You're Write Online Zine
Calling all teens ages 13-17: share your writing in our online zine, You're Write
Anyone from the age of 13 to the age of 17 is welcome to submit short stories, poems, and creative nonfiction via the submission form. We will select and post work on a quarterly basis, with new issues going up in January, April, July, and October. We'll let you know if your work has been selected within a month of your submission date.
 
Please read our submission guidelines before submitting.
 
NEXT ISSUE (Fall) comes out January 19, 2017.
DEADLINE for submissions is January 12, 2017.
 
Please enjoy the selections for our latest issue below.

Four arms
That are rough,
And faded,
As they wrap around me
I can feel their cold and
They can hear mine.

I hold a globe
Of light as it dances around my
Skull, and
I wonder if it has ever
Touched upon yours.

There she was. Standing, in a paper white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Her wavy brown hair, that I loved to play with but she despised, was held together precariously by a single hair tie. The light flickered to an irregular beat, highlighting the strands of copper that streaked and danced through her head. Her back was to me, only emphasizing the gap, both physically and emotionally, between us. I could not see her face, but what I could see broke my already bruised and torn heart.

Her back. I could count every rib, every crevice, creating a story only understood by those who knew her. And only to those who knew her well. Like with everything else in her life, this girl had planned, processed, and produced this disease so that even a close inspection could not tell what was going on. Only through the little things did I even suspect that there was a crack on the perfectly created mask of Lacey Charleston.

Elizabeth Porter sat quietly in her statehouse, staring at the ceiling. It was 1912, and she was aboard the RMS Titanic, a newly built ship that was sailing from Southampton, England, to New York in America. Elizabeth was thinking, in her usual reserved way, about the expenses and wonder of the amazing, beautiful ship that was now sailing swiftly through the Atlantic Ocean. What a lot of money it must have cost to build this spectacularly radiant sailing vessel, she thought. Then the charming, sixteen-year-old girl's thoughts suddenly changed. She remembered earlier that day, when she was in her stateroom, and a steward appeared in her doorway.

As the dark closed in, and the golden-red sun slowly set, Evanthe moved in closer to the tree. The fire crackled as a log fell and embers flew up into the sky, twinkling like the emerging stars. Evanthe pulled her black plaid shirt tighter around her. She sighed and shivered slightly. "Thank you so much for inviting me Kavon. You really have no idea how much I appreciate it."

I smiled as I answered, "No prob. I'm glad you could come!" We sat in contented silence as the others laughed and talked around the campsite.

"Wow! The stars are so bright! I've never seen stars so bright."

Evanthe laughed. "That's because you live in the city. The pollution and lights block the most of the stars from view."

"No, I'm serious. Look at them!"

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