Congratulations to all the Women Who Submit who have had work published in March!

From “The Iridescence of Our Sins” by Ashley Perez at Lost Balloon:

The children appear from the edges. Their faces set. Their bodies are covered in iridescent powders that shimmer in hues that could only be seen in dreams. We have been gathered in the square to wait. Our kin have been gathered to watch. The children walk around us in a pack, sniffing, running towards us and back again to their circle. Worn, brown leather pouches hang around their necks, swaying with their movement.

From Lisbeth Coiman‘s “Abundance Guilt” at Nailed:

Along the wide corridors of the wholesale store, I look for the basic ingredient of my favorite dish, Pabellón Criollo. Flank steak is a piece of lean meat that once cooked can be shredded like strands of yarn. The refrigerators burst with a large variety of large meat cuts. My shopping cart bumps into others. The shoppers mutter apologies; try samples of hot tamales, Italian sausage, and Indian curry. Hips of fresh fruits and vegetables seem to smile from across the vast space. It’s almost repugnant to see so much food.

From “Delicious Things” by Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo at Lady/Liberty/Lit:

An afternoon shower
over a mossy green forest
while you are inside safe
sitting by a three-logged fire
that dances to its own crackling music.

From Kate Maruyama‘s “False Spring” at Entropy:

Sasha hates sixth grade. Her walk home across the college campus to her house is the only break she gets, because she also hates her narcissistic, hateful, intellectual snob of a mother. Nerisha hasn’t packed a lunch for her since kindergarten and seems to believe that she will raise herself, clothe herself, bathe herself, get herself through school and homework and will suddenly emerge a person of interest when she’s eighteen and smart enough to talk to.

Congratulations to Kate for the upcoming publication of her story “La Calavera” in Halloween Carnival from Random House.

From Elline Lipkin‘s “Poet Laureate Work: Connecting People to Poetry” at Poets & Writers:

I decided a poetry workshop in February would be just the thing to build community and generate interest in poetry in advance of National Poetry Month and other planned literary events. Who might come in to teach enthusiastic poets who write for the joy of expression, the desire to play with words, and the chance to connect with community, I wondered.

Congratulations to Elline for her acceptance to the California Writing Residency at the Yefe Nof Foundation.

From Laura Warrell’s “Dearly Beloved: A Eulogy for Prince” published in Dearly Beloved: Eulogies For the Ones We Lost at Zoetic Press:

But perhaps, what we have lost more than anything with the passing of Prince, is the presence and possibility of greatness among us. I don’t have many heroes but 2016 took many of them, and though I’ll miss their work, what I’ll miss more is the bright lights that have gone out in our shared sky. Those lights, that when we look up, give us something to admire, to aspire to, to feel connected to and through.

From Carla Sameth‘s “Heartbeat” at Mutha Magazine:

After almost four years of trying to become a mother and three miscarriages, I was pregnant again. I had reached my tenth week—the furthest I’d ever gotten. My husband and I were renting a three-bedroom house that looked over the San Gabriel Mountains in Los Angeles. It was January of 1994.

From “Playground and Politics” by Ryane Nicole Granados at The Nervous Breakdown:

“Nobody would pass me the ball. Even friends who I thought were my friends wouldn’t pass me the ball.” These words from my nine-year-old after another round of recess Darwinism style bounced around in my head like a bright orange basketball stealing my sleep at 2:00 a.m and making me despise a group of four-foot tall 4th graders.

“I blame Trump,” I tell my husband (also at 2:00 a.m.).

From Lisa Cheby‘s “Stepping Out of the Binary” at Entropy:

I am not an avid protester, despite my history as a graduate from a proud hippie-college and my work with the National Organization for Women in my twenties. The t-shirt I was gifted for Christmas that proclaims “Introverts Unite … Separately, In Our Own Homes,” better reflects my style of protest. Nonetheless, I was determined to be at the Women’s March in Los Angeles to stand with other women against a most vilely sexist election that resulted in a self-proclaimed perpetrator of sexual assault and a racist in the White House. My anxiety about marching was evident in my procrastination in creating a poster.

Congratulations to Linda Ravenswood whose one-act play, “Unrepresentable,” was performed at the Eclectic Theatre.

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