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An in-depth review of Jules Archer's short story collection, "Little Feasts."

Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad is a Sydney artist, poet, and improv pianist of Indian heritage. She’s a member of the North Shore Poetry...

Don't know where to submit this week? Here's a list of five magazines taking creative writing submissions right now! 1. The Mark Literary...

The Mark has been partnering with the London Independent Story Prize to showcase the winners of their short story competition. You can...

Iretomiwa Xaron was published in The Mark in January of 2020. They are a non-binary queer writer from Nigeria. They are fascinated with...

This book is a real life account of a drug addict who later would end up in prison. It's a nonfiction book, but it reads like fiction,...

1. The Mourning Bird by Mubanga Kalimamukwento The Mourning Bird is the winner of the Dinaane Debut Fiction Award and hit shelves on June...

Do you want to spend two weeks writing in sunny, warm Athens, Greece? Of course you do! A Poets' Agora is offering its poetry residency...

In a town where there’s rarely a man, woman, boy, or girl without a screenplay in the works – not just people who write professionally,...

The cardboard box sat high on the top shelf of my bedroom closet, shoved behind a mountain of fabric scraps and a snow globe that held a...

A fridge dropped out of the hellish night sky, shattering as it hit the asphalt. Shrapnel rained over us and I instinctively turned away...

How much longer could he continue to brush his teeth at the kitchen sink to avoid the bathroom mirror? The prospect of facing himself...

>> Name? << Will. >> Hello, Will. Would you mind sitting down? The voice is calm. The voice guides me to sit on the couch in front of me....

“That’s the place, over there.” Bachman pointed to an attractive three-storey house situated on the other side of the canal. “Hardly a...

Light. My mother’s voice. Soft. Clear. Singing. Love. Her hands holding me. Rocking. Heartbeat. Love. Rocking. Heartbeat. Love....

“Up there, those things, the no touch things. I want to touch them.” That’s the best translation I can give of the toddler consciousness...

A new lieutenant burst into the arms room, didn’t even greet the armorer, and blew up— Why are these weapons missing? He shot his finger...

It was strange to become obsessed with a noise that no one else heard. It happened gradually, like a child trying to stay upright on...

He landed a good gig. Looking in on people’s homes would keep them in Aspen. The hikers were gone; the skiers yet to descend. Those in...

I’d hear bleating and look out the window and see the old lady who rented out the room milking one of three goats, and this was how I...