The Women Who Submit members included in this post published their work in amazing places during April of 2026. Three of our committed members heard about their publication opportunity through WWS programming and/or another member.
I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available), along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety. Please take some time to celebrate yourself and your wonderful accomplishments. Thank you and happy submitting!
Congratulations to Jasmine Vallejo-Love for her publication of “I Was Taught To Be Afraid Of Men Who Look Like You” in Quibble Lit. She also had “My Response When the Instructor Prompted Us to Craft a Poem About Flowers at a Time Like This” picked up by The Pinch Journal. See excerpt of the former below:
Fierce-faced, tall, sturdy, white, bearded, in camo.
I was taught to be scared of men with profiles like yours.
Country-bred, trained in combat, knows the kill points.
But you defied every stereotype: warm not angry,
funny not sarcastic, hug-fueled not trigger happy,
with a deep bellowed laugh that shimmers with joy,
not the ominous cackles that make me want to Get Out.
Kudos to Christine Heriat whose fiction piece “Fluidity of Illusion” was featured in SPANK the CARP.
“A Hot Buttered Houdini,” said the woman who stood opposite Matilda. “TikTok was right; this place is fire. Love the cash-only, retro vibe.”
The woman must’ve been twenty-one, but she looked twelve, and like she’d just rolled out of bed, with hair in open rebellion against hairbrush and conditioner. Matilda, onetime mistress of teased bangs, never imagined she’d catch herself judging the young.
But a grand reopening for a fifty-year-old magic-themed bar was indulgent, gimmicky, like her new Potions, which were classic cocktails renamed, such as the whisky sour masquerading as a Sour Magician or a daiquiri as a Rummy Rabbit. If this reinvention spared The Magic Carpet from becoming yet another sanitized chain outlet, as so many other local institutions had, it would be worth repurposing tradition.
Matilda scanned the crowd. The only regular was Patrick, sitting far from his usual spot, the type of man who was overlooked until displaced.
“I’m too old to knock elbows with postmodern irony,” Patrick explained. He angled his head towards the crowd, where hipster mustaches dominated.
“You’re not old, just well salted.”
Shoutout to Sharon Langley whose poem “Blue Bottles in the Window” has been published with Golden Foothills Press.
Congratulations to Gayle Nicholls-Ali whose article “Nurturing creativity and emotional intelligence: social-emotional learning and peer-to-peer feedback in the arts classroom” was featured in Arts Education Policy Review.
Kudos to Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo whose craft chapbook An Interview With Fear was published with Sundress Publications’ Craft Chap Series.
In September 2017, I spoke to ghosts. Big, old ghosts. White supremacy ghosts. Confederate soldier ghosts. The ghosts of racism that haunt many of us on a daily basis while others say that we’re seeing things, or no such thing exists.
In September 2017, Colin Kaepernick was still playing for the 49ers and taking a knee each Sunday. Trump had so much to say about this. Trump always has plenty to say. He’s also like a ghost that rattles the pipes in the night and never gives it a rest. He’d make the walls bleed if it meant we’d pack our things and run out the violent house, exclaiming, “We’re never coming back!”
In September 2017, I was tasked with facing my fears. Big, old fears. White supremacy fears that looked like red caps and the words “Make America Great Again.”
Shoutout to Ryane Nicole Granados whose creative nonfiction piece “Flammable” appeared in Torch Magazine.
I don’t believe in New Year’s Resolutions, but I do like the feeling of being able to start again. A new calendar year counts by increments of one, similar to the box breathing method my therapist claims will help manage my anxiety. Four structured rhythmic counts, four seasons, four chances to get it right. Inhaling for four, holding for four, exhaling for four, and holding for four again.
It’s winter and I’m in the holding stage. Holding all the weight from a heavy year. The problem is, I’m not a weightlifter. My strength has always been in my legs. I’m a runner. I used to be exceptionally fast, but these last few years have caught up with me. I can no longer outrun the anxiety, so winter becomes my new favorite season. The season for rest and reflection. The time to pause and hold tight because at midnight, you get to burn it all down.
Congratulations to Ann Tweedy whose three poems “Fat,” Untitled, and “Undammed River” were featured in Voices & Visions Fine Arts Journal Spring 2026 Issue. See excerpt of the former below:
Fat I need the fat I gave
to liposuction,
transplanted
so my breast might look
full again.
My body is crying for it now
sheets of bruises where
fat was sucked through cannulas.
I walk or sit and immediately
begin to wince.
Kudos to Elizabeth Galoozis whose poem “the island” appeared in Issue 78 of Hayden’s Ferry Review.
Shoutout to Michelle Smith who published three poems this month: “Awesome and Anew” in Spring Broken; “Flopping for the Fix” in Don Kingfisher Campbell’s Four Feathers Press; and “Calamity” in LA Arts News’ April Poets Place. Excerpt of the latter available below:
Hot weather
Heat Wave
High gas prices
I don’t own a car
but the cost is clear
as in cutting onions slices
Both bring a sting
to my eyes and pocketbook
*Feature image credit to Margaret Gallagher*