Wednesday, 23 October 2013

Submissions Open

Submissions Open:

Submissions will be selected for online publication at the discretion of Red Wolf Press.  Decisions to publish online will be informed by the content of the submission (a writer’s qualifications, professional positions held and previous publication history will not factor into the decision).
If your submission is selected for the site, you will receive a response within three weeks of submission.

We want new and exciting stuff!
We want what is burning deep within you...we want the darkest, naughtiest and most disturbing thing you can write...we want horror, hard boiled, speculative fiction...we want it all and we want it now!

Length Guidelines:
Short fiction 1000-3000

Poetry: can be shorter but should be at least 100 words.

For very short styles of poetry, such as haiku, send multiple poems to make at least 100 words.)
No more than 100 lines per poem.
Horror film reviews: 1500-3000 words

Forum letters on writing: 500-1000 words
Articles on Literary Craft 1000-3000
Poetry reviews: 1500-4000 words.
Your Favourites (tell us one of your favourite literary works and why) 300-500 words

Content Guidelines:
The guidelines for content are deliberately broad as Red Wold does not want content to be tailored to guidelines handed down to authors but for authors to submit work which they themself want to write.
Content should have some originality.

Fiction content should be entertaining. Other content should be interesting and useful to people.
Content should NOT primarily be an attempt to comment on abstract ideas of ‘social structure’, ‘cultural conventions’ or ‘imagined collective identity’ so no pretentiousness! No masturbation on the page—except for poetry, because I mean let’s face it....

Content should NOT require elaborate symbolic codes on top of general language and understanding to interpret.

Send submissions to with the type of submission stated in the title of the email.
By submitting you agree that your submission can be displayed on Red Wolf poetry page and may be used on a corresponding community radio station,, Bendigo Australia.
Writers can re-submit work submitted and published on this site for other publications and websites as long as reference is made to this page.

Depictions of Rape, Child Abuse, Violations of Copyright writer--no Zombie Nazis will be tolerated.



Brief Bio.
Publication History.
Website if applicable.


  1. Trust with Caution~

    My words may come off harsh
    But there's a reason behind it
    With harshness comes with reason

    Of having a sharp tongue
    Filled with deadly venom
    To swallow someone whole

    There are times to be serious
    And times to joke around
    And be sweet and kind to all

    But when someone does something
    The sharp flickering tongue comes out
    Like a snake ready and waiting to attack

    Life hands you lemons in huge bags
    To hopefully be used for sweetness
    Of sweet sugary liquid of this life

    The flickering of this serpent's tongue
    Has its reasons for keeping cautious
    And keeping the eyes wide open

    The reasons are too painful to speak of
    When it comes to being used and abused
    In such a manner to bringing only fear

    That can only be seen in these eyes
    That have seen too much already
    At twenty something its life changing

    To go through so much at this age
    And still be standing tall through it all

    To trust with caution...

    ~Jill M. 2009

  2. Throbbing, aching, no strength left, at the point of breaking, this pain forsakes me. Flat, I lay, my consciousness it slowly slips, seeps away. Murmurs, hushed, their tones unerring, messages of bleak despair. Still I lay, my mind not there, it has deserted me, trapped, a slow decay. Encircled, these figures, silhouetted, faces which have washed away. Faceless, these people, a world away. And still I lay, my heart, my mind, my life astray. Engulfed by the blinding lights the figures fade, this light, this light, has it come to guide me away, content to go, and still I lay. I plummet, the light swept away, falling, hopeless, sinking and still, I lay. spiralling, darkness creeping in embracing me, a beeping, beeping, beeping, slowly but surely fleeting as the darkness penetrates my soul, this rasping breath, a tear, a muffled scream, then silence, darkness... nothing more.
    Alone and still I lay, this room, a sombre shade of grey, so clearly different, yet strangely, the same. So alien, so different, this room in a way, wanting to run but my fear drifts away. And still, on the floor of this strange room, I lay. Nothing, no windows, no doors, the silhouetted figures stood over me no more, just these expressionless faces etched into each wall. A sound, breathing, a whisper swirling like air, a single phrase, several letters just lingering there. These words evaporating, as if never there, and the room, again it feel silent, as it had just been. The faces they faded, and the room now the same, except the lingering whisper, which echoed, my name.
    Silent, I lay, a thought on my lips, but unable to say. And in this room, alone, I would stay. And still through it all with my fate all but sealed, no weapon, no thought and no hope I could wield. As again my mind distant, my thoughts in a vice and my spirit torn away, I lay, I lay, and I lay.
    But suddenly, the walls start to change, as they shift, and they crack, my fear kept at bay, as there in the centre, rigid I lay. Distorting, these walls, before me they blur, and by some force to me unbeknownst like paper, they’re torn. The mist it grows thick like haze before dawn. Slowly, softly, the darkness, returned.
    Beep, beep, beep, alone once again through this darkness I surged, in this whirlwind of chaos I feel like I bird, though my wings are of paper, which is shredded and burned. And again I’m thrust into this blinding light my wings now drifting, my body a kite. This rasping breathing, this pain subsides. My heart, mind and body as one they resurge and above me from these all consuming shadows, these faces emerge.
    From this life, almost torn, A phoenix from the ashes now reborn.

    Corey Tibbs 2013