Submission Guidelines

Oyster River Pages will accept fiction and creative nonfiction submissions for publication in our eighth annual special issue from August 7th, 2025 to September 30th, 2025.

Your submission should be a previously unpublished work of fiction no longer than 6,000 words in a .doc or .docx format. It can be single-spaced or double-spaced, as long as the font is Times New Roman, size 12.

Simultaneous submissions are welcomed and encouraged, but please make sure to withdraw your submission immediately if it gets accepted elsewhere. We request first serial rights, after which all rights revert to the author.

Please include a brief author bio, of around 60 words, with your submission. We are especially on the lookout for diverse voices and work from historically marginalized creators, so we invite you to self-identify in your cover letter if you feel comfortable.

Our special issue will be led and operated by our 2025 fiction intern Passant Eltarek and creative nonfiction intern Kylie Hoy. Please read their call for submissions here:

FICTION

Apophenia

Have you ever looked at the sky on a pleasant morning and thought you saw a cloud that looked like a giraffe or a tree? Have you ever ordered pizza and thought it was smiling at you because of the placement of pepperoni and bell pepper? If so, you have experienced apophenia.

In psychology, apophenia is defined as the tendency to perceive a connection or meaningful pattern between unrelated or random things or events. This can be visual perception, like in the examples above, or otherwise. It can be a tune your protagonist picks up on in the steady ticking of the clock, a scent that brings back childhood memories for no particular reason, or a face they recognize in an inanimate object like a rock. Apophenia is not limited to sensory input; it can also be conceptual in nature. Does your character feel more confident that their basketball team will win the upcoming match because they've achieved a winning streak over the past month? Does your narrator receive news of death on the days they check the time at exactly 9:13? Does your character wonder why the description of the missing person being reported on TV sounds exactly like them?

In a world that's becoming increasingly chaotic and confusing, it's normal for humans to try to latch onto meaning wherever we can find it. While this may sometimes lead to the formation of inaccurate associations, we believe they're still worth exploring. We are looking for work that explores the psychological complexity that arises from simple, everyday encounters. We want work that showcases how even the most mundane reality, when filtered through the human mind, can have a touch of the speculative.

We are especially eager to publish pieces that engage with the work of marginalized and decentered people—Black and Brown creators, LGBTQ+ creators, and creators of all levels of dis/ability, and to that end, we invite creators to self-identify in their submissions.

Please note that Oyster River Pages will not publish any work that has been created, in part or in full, or in collaboration with generative artificial intelligence. Should we find that work published on our site has been created with the support of generative artificial intelligence, we reserve the right to remove such work from our site and rescind publication.

CREATIVE NONFICTION

Hiraeth

The Welsh word hiraeth has no exact English translation, but it encompasses a feeling that every one of us experiences at some point in our lives. Hiraeth is associated with a longing for something or someone, similar to homesickness. It evokes a deep sense of nostalgia that forces us to become aware of something missing in our lives. In a world in which our political, technological, social, economic, and emotional landscapes are changing every day, hiraeth quickly becomes—despite its vagueness—a feeling that grounds us all.

In creative nonfiction, Oyster River Pages is looking for essays that harness the feeling of hiraeth through commentary on a physical or emotional place or state of being from the past. Examples may include essays on the topic of generative AI and its effects on ownership and creativity, the longing for a person once known, or personal accounts of displacement. Strong essays won’t be afraid to dive deep into sentiments of longing and nostalgia, provoking thoughtful reflections on experiences that invoke that strange, intangible feeling of absence.

Incarcerated persons, or others unable to use Submittable, may send submissions to:

Oyster River Pages
Attn: Submissions
P.O. Box 706
Lewes, DE 19958

We regret that we cannot reply to all postal submissions. If you do not hear from us within six months, assume that we have declined your submission.