Submissions Notice – January 2019 Issue Forest

Now open

Submissions may be, but are not limited to, writing (essays, short stories, micro stories, poetry—any forms of writing), photography, visual art (digital art included), and music. Submit through email at fingerscommatoes[at]gmail[dot]com. In your email, please include your age, geographical location, what kind of piece you are submitting (writing, photography, art, music, etc.), and, if you wish one to be published, a short biography of 50 words or so. If submitting multiple pieces, please condense them into a zipped (.zip) file with your name included in the file name.

We welcome previously published work. Simultaneous submissions are acceptable but we advise that the artist/author informs us if the submission is accepted or published elsewhere.

There is no strict age limit for submitters. We are a youth journal, and our submitters currently range in age from four to twenty-six years old. As a general guide to what we’re looking for, our previous issues can be found here.

There are no limits as to the length of written submissions; we enjoy flash fiction, short stories, long stories, and poetry, but prose submissions under five thousand words are preferable (though exceptions may be made). Artists/authors may submit up to five pieces each. We encourage variety and international submissions.

Submission themes are not strict and may be interpreted freely. Any inquiries may be emailed directly to us.

About the January 2019 issue:

– Submission period: 29 October 2018 to 07 December 2018

– Theme: Forest

– Artists/authors will be notified from December 2018 to January 2019.

Guest editor

For the first time, fingers comma toes is having a guest editor. Russell Boey, from Christchurch, New Zealand, will be guest editing the January 2019 issue.

About the guest editor:

Russell is a student in his final year of studies at St. Andrew’s College, Christchurch, New Zealand. He has an avid love for science and math, but despite this maintains that he will fulfill his lifelong dream of becoming a struggling author. He has been published in fingers comma toes in the 2016 Issue Rust, as well as New Zealand’s national newspaper The Sunday Star Times for winning their short story competition. He likes stars, quasars, black holes, and all the places in-between. Unlike Lola and Tristan, if he ever leaves dry land again, it will have been far too soon.


Fingers comma Toes Logo Final

August 2018 Issue Wild

Contents:

[Untitled] – Georg Schreiber and Jonathan Plachetka (ages 18 and 17; Igling, Germany)
Wild river – Phoebe James (age 10; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Bells are chiming in the jungle – Sophie Schneideman (age 11; Christchurch, New Zealand)
The Garden in Summer – Nika Fredrickson (age 08; Rarotonga, Cook Islands)
Squishies – Jana Heise (age 13; Annapolis, Maryland, United States)
The Wild Garden – Cara Birch (age 12; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Wild Barrier – Tom Nalder (age 09; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Howl – Srinika Guha (age 08; Auckland, New Zealand)
Wild Moon – Xanthe Pearce (age 11; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Wild West – Adele Sherborne (age 08; Christchurch, New Zealand)
[Untitled] – Jana Heise (age 13; Annapolis, Maryland, United States)
Thunder – Lily O’Halloran (age 08; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Insect City – Pierre Montelle (age 15; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Wild – Khadija Sheikh (age 11; Christchurch, New Zealand)
[Untitled] – Jana Heise (age 13; Annapolis, Maryland, United States)
The Fire That Killed Everything – Greta Jenkins (age 10; Christchurch, New Zealand)
When I Walk into the Jungle – Robbie de Groot-Tsuji (age 10; Christchurch, New Zealand)
[Untitled] – Cosmina Werneke (age 17; Igling, Germany)
Wild – Lizzie Jessep (age 12; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Before the light fades – Sophie Riggall (age 11; Christchurch, New Zealand)

[Untitled] – Georg Schreiber and Jonathan Plachetka

Schlange

Georg Schreiber is eighteen years old, and lives in Igling, Germany. Jonathan Plachetka is seventeen years old, and lives in Igling, Germany.


Wild river – Phoebe James

The angry river charges like a bull
out of a paddock.
It smashes the rocks
as if they were in a boxing match.
It throws itself over the
dam, wanting to be free.
Weeping willow branches
tackle the wild ride,
while they are thrown under
the wild river.

Phoebe James is ten years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Bells are chiming in the jungle – Sophie Schneideman

Danger steaming all around.
King of the forest unawakened.
Not looking up to see the trees.
The outside world hunting our homes.
Me in the last unharmed tree.
I look down on my rested blue-feathered friends,
Looking back on what used to be home.
The memories of macaws soon fading,
Extinction in my eyes.
The wilderness inside me grows,
The axe takes a hit –
No time to spread my wings and fly,
I’m gone in no time.

Sophie Schneideman is eleven years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


The Garden in Summer – Nika Fredrickson

The garden in summer is sweet
Like chocolate
It shines like a diamond in a dream
But when it’s winter
My garden is the opposite
It has tall shadows
And it rains
With the wind blowing hard
Like I am in a forest
Leaves falling from the trees
Then it’s summer again
My garden turns as delightful as before

Nika Fredrickson is eight years old, and lives in Rarotonga, Cook Islands.


Squishies – Jana Heise

20180809_162953

Jana Heise is thirteen years old, and lives in Annapolis, Maryland, United States.


The Wild Garden – Cara Birch

The vine climbs the fence
Each leaf a new hand
Steadying his wavy stem
As the butterfly swoops over the dandelion
Her antennae brush the stamens
Contagious fairies
Pirouette down
Plant their feet into the group
Land in first position
For a creature so minuscule
She is so daring
For wings so delicate
She is so strong

Cara Birch is twelve years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Wild Barrier – Tom Nalder

The wild barrier
is a wall
that only opens
for the wild ones.
To be wild is to be fearless
brave
determined.
An unknown man
was determined.
A bear was fearless
and brave.
Together they walked
to the wild barrier,
to the golden city door.
The unknown man
looked determined.
The bear looked fearless and brave.
The wall cracked open
and the man and the bear
looked happy.

Tom Nalder is nine years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Howl – Srinika Guha

howl

Srinika Guha is eight years old, and lives in Auckland, New Zealand.


Wild Moon – Xanthe Pearce

The moon shines down on the lit pathway
Playing with the shadows
Confusing the wind as she makes her way in the sky.
During the day, she can still be seen faintly, not wanting to miss out.
She teases the clouds then hides behind them.
She breaks away then pops up full
Like lightning from the ashes.
Wilder than the wind.
Wilder than the darkness.
She fills the sky
With her wild glow.

Xanthe Pearce is eleven years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Wild West – Adele Sherborne

The Wild West with a cowboy
And a bandit. Clock ticking,
Waiting, waiting, sweating, sweating,
Bang! Bang! Bang! Cowboy shoots
Faster than his own shadow.

Adele Sherborne is eight years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


[Untitled] – Jana Heise

Jana Heise is thirteen years old, and lives in Annapolis, Maryland, United States.


Thunder – Lily O’Halloran

Thunder sounds like the clouds
are banging together and
fighting.
Thunder sounds like
drumming monkeys.
When I hear thunder
I hide
under my blanket.

Lily O’Halloran is eight years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Insect City – Pierre Montelle

The crackle of the bushes in the wind –
Do you wonder what that is?
The wind?
No
It’s an insect city
Deep in the gorse
A young man, inhaling death, walked past
Careless
Justice patrols the park
The young man discards his cigarette
He runs
Death spreads her burden over the insects
A wild flame engulfs the park
The crackle of insects

Pierre Montelle is fifteen years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Wild – Khadija Sheikh

skin, silky smooth skin
venomous teeth sharp as knives
eyes pitch black
it slides through bladed grass
waiting for its prey

Khadija Sheikh is eleven years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


[Untitled] – Jana Heise

Jana Heise is thirteen years old, and lives in Annapolis, Maryland, United States.


The Fire That Killed Everything – Greta Jenkins

As the fire grew
and the forest fell,
the birds flew and foxes yelped.
People fled for their lives.
Houses burned down.
Firefighters fought the angry flames
but they grew and grew.
They danced with the wind
and fell with the trees.

Greta Jenkins is ten years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


When I Walk into the Jungle – Robbie de Groot-Tsuji

When I walk into the jungle,
thick vines block my way.
Tall trees climbing to get to the sun.
Snakes striking
at the sneakiest possible moment.
The cassowary is fast, but
when you turn to look at him
he’s gone.
When I walk into the jungle,
I taste the sweet, sweet air
and smell the smell of rain.
The birds sound like
The Puppy Concerto
on the piano.
When I walk into the jungle,
I feel calm
like a sloth.

Robbie de Groot-Tsuji is ten years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


[Untitled] – Cosmina Werneke

Mann_Frau_2

Cosmina Werneke is seventeen years old, and lives in Igling, Germany.


Wild – Lizzie Jessep

Waves crash down like footsteps
Squishing sandcastles
Black and green seaweed lines the shore
Crabs scuttle out of the storm
Into warm crab caves
Engraved in the rock
Broken nests
Dragged into the sea
Eggshells and jagged rocks
Seals retreat down to the depths
Camouflaged in their glossy backs
A cupboard with a broken handle
Damp with sea water
The wind howls

Lizzie Jessep is twelve years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Before the light fades – Sophie Riggall

I hear her soft breathing
Tinkling almost like a lullaby
Soft breath turning rapid
Her braid whipping as she runs
Hoofs bright as stars flashing past
Disappearing into the wind
All good things are wild and free
Just because her path is different
Doesn’t mean she’s lost
The colours of the wind
Swirl with the mountains
Wildness floats around her
Chasing the stars until daybreak
Swooping through clouds
Only to find her again

Sophie Riggall is eleven years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Submissions Notice – August 2018 Issue Wild

Recently closed

Submissions may be, but are not limited to, writing (essays, short stories, micro stories, poetry—any forms of writing), photography, visual art (digital art included), and music. Submit through email at fingerscommatoes[at]gmail[dot]com. In your email, please include your age, geographical location, and what kind of piece you are submitting (writing, photography, art, music, etc.). If submitting multiple pieces, please condense them into a zipped (.zip) file with your name included in the file name.

We welcome previously published work. Simultaneous submissions are acceptable but we advise that the artist/author informs us if the submission is accepted or published elsewhere.

There are no limits as to the length of written submissions; we enjoy flash fiction, short stories, long stories, and poetry, but prose submissions under five thousand words are preferable (though exceptions may be made). Artists/authors may submit up to five pieces each. We encourage variety and international submissions.

Submission themes are not strict and may be interpreted freely. Any inquiries may be emailed directly to us.

About the August 2018 issue:

– Submission period: 22 June 2018 to 03 August 2018

– Theme: Wild

– Artists/authors will be notified in August 2018.

Fingers comma Toes Logo Final

January 2018 Issue: Unthemed

Contents:

Backfield Sunrise – Jaia Harris (age 10; Rarotonga, Cook Islands)
Divine – E Wen Wong (age 15; Christchurch, New Zealand)
[Untitled] – Bryn Hill (age 14; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Te Moana – Grace Newman Holt (age 09; Rarotonga, Cook Islands)
[Untitled] – Reva Hunter (age 09; Rarotonga, Cook Islands)
tiny things – Jack MacKay (age 10; Christchurch, New Zealand
[Untitled] – Graeme Campbell (age 14; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Eiffel at Dusk – Chloe van der Ree (age 13; Christchurch, New Zealand)
The Mountains of Moon – Tom Nalder (age 09; Christchurch, New Zealand)
An island at night on Jokijärvi – Elisa Holmstrom (age 05; Tanga, Tanzania)
Cry of the Lions – Hannah Withers (age 09; Christchurch, New Zealand)
[Untitled]  – Lila Collins (age 09; Sunshine Coast, Australia)
Italia! – Ava Deeley and Marina Haynes (ages 12 and 12; San Blas Islands, Panama and Secret Harbour, Grenada)
[Untitled] – Bethany Webb (age 10; Rarotonga, Cook Islands)
The Scrapyard – Harry Waddington (age 13; Christchurch, New Zealand)
[Untitled] – Griffin Wittwer (age 10; Rarotonga, Cook Islands)
Scouting Flanders Fields – Joshua Persico (age 13; Christchurch, New Zealand)
[Untitled] – Max Heuze (age 10; Rarotonga, Cook Islands)
The Onu – Theo Cooling (age 10; Rarotonga, Cook Islands)
Fȗr Beethoven – Sparsh Johri (age 13; San Jose, California, United States)
Entwined – Monica Koster (age 15; Christcurch, New Zealand)
[Untitled] – Maeva Fe’ao (age 09; Rarotonga, Cook Islands)
Fire in Winter – Xanthe McElroy (age 11; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Tree of Life – Jana Heise (age 13; Richards Bay, South Africa)
Though Sometimes We Burn – Kailani M. Clarke (age 17; Centreville, Maryland, United States)

Backfield Sunrise – Jaia Harris

Jaia Harris is ten years old, and lives in Rarotonga, Cook Islands.


Divine – E Wen Wong

Steam ascends into the air,
like the Hogwarts train
approaching platform 9 and 3/4.
Gazing at the chips,
we have the prying eyes
of seagulls.
Fireballs of impatience
linger in our stomachs,
our fingers shaking with temptation.
The edge of a chip grappled,
paper ripped,
gone in a millisecond.
Chips made to savour,
salt licked meticulously
from our hands.

E Wen Wong is fifteen years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


[Untitled] – Bryn Hill

Bryn Hill is fourteen years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Te Moana – Grace Newman Holt

Fierce undertow
She calls me into her arms
I let her take me
The colossal waves
Draw me beneath the sea
I’m gasping for breath
The waves send me back
Smashing on the soft sand bed
I have been set free
Waves build before me
Mist like a thousand diamonds
One by one they fall
Te Moana’s beauty
Can hold you and let you go
The ocean calls me

Grace Newman Holt is nine years old, and lives in Rarotonga, Cook Islands.


[Untitled] – Reva Hunter

Reva Hunter is nine years old, and lives in Rarotonga, Cook Islands.


tiny things – Jack MacKay

ants creeping in between cracks
of an old house
cookie crumbs sticking
to stinky feet
clear lego spuds
sucked up by a vacuum cleaner
rattle, tap, ping
pins fallen on the ground
right side up
one letter words,
speck, spider, molecule

Jack MacKay is ten years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


[Untitled] – Graeme Campbell

Graeme Campbell is fourteen years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Eiffel At Dusk – Chloe van der Ree

Chloe van der Ree is thirteen years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


The Mountains of Moon – Tom Nalder

The moon is protected
by layers of dusty rock.
When it is very dark
the moon comes into the sky
and shines like the sun.
You can’t buy the moon.
On the moon the telephone
is connected to earth
so I can call Mr Money.
Mr Money tells me
the earth is inside
a bottle. I pour
a glass of earth
so I can have
enough money to buy grapes.

Tom Nalder is nine years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


An island at night on Jokijärvi – Elisa Holmstrom

Elisa Holmstrom is five years old, and lives in Tanga, Tanzania.


Cry of the Lions – Hannah Withers

 I stand here with my pride
And we’re all about to hide
With these new animals killing us
We must do what we can
I’m worried about what would happen if we all ran
We’re planning on what to do
But we need to think it through
I stand here with my pride
But we need to leave
We just need to heave our heavy hearts
And go

Hannah Withers is nine years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


[Untitled] – Lila Collins

Lila Collins is nine years old, and lives in Sunshine Coast, Australia.


Italia! – Ava Deeley and Marina Haynes

Ava Deeley is twelve years old, and lives in San Blas Islands, Panama. Marina Haynes is twelve years old, and lives in Secret Harbour, Grenada.


[Untitled] – Bethany Webb

Bethany Webb is ten years old, and lives in Rarotonga, Cook Islands.


The Scrapyard – Harry Waddington

An old desert road
Littered with stones
Thrown from the wheels of trucks long passed
The scrapyard rests
Silent and deserted
Sheets of metal
Their faces marred by time
Never to be used
Old chains lock the fence
Once as strong as granite
Now falling at a slight touch
An old office crouches in the corner
Its windows dusty
Its furniture crumbling
A car’s corpse sleeps
On a bed of old bolts
The paint destroyed
Replaced by the orange flakes of rust
An old water bowl
For a dog long gone
A splash of blue and green
Showing the visitors
Daryl Was Here

Harry Waddington is thirteen years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


[Untitled] – Griffin Wittwer

Griffin Wittwer is ten years old, and lives in Rarotonga, Cook Islands.


Scouting Flanders Fields – Joshua Persico

Because they strap a gas mask on him lined with rabbit fur
He believes he is going on a rabbit hunt
He believes he will run across Flanders Fields brushing by poppies
Barking down holes to first expose the furry enemy then attack
He imagines the fear in their glassy eyes
Instead he smells fear in the trenches in Flanders Fields
He hears the cocking of guns and the releasing of safety catches
He sees the fallen soldiers and smells the scent of fresh wounds
He’ll never forget their eyes

Joshua Persico is thirteen years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


[Untitled] – Max Heuze

Max Heuze is ten years old, and lives in Rarotonga, Cook Islands.


The Onu – Theo Cooling

Theo Cooling is ten years old, and lives in Rarotonga, Cook Islands.


Fȗr Beethoven – Sparsh Johri

The Sonata in E major echoed off the nondescript walls of the room, as Ludwig van Beethoven played in concentration. The hardwood floor was masked by a thick layer of dust, music notebooks, and papers. A glass chandelier hung low from the ceiling, swaying to the four-four time of the first movement.
I found myself thinking about what another great musician had prophesied. I remembered Mozart’s words like they were said yesterday: “He will give the world something worth listening to.” Certainly, as Beethoven’s favorite piano, I could attest to that. He was a musical genius, balancing his commitment to form with astonishing creativity.
My thoughts were interrupted as he abruptly took his fingers off my keys and rubbed his hair. With a dissatisfied expression, he muttered, “No, no, that’s not right.” Ludwig experimented with a different series of notes, shaking his head each time. Finally, the perfect melody came to him, and, brightening up, he wrote the correction over the previous notes, further smearing the already blackened paper. This was how our day functioned. Sometimes a patron would ask him to perform a symphony; sometimes his day was free. However he passed the day, music was the center of his life.
One day, Ludwig came down with a serious illness. It started with some coughing and headaches. However, it soon became severe. For several weeks, he was bedridden and weak. Fortunately, he recovered, and was able to resume his normal routine rather quickly.
A couple of months later, Ludwig came home with red eyes and an upset expression. After his performance, he had not heard the applause of the crowd and left abruptly. Later, his patron, the Count of Vienpolis, asked, “Why did you leave?”
“I compose for those who appreciate me and my music, not ungrateful cavemen in fancy attire,” retorted Ludwig in an icy tone.
Sparks of anger blazed from the count’s eyes. “How dare you speak like that to your betters! The applause was thunderous! Are you deaf? Leave this place immediately!”
Ludwig was too stunned to give a final scathing reply, or do anything except comply. As he signaled a carriage and rode home, he felt the words cut into him like a blade. Are you deaf? The next day, he called a doctor. The man was very tall and thin, and had short, black hair, a beaky nose, and a serious demeanor. After an examination, the doctor confirmed Ludwig’s worst suspicions.
“Your hearing is indeed subpar. At your present rate of deterioration, you shall become totally deaf in…”
By then, Ludwig had tuned out. He stared ahead, oblivious to almost all but the privacy of his own thoughts. Like a man in a daze, he paid the doctor and showed him out.
After that, he sat in a chair, facing me and his violin. “‘Are you deaf?’” he repeated, over and over again. With a sudden, bitter grin, he turned to the ceiling and screamed, “Yes, I am deaf! I shall lose all that I value!” Ludwig took the violin bow and hurled it across the room, then put his head into his arms and sobbed.
As the years passed, his deafness grew. At home, he played louder and louder. His violin, cello, and I needed to have our strings repaired every month. His anger and anguish found their way into several symphonies and sonatas, and his overall style became more emotional.
His temperament became suspicious and irritable. He distanced himself from his friends and family. Ludwig never shared his feelings, never let anyone else know how he felt inside. He let the feelings fester within him, fueling his resentment against the world. At times, Ludwig would cease playing altogether and leave. Melodies came into his mind more easily now, but it was so hard to project those notes into reality.
His practice time reduced to two hours. He barely spoke now. Finally, all of his depression and stress culminated, on a particularly bad day, when he made thirty big mistakes in as many minutes.
“That’s it!” he yelled. “I dedicate my life to music, and I am cursed with this affliction! Well, then, I shall stop music forever! I shall sell my instruments!” And with three ominous chords, he left.
Three days. Three horrible empty days passed. He didn’t come at all into the music room, even once. The entire mansion was filled with the nothingness of silence. Perhaps he is right, I found myself thinking. Perhaps he will stop creating music. The thought distressed me more than I could convey. We, his instruments, had failed.
On the fourth day, suddenly Ludwig came back, a smile on his face. He didn’t speak a word, but from his expression, I knew that he would never abandon music. It took me some time to understand, but I finally did. Over the three days, the loud absence of music must have made him realize the value of it. Music had been the guiding light through the storms of his father’s tyranny and the escape from the prison of early rejection. Before fame, music was all he had. How could he give it up?
Beethoven never did stop being surly; it was in his nature. However, he never stopped composing. Long after his death, the deaf musician left behind a legacy that changed music, paving the way for the emotion of Romanticism and setting a foundation for the future. He accomplished all this simply by triumphing over his inner demons. No, it went deeper: he changed his destiny instead of letting it define him. On some days, I wonder if it was his pain that made him strong. Was it his loss that added meaning to his life? Maybe. Maybe not. I cannot truly say. Today, I am so badly out of tune that my C sounds like an Ab. My wood is starting to rot, and my strings are almost gone. I have played my part in history, and I hope that I have played it well. I shall soon join Ludwig van Beethoven in the eternal orchestra that plays for all to hear, the music of hope and spirit, music that transcends the elementary restrictions life chooses to place.

Sparsh Johri is thirteen years old, and lives in San Jose, California, United States.


Entwined – Monica Koster

Monica Koster is fifteen years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


[Untitled] – Maeva Fe’ao

Maeva Fe’ao is nine years old, and lives in Rarotonga, Cook Islands.


Fire in Winter – Xanthe McElroy

the thin arms of pines
are covered in a blanket of white
a lynx attempts a useless camouflage
a flare dances in the reflection of his lustrous eyes
he prances through the thicket
and out into the eyesight of the fiery dancer
that turns
and tumbles
he returns
hysterical to the winter desert
and into the night sky
he limps away

Xanthe McElroy is eleven years old, and lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Tree of Life – Jana Heise

Jana Heise is thirteen years old, and lives in Richards Bay, South Africa.


Though Sometimes We Burn – Kailani M. Clarke

For Chester Bennington

There are days I would give anything
to be changed.
These are the days when all I see are ghosts.
I swallow them.
I catch myself on the nooses
they hang from the ceiling.
These are the days there is broken glass under my palms
and I think I put it there.
But then, harsh and brightly,
my mind is a mirror, reflecting the times before
when I kept my head above the water
and kept myself above my head
and I am grateful to have limbs
a long neck
a loved heart
so I may do it again.
Grateful too for the darkness.
Those flint teeth in me, against whom
I spark fire
which gives me words and colors
which makes the ghosts in my belly scream
and lets those screams come out
as songs

Kailani M. Clarke is seventeen years old, and lives in Centreville, Maryland, United States.


Submissions Notice – January 2018 Issue Unthemed

Recently closed

Submissions may be, but are not limited to, writing (essays, short stories, micro stories, poetry—any forms of writing), photography, visual art (digital art included), and music. Submit through email at fingerscommatoes[at]gmail[dot]com. In your email, please include your age, geographical location, and what kind of piece you are submitting (writing, photography, art, music, etc.). If submitting multiple pieces, please condense them into a zipped (.zip) file with your name included in the file name.

We welcome previously published work. Simultaneous submissions are acceptable but we advise that the artist/author informs us if the submission is accepted or published elsewhere.

There are no limits as to the length of written submissions; we enjoy flash fiction, short stories, long stories, and poetry, but prose submissions under five thousand words are preferable (though exceptions may be made). Artists/authors may submit up to five pieces each. We encourage variety and international submissions.

Submission themes are not strict and may be interpreted freely. Any inquiries may be emailed directly to us.

About the January 2018 issue:

– Submission period: 18 September 2017 to 30 November 2017

– Theme: Unthemed – The January 2018 issue is our first unthemed issue. We look forward to seeing your work!

– Artists/authors will be notified by 31 December 2017.

Fingers comma Toes Logo Final

January 2017 Issue Snow

Contents:

[Untitled] – Eleanor Bennett (age 20; Manchester, England)
The Changing Snow – Peyton Vernon (age 09; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Snow – Henry Russell (age 13; Christchurch, New Zealand)
The Painting – Xanthe McElroy (age 10; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Snow filled – Hazel Harris (age 13; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Memories – Mel Leatherland (age 10; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Clouds – Sophie Yu (age 18; Auckland, New Zealand)
Snow – William Foulds (age 09; Christchurch, New Zealand)
fox with fear – Bella Rose (age 14; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Snow story – Lizzie Jessep (age 11; Christchurch, New Zealand)
The Super Snowdog – Sophie McKague (age 09; Canada)
The Leaving Of Snow – Emma Cawood (age 11; New Zealand)
Ice – Sophie Yu (age 18; Auckland, New Zealand)
[Untitled] Fergus Barnard (age 09; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Snow in Spain – Emma Espino (age 09; Christchurch, New Zealand)
Where have all the children gone? – Erica Taylor (age 13; Christchurch, New Zealand)
My friend is melting – Imogen Twiss (age 15; Christchurch, New Zealand)
no eyes – Ryan Tuzyk (age 26; Toronto, Canada)
Snow – Sophie Yu (age 18; Auckland, New Zealand)
Snow – Frances Stanley (age 09; Christchurch, New Zealand)
The Snow Fisher – Joshua Persico (age 12; Christchurch, New Zealand)

[Untitled] – Eleanor Bennett

p1150668

Eleanor Bennett is twenty years old. She lives in Manchester, England.


The Changing Snow – Peyton Vernon

On a cold night,
Where the world never speaks
And when you dream
You always seem
To fade into a nightmare
The only shadows there are ran away, never found
Cold is cold,
Like stones, smashing you down
But then there is change,
Snowman, sleighs, snowball fights, ice skating
Which make you smile
A warm smile
And laugh.

Peyton Vernon is nine years old. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Snow – Henry Russell

I come from a world no one else lives in
I’m stranded in the thick snow no one in sight
Nothing to see but long white clouds of snow
It’s like I’m a boat in the middle of the ocean
Nowhere to go
But to just slowly melt with the snow
And wave goodbye to the world I was in
Now I’m back
In my house
Snuggling close to the fire
Remembering the wonderful world I was in

Henry Russell is thirteen years old. He lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


The Painting – Xanthe McElroy

The blue strokes danced across the canvas
Spots of yellow swam through the deep blue
Reflections swayed in the milky water
The boat was thrust along the rough harbour
Snow fell around their steps hiding them under layers
They huddled close and dragged their tired feet along the cold icy ground
The once awake city slept under watch of the lights above
All frozen in the interpretation of an artist

Xanthe McElroy is ten years old. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Snow filled – Hazel Harris

Seeing
snow-mountains
outside my window
where we danced
in the garden
all afternoon.
then the look
of wonder
filled her eyes
the light snow
filled her arms
a wide smile
grew across her face
now I just
sit staring
at snow

Hazel Harris is thirteen years old. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Memories – Mel Leatherland

I sit in front of the cliff
My old wooden house behind me
I remember when my parents were here
How happy they were with me
How the weather used to change so quickly to hail
I remember we all ran and dodged the snow
I sit with the eagle
As sad as ever
As black as the eagle’s eye

Mel Leatherland is ten years old. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Clouds – Sophie Yu

clouds

Sophie Yu is eighteen years old. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand.


Snow – William Foulds

I see snow out the window on this isolated mountain.
I would go skiing but the winds are rough and thick.
Snow piles up foot by foot to make an abominable snowman.
It clatters on the door and all the pots fall down in a bang.
I get a bat and open the door and swish, he breaks into thousands of pieces.
I stare out the window and see the sun, I think I’m wanting to go skiing.

William Foulds is nine years old. He lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


fox with fear – Bella Rose

long grass
once covered the land
no longer seen
hot nights, sunny days
were once a dream
winter nights are now a reality
a fox creeps through ancient trees
which stand above
the forest floor like burning rocks
the fox who is not wanting to touch danger
dodging bullets as the fox climbs
over trees avoiding evil
dead, broken trunks which have
fallen on the harsh ground are pathways
to freedom
they don’t go forever, they face the end
stuck
lost
his footprints now
thick sheets of snow

Bella Rose is fourteen years old. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Snow story – Lizzie Jessep

The snow falls softly in the blue sky
As the snowman
Dreams of a warm day.
The sun shining bright
And the glistening grass
With little water droplets
Shimmering
The snowman opens his eyes
And cries but they turn into ice
Plink plink plink
Then he sees the soft cold snow
So delicate
So beautiful
He realises that winter is a time for
Fun, warmth and love
And winter is done.

Lizzie Jessep is eleven years old. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


The Super Snowdog – Sophie McKague

It is a cold snowy day and all the snowdogs are playing outside in the snow. Snowflakes the snowdog is building a snowman with his mate Frost. Everyone is having fun. After some time, Snowflakes gets cold and decides to go inside. So he leaves Frost alone to play in the snow and heads into the den. Snowflakes has no idea what is about to happen.
Just then disaster strikes. A snowstorm has come out of nowhere. All the snowdogs run inside to the safety of the den except one – Frost! As Frost stays to play in the snow a little bit longer the snowstorm gets closer…and closer… until…Ahh! Frost is covered in snow.
Snowflakes hears Frost call and dashes out into the pearl-white snow. The snow becomes deeper and feels colder. Snowflakes cannot find Frost. Frost is buried under the snow. Frost breathes in the crisp air, shivering.With the last of his energy Frost shouts ‘Help!’ Snowflakes’ ears perk up as he reaches to grab his friend. The two friends return home safe and sound. They cuddle up to the fire to have some hot chocolate with marshmallows.

Sophie McKague is nine years old. She lives in Canada.


The Leaving Of Snow – Emma Cawood

The hissing of wind
as it threw the snow into the air.
The crackling fire
as it spread throughout the house
lay only in a broken picture frame.
The burning sun now reflects off the broken glass.
The heat now covers the earth banishing any snow.
The only snow left trickles out of a crack in the picture frame.

Emma Cawood is eleven years old. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Ice – Sophie Yu

ice

Sophie Yu is eighteen years old. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand.


[Untitled] – Fergus Barnard

Light snowflakes falling
Raging snowballs flying
Stiff glaciers crumbling

Fergus Barnard is nine years old. He lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Snow in Spain – Emma Espino

It’s Christmas time
Snow is falling
It is cold in Spain
The Olentzero is coming
To all the good kids
The hidden toy cake and the devil cakes are on the table
Waiting to be eaten
Everyone is playing outside
Making snowmen
Making angels
Time to come in,
Let’s have some hot chocolate!!

Emma Espino is nine years old. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


Where have all the children gone? – Erica Taylor

Alone in an abandoned park,
Whispers of the past behind me, tickling my ears.
The future calling me,
Cold, damp, crying, concrete.
Memories flicker in my eyes,
Bars, Ladder, Slide,
Sleety raindrops start falling,
And the children slowly come back from the shadows,
Their smiles cause a chain reaction in everyone around.
Blizzarding down, the snow stealing the children.
Until only I am left,
And my smile fades into the white coat,
The quiescent surroundings bringing peace to me.

Erica Taylor is thirteen years old. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


My friend is melting – Imogen Twiss

She is ashamed to admit
she puts butter and icing sugar
on her popcorn
her breath blows avalanches
she hides in the clouds
she makes
she is my flower
etiolated
she cowers in the shadows
of broad oaks
she is my early crocus
purple, blooming out beneath her eyes
over her skim milk face
her winter cheeks
too thin, too fat
she is melting away from this world
I see her through cataracts
like frosted glass
too quiet
taunting
dancing at the corners of my eyes
she appears, disappears
my arctic fox in the tundra
she lies in the mist
I think I missed
her life is spilling from her mouth
her throat is burning
she is dripping away
like an icicle in the sun
she is destroyed
my friend, why don’t you know
you are beautiful
you are my snow angel

Imogen Twiss is fifteen years old. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


no eyes – Ryan Tuzyk

you have no eyes
snow eyes, waterfalls
tangled in, uncover you
always a brother, you
hid it, gave it, took it
i read your book, but only pages
you have no arms
bare skin, thin lines
torn skin, broken bones
soft spoken, paper folded
i couldn’t wait, i
never did it right
i used to watch fireworks
then we started getting tense
i used to go to the beach
used to flow to it
scars heal
words freeze and thaw
the next time it snows
i’ll go, i’ll say i’m sorry
tongue out, catch the glistens
hope you listen

Ryan Tuzyk is twenty-six years old. He lives in Toronto, Canada.


Snow – Sophie Yu

snow

Sophie Yu is eighteen years old. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand.


Snow – Frances Stanley

The sun is rising
And white crystals are everywhere
My boots crunch on the ground
This time it is snow, not leaves
Now all I can see is a layer of white, inches tall
Painting the valleys of crops and grass
White.

Frances Stanley is nine years old. He lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


The Snow Fisher – Joshua Persico

The leaves collapse.
The first snowflakes cling onto my oars.
The thick smell of a salty sea comforts me.
My line twitches.
Behind me a flax kete with two blue cod.
Pacific
Ocean
Sunset
Reflection
Shells
The waves collapse.
The clouds start to soften.
Snow is the promise of water.

Joshua Persico is twelve years old. He lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.


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Submissions Notice – January 2017 Issue Snow

Recently closed

Submissions may be, but are not limited to, writing (essays, short stories, micro stories, poetry—any forms of writing), photography, visual art (digital art included), and music. Submit through email at fingerscommatoes[at]gmail[dot]com. In your email, please include your age, geographical location, and what kind of piece you are submitting (writing, photography, art, music, etc.). If submitting multiple pieces, please condense them into a zipped (.zip) file with your name included in the file name.

We welcome previously published work. Simultaneous submissions are acceptable but we advise that the artist/author informs us if the submission is accepted or published elsewhere.

There are no limits as to the length of written submissions; we enjoy flash fiction, short stories, long stories, and poetry, but prose submissions under five thousand words are preferable (though exceptions may be made). Artists/authors may submit up to five pieces each. We encourage variety and international submissions.

Submission themes are not strict and may be interpreted freely. Any inquiries may be emailed directly to us.

About the January 2017 issue:

– Submission period: 28 October 2016 to 16 December 2016

– Theme: Snow

– Artists/authors will be notified by 31 December 2016.

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