 1 and June 1-July 1.

  • What am I ready to let go of?

    By Julie Wilder-Sherman

    Well, what am I going to do with all these masks?

    Store-bought.

    Handmade.

    Giants-themed.

    Kitty cats.

    Bejeweled.

    Blue flowers with yellow backgrounds.

    Yellow flowers with blue backgrounds.

    Plain, monochromatic.

    Busy, colorful.

    Cloth mosaic.

    A quilt of masks.

    Wait!

    That’s it.

    A Quilt. Of. Masks.


    Imagine millions of masks sewn together like the AIDS quilt, honoring what we have survived and what we have lost. A memorial, a tribute and dedication to what we have endured.  

    I’m ready to let go of seeing half-faces. Of asking people to repeat themselves. At nodding to those speaking, pretending to understand. At straining to hear the muffled words behind the shield.

    I’m ready to let go of images of cops and robbers. Of old movies with lepers, their faces partially covered. Of images of Isis terrorists with covered faces holding rifles over captives kneeling in front of them. 

    I’m ready to let go of the anger.

    The anger.

    The anger.

    He did this to our nation. You know who I mean, and I won’t say his name. He prolonged it due to his stupidity and ignorance and narcissism and . . .

    But.

    Back to the masks.

    I’m ready to let go and make peace with the memory of the masks. 

    I’ll bundle them up, put them in a bag and wait. 

    Someone will have the fortitude and talent to weave these cloths together and create something beautiful and meaningful out of something so horrific and ugly.

    San Francisco native Julie Wilder- Sherman is a long-time resident of Petaluma, California. She began reading books at an early age, encouraged by her mother, who would allow her to take books to bed when she was as young as two-years- old. Julie would “read” them until she was ready to go to sleep. To this day, Julie reads every night before turning out the lights.

  • Post-Pandemic Songs and Second Chances

    By Deb Fenwick

    After fifteen months, it’s time to soar. A hundred, a thousand, millions of voices are calling, inviting us to share in a common song. There’s a brilliant bright light and an invitation to hope after all the darkness—to hope and to imagine possibilities. It’s a resonant call to lift off and soar. And it originates from that other place. 

    It’s a place of community where we remember our interconnectedness. It’s a place where there’s an agreement to work together to make something that transcends what one individual, no matter how magnificent, can do on their own. It’s a place where you work toward something with others, and it takes on its own magic. You can see it in a choir’s chorus or a road crew building a bridge. It’s there as an emergency room team saves a life, and as food pantry volunteers pack boxes. It’s that place where energy is transferred and transmuted as it moves from one heart to another. It’s a place where there’s enough joy to lift a spirit, raise a roof, and change the vibration of the planet, all at once. 

    This new phase can be our song. It’s a second chance. After all the darkness of a global pandemic we squint, almost in disbelief, as we lift our faces toward the light. Yes, we’ve made it. Even if we stumbled through losses no one could predict. Even if, some days, we felt like giving up as we struggled with shades drawn. Now, we can choose to work together to lift ourselves and others higher. Because we’ve traveled through dark times, we reflect and remember. We honor those who didn’t make it by vowing to love more, forgive fully and listen deeply. All we have to do is look and listen because there’s harmony present when we look to the light and listen to the music. Thank goodness for every second chance and every song that makes a heart soar. We’ve made it.

    Writing inspired after listening to “Baba Yetu” sung in Swahili by the Stellenbosch University Choir.

    Deb Fenwick is a Chicago-born writer who currently lives in Oak Park, Illinois. After spending nearly thirty years working as an arts educator, school program specialist, youth advocate, and public school administrator, she now finds herself with ample time to read books by her heroes and write every story that was patiently waiting to be told. When she’s not traveling with her heartthrob of a husband or dreaming up wildly impractical adventures with her intrepid, college-age daughter, you’ll find her out in the garden getting muddy with two little pups.   

  • What calls to you? Prompt #582

    It feels to me like we’re coming down from a precipice, a surreal 15 months.

    As we enter this new phase, what calls to you?

    What are you ready to let go of?

    How can you release or lighten the load you carry?

    Prompt inspired from “Where Do You Hang Your Hammock?” by Bella Mahaya Carter.

  • Vigil

    By Kathy Guthormsen

    Vigil

    I hold vigil by the campfire

    Watching dry logs send sparks dancing into the twilight, the west coast version of fireflies

    My prayers winging their way to you

    No more hot tubs under palm trees

    No more drinks with paper umbrellas

    These are distant memories wrapped in protective quilts

    I ask the fire to transform me into smoke that drifts upward

    Tendrils reaching, searching for you

    Forever just out of reach

    I had to let your body go

    But I hold your essence in my still beating heart where I will keep you safe and warm

    As long as I am here

    “Vigil” was created using Prompt #580 on The Write Spot Blog.

    Kathy Guthormsen

    Growing up in Skagit Valley, Washington with its verdant farmland gave Kathy an appreciation for the promise and beauty of nature’s bounty. The Cascade and Olympic mountain ranges and old growth forests offered the magic of things unseen and fostered her fertile imagination. Kathy’s work has been published in The Write Spot: Memories, The Write Spot: Possibilities, The Write Spot: Writing as a Path to Healing, and The Write Spot: Musings and Ravings from a Pandemic Year. All The Write Spot anthologies are available at Amazon.

    Her Halloween story, “Run,” was published in the Petaluma Argus Courier in October 2020.

    When she isn’t writing, Kathy volunteers at the Bird Rescue Center in Santa Rosa, California, working with and presenting resident raptors as part of their education and outreach program. Walking around with a hawk or an owl on her fist is one of her favorite pastimes.

    Kathy lives in northern California with her husband, one psychotic cat, a small flock of demanding chickens, and a pond full of peaceful koi. She maintains a blog, Kathy G Space, where she occasionally posts essays, short stories, and fairy tales.

  • Pilgrimage Magazine

    Pilgrimage Magazine, founded in 1976, is published twice a year and is based in Pueblo, Colorado. The magazine is dedicated to exploring story, spirit, witness, and place.

    Artist/Writer Guidelines

    Pilgrimage welcomes previously unpublished creative nonfiction, fiction, translation, and poetry year-round via Submittable during our open calls. We also feature one visual artist per issue, with full color artwork on the covers and black and white artwork in the interior. Send what you think might fit, regardless of whether or not it matches an upcoming themed issue.

  • If you could … Prompt #581

    If you could change some things in your history, what would you change?

  • Morning Sign

    By Camille Sherman

    I glided a knife through an avocado this morning and thought, if I open this avocado and it turns out to be perfect, it’s going to be a great day. I opened my little fortune to see the happiest unblemished green smiling up at me. I ate in front of a vase of peony tulips that have opened so wide they look like lotus flowers, weighty enough to bend the top of the pond, but not enough to break it. I consider the crumbs, dust, and flower petals faintly mapping my floor and relish the open day ahead with which to sweep and wash. A fresh to do list will be poured with a second cup of coffee and the prophecy of my lovely day will continue to unfold its sweet pink petals.

    Camille Sherman is a professional opera singer from the Bay Area. She trained at The Boston Conservatory and the San Francisco Conservatory of music, and served as an Artist in Residence at Pensacola Opera and Portland Opera. She currently lives in Portland, where she continues to sing and develop artistic projects with local artists.

  • Use these words . . . Prompt #580

    Use all of these words or some of these words in a freewrite:

    Hot tub, paper umbrella, palm tree, camp or camping, vigil, convertible, transformation, fire.

    Inspired by “The Oasis This Time, Living and Dying with Water in the West,” by Rebecca Lawton, a fluvial geologist.

  • Surrender to Creativity

    The Heart of Writing by Suzanne Murray, available at Amazon
     
    Guest Blogger Suzanne Murray encourages creativity by surrendering.  

    SURRENDER IS CRITICAL TO CREATIVITY

    We can’t force creativity. We know this intuitively. If we told a painter that we wanted a masterpiece by five o’clock tomorrow, they would look at us like we were crazy; that we clearly didn’t understand what being creative was all about.

    An important part of being creative is learning to surrender to the flow of the universe, allowing something greater than our everyday self to move through us. It’s not something we can figure out with our linear mind. Of course, if we want to paint we need to learn how to work with our chosen medium and studying the work of the masters can help.

    If we want to write it’s really valuable to read widely and deeply, to show up daily to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and perhaps take a workshop on the form we want to work with. Yet at the heart of being creative is letting go and allowing the ideas, the inspiration to move through us. This is where practice comes in.

    As Flannery O’Connor said of her writing experience, “I show up at my office everyday between 8 am and noon. I’m not sure that anything is going to happen but I want to be there if it does.”
    I recently met a young man in the park who had a set of watercolors laid out on a table and quickly produced a couple of small paintings that were quite lovely. We spoke of creativity and how so many people think you either have it or you don’t.

    “Yeah,” he said, “really it’s a muscle, you’ve got to use.”

    He went on to say “No matter how lousy I feel, if I do even a couple of little paintings I instantly feel better.”

    I feel the same way about writing, even if it’s just a page of free writing where I let the words flow out of the pen. Being creative feels good and lightens our mood because we become more present to the moment, quiet our chattering minds, and allow for the awareness of our heart and knowing to do the work.

    In the surrender we find ourselves in an expanded state of consciousness where we can do things we didn’t think we could. In whatever way creativity calls to you, make a habit of showing up to play with it. Let your self be guided by what excites you. Surrender to what brings you alive.

    Sending you blessings and the wish for creative flow, Suzanne.

    Suzanne Murray is a Creativity Coach, Life Coach, Writing Coach, and EFT practitioner.   She blogs at Creativity Goes Wild.