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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In photos shot from satellites in spacethe autos seep as spillage on the road, so many going nowhere in a race,and everyone a no-one in a crowd. Construction, paid-for mess, alleviates:but ...
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A Winter of Discontent by Kat Merrigan
If you ever studied Shakespeare in school, this title may sound familiar. It was inspired by Richard III. It came to mind as I was preparing this article. I’m not sure about you, but I have s...
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Anya, The Bleeding Woman is Healed by Katie Sampias
Plop. A water droplet fell on Anya's head. The moisture shocked her from her sleep and she opened her eyes. Her sparse single-room dwelling was still dark with just a hint of the morning light...
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I Feel Their Hands Upon Me by Ann Iverson
for my parents They are strings of a violinor light that filters through the treesand through the thickness of this lifeI feel their hands upon me. They are a lampin a window,the window n...
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After the natural revelations of old, wizened, vintage faces, aged hands are the body’s raw and rare feature that most ...
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French Press by Caroline Liberatore
Coffee beans, in grinding and agonyRelease the aromatic nod of dawn.Will you partake in the pressing? The scalding, the scoldingFlurry of once sedentary groundsjolted to motion. The crush...
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