The Women Who Submit members included in this post published their work in amazing places during September of 2026. Two 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 Dahlia Aguilar who published “On This Planet or Any Other” in Angel City Press’ Sixteenth Issue.
I found our reflection today, two alien beings walking a proud love up the hills of Tepoztlán
I want to name them us, and specify myself, what with the generational nature of things
how do you know they aren’t ancestors or someone we could be in the future
Aditi said the future is now only unevenly distributed she was quoting someone else
I can imagine by now fireworks have opened a portal behind the mountains
where we could boulder, burrough, arrive sweaty breathless and insisting we hold hands
Kudos to Audrey Shipp whose book review “Groundbreaking: My Unmapped Path as an Academic, Mother, and Gardener by Clare Cooper Marcus” appeared in hippocampus magazine.
Clare Cooper Marcus is five years old in 1940 when Nazi Germany initiates the Blitz and begins targeting bombs on her birth city of London, England. The war propels her father to abandon his job at Rothschild Bank, volunteer for the army, and leave his wife, young Clare, and her brother behind. The banker Rothschild, in turn, invites mom and the kids and other families to live on his Ascott estate in Buckinghamshire, outside central London.
Shoutout to Barbara Berg whose poem “Atoms carved in wood and polished to a shine” was featured in Rogue Agent.
Something I’ve started, but you can tell the hands are reaching out, a muted gesture.
When I learned to crawl, a wooden gate barred me from building blocks I wanted to grasp so desperately.
I see the bones of a child—protruding—not quite the right word, since they’re bound by the skin.
Congratulations to Lituo Huang whose poem “My Neighbor, Who Has a Mail-Order Bride” was reprinted in All Across the Middle: A Zine Celebrating the Creative Works of Asian Americans Raised in the Midwest. She also published fiction piece “On the B-Line” in People We Meet on the Bus Volume 2.
Kudos to Joyce Loh whose creative nonfiction piece “The Coronation” was featured in The Pear Periodical.
Huge shoutout to Ann Tweedy whose chapbook Wind Through a Beak-Drilled Branch was selected as the winner of the 2026 South Dakota State Poetry Society’s annual chapbook contest.
Congratulations to Elizabeth Galoozis who published the poem “Summer Solstice with Cell Service Outage” in Paradox.
The day is so long.
How will we
endure the hours?
How will we send messages,
look up
how long it takes
for figs to ripen?
Tonight, I’ll dream
of dangling at the top
of a wheel,
a long way down.
A long way to sunset,
signal of the soundless dark.
Kudos to Maria Caponi whose poem “Walking Paris Is a Long Sentence” was featured in The Ekphrastic Review.
Today I was walking – no it was yesterday or maybe was last year – when I crossed the city south to north, east to west, every day, I mean I wandered, my pace unhurried as I took pictures of people, buildings, cars, and mostly evrrything on my way while I asked myself why I do that, why I walk so much, why do I watch so much, stare at every passerby and it was somewhere while I ambled between one block and the next that it struck me how we like to live in villages within the city life, an observation I came upon when I passed a crowd of women clad in bright orange, intense yellows and green flowered and flowing garbs, their heads covered, pushing strollers while speaking in loud voices, a language that I could hear well but couldn’t understand, a patois perhaps from another land
Shoutout to M.J. Hong whose fiction piece “Cuts and Wounds” appeared in Brilliant Flash Fiction.
I work at a 24-hour copy center, intending it only as temporary gig in a string of part-time jobs after art school. But here I am, five years later, still showing customers how to use the self-service copiers, still moving stacks of paper from one place to another, collating, stapling, and binding, and getting a paper cut if I’m not careful. That’s the worst. The papercuts. I can almost do my job in my sleep if it weren’t for the throbbing cuts.
*Feature image credit to Margaret Gallagher*