18 Publishers Who Accept Unsolicited Manuscripts

MAINLY FOR CHILDREN OR YA BOOKS, BUT ALSO SOME PUBLISH ADULT BOOKS.

Never Give Up by Joan Y. Edwards

“40 Publishers Who Accept Unsolicited Manuscripts” by Joan Y. Edwards

Your revised and edited manuscripts are saying:

“Send me to a publisher.  Send me. Send me. I’m ready!”

It’s okay if in the past you didn’t submit your work, as many times as you desired. Forget about the past. Right now is a different time. Focus on this month. Check the guidelines for the publisher you’ve chosen. Look at the books they published. Do you like the illustrations on the covers? Are the books appealing to you?

If you’re like me, one of your finished works says, “Send me to a publisher. Send me. Send me. I’m ready!” about 3 times a day (See picture above). It’s waited anxiously for submission for days, months, or years. Now is the time to send your manuscript to a publisher. How can you turn down your sweet manuscript?

You’ve decided to do it…

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Philosophy of Life

“If you think you can, or you think you can’t, you are probably right.” HENRY FORD

PBBadge2yr

Hold That Word

IrisD , my poem for Poetic Asides April 4 prompt

Sliding away from my thoughts
So close I almost catch it with my tongue
Yet blurring as I try to savor it
What is that nombre that I want
I toss out a random word, and yet
I long to capture the perfect one
You walk away and then, voila
The word whispers through my lips

Hay(na)ku 6 word poems

This is a new poetic form that was presented on Robert Brewer’s blog Poetic Asides on Writers Digest.  First line is one word, second line two, third line three.  Simple but can be profound.  Here are five of my crude attempts.

laughter                                                                debt

better shared                                                       never stops

makes heart glad                                                always growing

war

lives lost

mayhem and carnage

 

hi                                                                    drought

goodbye                                                        sizzling heat

miss you always                                          no rain near

Big Bird Sings to Mirror

Z Y X W V U T,
S R Q P O N M L K,
J I H,
G F E,
D and C B A.
? me with sing you won’t time Next

Death Row

 

This cell is as cold as Michigan winters,

hard as the highways I did travel.                                      

For months I have been captured,

assigned to this blank cubicle.

My mind alone is allowed to escape,

To explore the world beyond these bars.

Strangers read my mail, order my day,

set my routines, cook my meals.

The only decision left to me is

whether to open my eyes,

or to feign sleep when they bring my tray.

The bars are on my hospital bed;

my ward is in a retirement home.

The wardens are my nurses;

my sentence is life.

In death I will once again

be free to wander and explore.

I embrace death,

that I might have life once more.

April Poetry Award

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