Archive for the ‘Submissions’ Category

Letter from a Friend of Fine Lines

Sunday, December 18th, 2011

The attached letter from a new writer to Fine Lines (Shawnelle Alley, Fremont, NE) arrived just in time for the holidays. I could not have wished for a better present. Her wonderful expression of what a new writer feels like to be published is the reason we have continued to develop Fine Lines and reach out to “young writers of all ages” these past twenty years.

Dear David Martin,

I understand that I am now published twice by you; once online and once in print! Amazing!! Perhaps I am in shock, I don’t know if I should laugh, or cry, or both.

(more…)

Posted in Editors, Read the Journal, Submissions, Submit to Fine Lines | Comments Closed

Strange Addiction by Grace Magisana

Monday, November 7th, 2011

Strange Addiction

Grace Magisana

I wondered why I had suddenly gotten the urge to rush outside and stuff butternut squash in my ears and up my nose. I wondered why I had an hour before run outside and stuffed peas in my pants. I wondered where the can was. I had just gone to the bathroom and discovered peas in my underwear. I knew then that my craving had taken over.

I am a vegetable overeater! I sighed. I went back to my room and flicked on the light. I gasped!

The room was a disaster area! Broccoli was on my pillow. A bag of frozen lima beans was strewn on my lampshade. Carrots spelled “VEGGIEZ” on my keyboard. Corn was smeared on my window. I remembered opening a bottle of ranch dressing and glugging it down. Then, I painted my name on the walls with tomatoes.

I slapped my forehead. I had thrown myself a veggie party! I slumped into a chair. CRUNCH!! I got up. I just sat on a clump of zucchini.

It was time for an appointment with Dr. Turnipheart. The wimp. (more…)

Posted in Essays, Read the Journal, Submissions | Comments Closed

“Thank you Fine Lines!” An open letter

Wednesday, May 25th, 2011

Dear Fine Lines:

I would love to share information regarding Fine Lines with anyone and everyone who is interested. Let me tell you my story of the first time I was published in this publication.

I was divorced, alone, sad, and at the Southpointe Mall in Lincoln, Nebraska, shopping for a new shower curtain at Bed Bath and Beyond. It was rainy; the selection of shower curtains was overwhelming, and I really didn’t care anyway. So I went to Barnes and Noble and got a cup of coffee. I walked over to the magazine section, and Fine Lines was sitting there on the shelf, with my name (Dorothy Apley) on the front cover, listed with the other writers whose works were included in that issue.
(more…)

Posted in Read the Journal, Submissions | Comments Closed

Words

Sunday, March 20th, 2011

Words

Christine Janak

A violent hurricane of words
Shook the house.

They seeped through the cracks in the ceiling
And crawled under the doors.

They slithered up the staircase
And bled through the walls.

Thousands of fire-red ants
Seared pinholes into my flesh.

Words were thrown
Like crumpled tissues into a waste-bin.

I sat on my bedroom floor
With my knees crushed against my chest

As truth gobbled me up like a Sunday feast.

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Posted in Poetry, Read the Journal, Submissions | Comments Closed

Going Home

Sunday, March 20th, 2011

Going Home

Allison Keeton Fisher

It’s a small town, the center of which is situated just about three miles south of Interstate 64 in eastern Kentucky. The connecting road between the town and the Interstate is a four-lane highway dotted with businesses and homes built on and into the hills that border the road. Close to the Interstate, nestled on a hill at the edge of the forest, is a funeral home that transports the deceased through town and all over the countryside to small family cemeteries.

On a recent trip home, my mother and I were driving north on this connecting highway toward the Interstate, when I noticed that all the cars in front of me were pulling off to the side of the road and stopping. I slowed down, too, simply because I didn’t know what was going on. Then, around the bend, I saw what was happening. There was a hearse leading a long line of cars toward town. I pulled over, like everyone else, and noticed that everything around us had come to a halt as well. In a parking lot across the road, some high school kids were raising money at a car wash. They stopped their laughing and sloshing around and stood still, some with hands folded in front, some with their heads down. (more…)

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Posted in Essays, Read the Journal, Submissions | Comments Closed

Write

Tuesday, January 11th, 2011

Write

Mary Anne Radmacher

Write to make
sense of life experiences.
Write to learn
as much as you can
from all the challenges and the joys.
Write because words and ideas are fascinating.
Write because exploring concepts is play.
Write to synthesize these explorations
and make them practical.
Write to become the best version of yourself.
In the process of seeking empowerment . . .
empower others,
write to inspire,
motivate, comfort,
facilitate, discover,
communicate.
In this scratching,
this making marks,
encourage others
to make their own mark.

Posted in Poetry, Read the Journal, Submissions | Comments Closed

Writers and Other Liars

Monday, October 25th, 2010

Writers and Other Liars

Deb Carpenter-Nolting

I was five, and I knew how to write.

I stood in the living room, fondling two new red pencils.

“There should be one pencil for everyone. Did you take an extra pencil?” my mother called from the kitchen.

“No, I just have one,” I answered, as I quickly hid the other one behind my back.

When she entered the living room, I extended the one pencil for her inspection, while keeping the other behind my back.

“Are you lying to me?”

“No, Mommy.”

“I know you are lying,” she said in a hurt voice, taking the culprit hand from its hiding. The evidence was right there, a second red pencil clutched in my naughty writer’s hand. Her voice sounded different. I caught the disappointment in it.

The pencil wasn’t an expensive item. It wasn’t so important that I had taken an extra one. The issue was I had knowingly lied. I felt so guilty that I disappointed my mom, the truest and best person I’d ever known.

I’ve tried very hard to never lie again, and for the most part I’ve succeeded, but there’s just something about a shiny new red pencil that still beckons me to lick the lead and be wicked.

Posted in Essays, Read the Journal, Submissions | Comments Closed

Style Guide

Saturday, September 19th, 2009

Welcome!

Welcome to the Fine Lines style guide website. We have created this site as an introduction to Fine Lines for members, writers, and our editorial staff. The guidelines explain how writers should prepare their works for submission to this creative writing publication. This section also includes basic copy editing procedures for the most frequent errors we see in submissions to our journal. (more…)

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