Submit now to ‘Stories of Love’ app and earn up to $100. Deadline January 31st, 2011

Posted on 08. Dec, 2010 by in Blog, Submissions

We are looking for stories about love.

“Love is misunderstood to be an emotion; actually, it is a state of awareness, a way of being in the world, a way of seeing oneself and others.” – Dr. David Hawkins

Love stories aren’t always predictable. There’s romantic love between a couple, of course, but there are many other types, such as love for a family member or friend, love for a place, an animal, a memory, or an idea.

We’re looking for writing with a beginning, middle and end – fiction, non-fiction, memoir or essay. The ending can be happy in the traditional sense, but it doesn’t have to be, as long as the piece ends well in some way. This might be due to the wisdom that comes with the passing of time, or transcendence of another type.

We look forward to reading your work! Please visit Submissions page for full details.

* Submit to the ‘Stories of Love’ app to be entered in a drawing for an iPad 16GB with Wi-Fi. Winner will be announced by February 17th, 2011.

2 Responses to “Submit now to ‘Stories of Love’ app and earn up to $100. Deadline January 31st, 2011”

  1. Walter Peter 26 January 2011 at 8:04 pm #


    Do you have an e-mail address I may attach my short story of love which I have written on a word program?

    Look forward to receiving a prompt reply as I noted the deadline is soon approaching.



  2. EMMA HOPKINS 27 January 2011 at 2:58 pm #

    Make The Sky Fall Down

    ‘OPDWEI’ Susan breathed in as she said the word taking in the clean scent of her hair, the bedding and the sight of Nathan beside her, clean and topless lying sideways in the ‘human draught excluder’ position facing the small radio that was on the small chest of drawers beside their bed. Susan couldn’t tell if Nathan was listening to the Worldservice voices, following the pattern of speech of the interviewees passionate about being interviewed or if he was mesmerized by the digital text on the LCD screen as it ran from right to left – the text reminder of the station and the programme, silent, mesmerizing to tired enquiring minds.
    Susan reached over Nathan’s upper body and hit the button to turn the radio off, then she pulled Nathan onto his back, his eyes were closed but Susan knew he wasn’t completely out, he would still be able to hear her.
    ‘OPDWEI’ sounds like a perfume or a flower, but written down it looks like it wants to be latin’, she said.
    ‘Six letters for short, we decided it stands for Opening Lines Poem Duet of lovers What to forget Existential me-you, Illustration-animation.’ Nathan replied lazily and sleepily but just as passionate as the Worldservice voices had been.
    If OPDWEI had been painted on his chest, Susan could have made Nathan see where the latin and the religious made their appearance upon their bedtime us-against-the-world tribal Ipad waving expression of “we leave this day together we needed this day together, technology is our altar.” Nathan’s stomach was rising and falling as Susan was seeing his stomach as a cave with obligatory cave markings of letters: OPDWEI with a U and an S after the O, painting over the W to cancel it out would spell OPUS DEI, a religious sect made provocatively known through the movie Da Vinci code. Such belonging didn’t trouble Susan when fiction made that belonging conscious to her. Right now she felt that she was getting drunk on Nathan’s sleepiness, drunk on the comfort of his ‘draught excluder’ reliable human presence, drunk on the cleanliness and consideration of togetherness, Susan was fading into the W of OPDWEI, the What-to-forget category and therefore fading to forget while her memory would be unaffected by the process of sleep.
    The next time Susan thought about OPDWEI and the W category was when she was on the bed doing imperfect sit-ups for light exercise before bed and before Nathan was present to make the bedding their wrapping, a la laid down statues of liberty fused together over the Ipad, reaching over to the radio for a change to create change with information choices and devices. Susan was charged with idealism, she was exercising, that’s what exercise was all about – idealism, change wasn’t enough so she was bringing the whole room and the remaining hours into her energy, now at rest her upper body flat on the bed her legs arched like two halves of an upside down W, any W:as Susan’s heart rate was returning to normal she thought about Nathan who was at his sister’s. He could fall asleep during movies or evening drama programmes but be mesmerized by digital text running right to left across the LCD display of the radio: ‘dissolving stitches’ he had once called this text as he was fading from the light of the LCD display and ‘dissolving stitches’ had been spoken of again to explain OPDWEI.
    Susan got the Ipad out of the drawer, turned it on and brought the OPDWEI file out.
    This was going to be the only way of thinking about the letters and categories of meaning that they had inspired, fused and in her case nearly forgotten.
    My heart keeps bumping into yours
    My heart is a chamber without floors
    Alley-chamber for shoeless, shoutless presence
    Forget about curvy cars, buildings, landmarks, bins, wind, rain, traffic lights, road markings, numbers, money, programmes, owning not owning…
    My heart keeps bumping into yours
    You’re unavoidable like breathing
    Laid out like logs
    You log cabin
    Me alley-chamber
    There was a small illustration following this text – an elongated arch to symbolize the alley-chamber next to thickened lines of a diagonal and horizontal pattern to symbolize a portion of wood of the log cabin that Nathan was, symbolically.
    As the logs were allowed to travel at any angle through and within the alley-chamber they realised their ability to U-turn and this became another illustration – arch and dash, dash, dash – perforated arrows illustrating different depths and distances of the logs as objects going forward into the space of the alley-chamber, possible points in the alley-chamber that looked like stitches around invisible tongues. The final words of OPDWEI were under these tongues.
    Dissolving stitches in space
    Space has never felt pain
    That’s why we can sleep
    Susan was left thinking that their relationship was a mysterious realised and not realised energy in space, but within the light of the white page on the screen, and she wanted the darkness of sleep. No more lonely interpretations of OPDWEI – that was the idealism of OPDWEI.
    When Susan was in half-sleep, light sleep mode later that night she felt the distance of Nathan’s presence when he entered the room deliberately and considerately not turning on the light, continuing to move about from the en-suite to the bedroom wearing less and less clothes, he was his own silent movie, not arty or moody as a silent movie, just beyond the stereotype of noisy urban behaviour. Their apartment was a few floors up and they experienced an urban living situation with little outside noise – not all urban environments were noisy.
    It was one or two nights later when Susan and Nathan got ‘psyched’ by OPDWEI again. ‘Psyched’ because Susan was explaining what OPDWEI had given her,
    ‘It’s a psyche-vaccine against urban mostly non-speaking parts of existence you know bins, rain, traffic lights, road markings, numbers, money….’
    ‘Psyche-vaccine?’ Nathan questioned searching for a reply, ‘It’s the Ipad or what any computer can do, make you believe in words, drawings, for a vision but 3-dimensional or other dimensional existence has no ‘psyche’-depth to stir feeling… and sleep decides nothing, I do, you do or technology does – decides.’
    Nathan was lying sideways facing the radio as he said this and it was as if the radio had been speaking, and Susan didn’t feel to pull Nathan onto his back, her mind felt rolled and rolled in the bedsheets: make the sky fall down I didn’t want to make you feel down she thought, her optimism about a scented series of events belonged to advertisements now.
    Nathan said no more, the stitches of digital text had dissolved and all around them the space that felt no pain was the space that did not pursue non-speaking parts of existence while Susan felt that she had talked Nathan into saying that he wanted ‘time and space’! “Sleep decides nothing” Nathan had said sleepily and it was true that she was deciding to lay awake….fully conscious that through this decision she was appreciating that nights could be seasons long if time and space were working on their nights or sleep could be a shadow of the season OPDWEI where the sky could fall down many, many times.

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