Calls For Submissions

See below for all current open calls for submissions at Entropy and Enclave.

Click here for General Submission Guidelines.

And also check out our recent post: What Entropy Editors Want to Publish in 2019.



An invitation for writing and personal stories relating to birds. Stories involving loss, being lost, stories involving birds, changing relationships to writing and being written, to writing practice, to self, to the sky. Submissions of personal and poetic essays related to the birds. Essays on birds, a bird, a particular species of bird, all birds, your bird.

Please email submissions directly to:

See the series so far: The Birds.


WOVEN is an Entropy series and dedicated safe space for essays by persons who engage with #MeToo, sexual assault and harassment, and #DomesticViolence, as well as their intersections with mental illness, substance addiction, and legal failures and remedies. We believe you. If selected for the series, we want to provide the editorial and human support such that our conversation continues long after the stories and names have changed. You can view submission guidelines for WOVEN here.  Submit to Sylvia Chan at 

Reread the archives, always. 


As time goes on, it is becoming increasingly apparent that the Covid-19 pandemic isn’t going away anytime soon. It has, and will continue, to change our day-to-day lives in extraordinary, immeasurable ways. Certainly, Covid-19 has already impacted our personal culinary habits and has caused us to take a closer look at our food systems.

From the abundance of crackly sourdough boules on Instagram to the further exposure of meat-packing plants’ unsustainable practices; from restaurant closures to the transformation of grocery shopping; from the absence of friends around our dinner tables to the way we relate to food, our bodies, and ourselves while social distancing—coronavirus has fundamentally shifted the culinary landscape.

For this new, ongoing series at Entropy Food, we invite all forms—essays, poems, comics, cookbook reviews, etc.—that address the topic of food, eating, and/or the body amid the pandemic. We would simply like to provide a space for writers and artists to explore this topic, however feels most nourishing. To submit, please email your work to and Recipes and photographs welcome.


If only health and wellness were as easy as the magazines, blogs, and Instagram accounts would have us believe. I’m interested in work that celebrates physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual fitness, but also digs into the contradictions and complexities inherent in such ideas. I want to read pieces that critique wellness culture and challenge popular narratives of what it means to be in good health. I’m particularly intrigued by examinations of the ways modern health and wellness are talked and written about.
Submit to 


The food section at Entropy wants to hear about your greatest cooking victories and most epic failures. What was the first dish you ever cooked? How did (or didn’t) you learn to cook? Write about a dish from your childhood you’ve since poorly attempted or serendipitously recreated in adulthood. Write about a food you used to hate that you now love (or vice versa). Write about your love for the kitchen, or your desire to burn it down. Recipes and photographs encouraged.

Please email submissions directly to:


BLACK CACKLE: A FEATURE OF VERY DARK HUMOR seeks sleekly, darkly funny works where the sad and the hilarious converge.

Please send your very dark and funny short stories under 3,000 words / poems of any length / hybrids to



Music can hold enormous power in memories and experiences, transporting us instantly to an age, location, or person. What sonic joys, mysteries, disbelief, and clarity have you experienced? Identify songs of influence in your life and explore them like variations on a theme, melding syntax and song structure, recalling the seriousness or levity that accompanies. Whether it’s an account of when a specific song first entered your life, the process of learning to play a song, teaching someone a song, experiencing the same song in different places as it weaves through your life, unbelievable radio timing, sharing songs with those in need, tracking the passing down of songs, creative song analysis etc, I am interested in those ineffable moments.

And so I’m welcoming submissions of your own variations on a theme, as drawn from your life’s soundtrack. Please email submissions to and keep an eye out for others’ Variations.



If writing defies “common sense,” if it seems to go against traditional modes of thought, norms, and histories, the idea of that common sense no longer makes sense, or might make sense if we’re allowed to reinvent ourselves. That’s what I’m looking at with the literacy narrative, the coming-into-language story. I want to hear yours: when you first “clicked” with a language,  whatever it is; why you questioned the modes of your Englishes; how you wrote “poetry,” but looked at it again and called it “lyric essay.” I want to see your literacy narrative in its scholarly, creative, and hybrid forms. Send your literacy narratives to Sylvia Chan at Stay tuned for more literacy narratives from yours truly and others.

Foster Care

Abandonment and neglect. Substance abuse. Alcoholism. Suicide ideation. These are subjects which are prominent in child welfare and foster care; on average, foster children remain wards of the state for two years. I asked: Why are these stories uncommon despite its longstanding presence? Why is the adage “education out of the system” the emergent path to adulthood? Why have I not found a safe space for these stories from educators, administrators, foster parents, biological parents, kinship placements, adoptees, and the fostered and unfostered?

There has to be a way to make that happen. That is what I’m looking at for this foster care series. The writings I aim to publish will take a variety of forms, including creative nonfiction, hybrid writing, poetry, fiction, visual and text-based. More importantly, they will come from voices which are undeniably unafraid to speak. If language can do that, I think we can get closer to reinventing our experiences; we’re not so different or alone at the end of the day. Send your writings on foster care to Sylvia Chan: And keep speaking.


Send me your dramadies. Send me your stories filled with levity but centered around a decidedly serious theme. Tell me how humor has helped you heal. Tell me about the inappropriate moment when you laughed at a funeral, or the joke your dad made about gaining supernatural powers from the radiation during his cancer treatment. Bring me the stuff of an episode of an episode of Louie, works in the spirit of David Sedaris writing about his mother’s death. Show me the levity you find in the tears, the moments you laughed until you cried, or cried until you laughed, or laughed and cried in the same breath.

Please email submissions directly to:

See the series so far: Dramedy.


Arts and Culture is everything that you imagine. Have a conversation with a filmmaker or musician. Interview a playwright. Chat with puppet-makers. Critique an exhibit. Discuss the implications of language. Wonder about the body. Wonder about movements, gestures, signs. Meditate on a piece of writing, piece of music, or work of art. Deliberate on architecture–a building, a bridge, a space. Describe a performance. Describe a project. Reflect on a protest. Reflect on a place. Trace a history. Ask those questions.
Submit to 


A feature that looks to shed a light on emerging awesomeness in comics and sequential art, alongside interviews with creators. If you’ve been published before or if you haven’t, if it’s an excerpt from your first graphic novel or an excerpt from your sketchpad, if it’s got panels and drawings and word balloons and we can talk shop about it, then we want to hear from you.

Please email submissions directly to:

See the series so far: The New Comics.