about Calla Press, the Literary Journal
WHO WE ARE
We publish articles on faith, poetry, prose, essays, flash fiction, short fiction, and book excerpts. Max is 5,000 WC per literary genre.
As of August 2026, we are open for online literary submissions only. We are currently not accepting entries for a print journal at this time. Please subscribe to know when we do open for a print journal!
Please fill out our Formester form here to apply and submit your work. Entries submitted by any other means will be overlooked. Thank you for understanding. Please wait two weeks before submitting new work. Simultaneous submissions welcome. Please expect to wait one to two months before hearing back about the status of your submission.
Welcome to Calla Press
Calla Press began in 2017, when our founder first started publishing others' work on her website. In 2019, that early collection of writing evolved into an online literary journal through Issuu every year thereafter, laying the foundation for what would become Calla Press.
The journal soon expanded into an annual print publication. You can find our published journals online.
Today, Calla Press is an established literary journal publishing work submitted online on a rolling basis. We remain committed to creating a thoughtful, lasting space for writers and their work.
Articles
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The stillness of the early morning;as the sun timidly peers his golden faceupon the gray mist of night exhaling.I sit and drink tea.It is warm with milk and honey and tasteslike all the count...
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Hidden in the depth of the valleyWeak and layered with dust,Too fragile to hold a breath. A mere skeletal frame of what ICould haveShould haveWould have been. You clean them off with aGen...
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I Cannot Be That Place by Jordan Sleed
I cannot be that place But, I can become Like a painting from it And like a painting, give to you And you, to me. You’ll know that I cannot give All that you desire, but I can w...
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The clouds sing woodsong in distant hills, discuss secrets of ancient water, divine the future, interpret wondrous pearl-light, a radiance that transfigures vision into Love, lets o...
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Forgetting to Remember by Linda McCullough
The backyard whited overnight, now raindrops clink – dawn wants it worded: crinkle – on the air conditioner a fugacious summer left to rust there in the sunroom window. So much water we...
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This is a tribute that I wrote to my mother, Ellie Marie Jordan (4/23/1938-12/3/2009).I shared it with her many times before her death, then read it at her funeral. I am the son of Tita...
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