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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Does Everything Happen for a Reason? by Kayla Green
“Everything happens for a reason,” or does it? The helpfulness of the phrase is heavily debated. Does it help one cope, or does it undermine one’s grief and cause one to question God’s will? ...
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Love is red, they sayOr sometimes pinkOr very occasionally greenWith the freshness of springBut I say love is fall Love is orangeUpbeat and energeticWarm and invitingA first glanceAn inside...
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Blue is a woeful flower so small that it gets lost among his brothers in the field, with drops of white that beg the pollinators to visit. Blue is a burgeoning flower for his s...
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They always are pursuing me,and constantly they roamever searching, ever yearningfor something not their own: To flit from mountain peak to peakon clouds with glory glazed;forever dancing...
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It’s like pure Sheol on our faces.We knew this would be our destiny:to have blood melted, skin crisped—but we would not use unkissed lipsand golden words to build an idol.We refused to thro...
Read moreLift My Wings by Patricia Orozco
As each part of myself fell completely apart, I couldn’t help but wonder why.Why the plague of darkness could not be cured, why the depth of my soul was tugged below the pit of my stomach, wh...
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