Piltdown Resteth . . . sort of

Piltdown Resteth . . . sort of
Photographs from Bigstock. Photo montage by William Shunn.

We hope your 2018 was as all-around outstanding as ours here at The Piltdown Review. Since our debut in May, we’ve been reading nonstop, which has led to the publication of 20 short stories, 34 poems, and two essays by 33 different writers. We’ve also been running our first fiction contest, which just closed, and the reading for that is already underway.

All of which is by way of saying, it’s time for a little break. We already have stories and poems in the publication queue through April, and there’s a heap of manuscripts still to read, not to mention a contest to judge.

Don’t get us wrong—we’re not complaining. We love reading submissions and digging up the next fine Piltdown specimens. But it’s time to close to new submissions for a few months while we catch up.

So what will 2019 bring? We can’t wait for you to see the great new work we have lined up—starting tomorrow with Carolyn Oliver’s terrific and unusual Florida story, “Space Coast”—and meanwhile we plan to take all our reading and editing down to the beach and unplug for a while.

Happy New Year, and thanks for reading!  

          

               

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This Sentence Is a Metaphor for Bridge

from This Sentence Is a Metaphor for Bridge

We’re here because we trust that you won’t leave, because these fallen leaves distort death’s face.
From Our Point of View We Had Moved to the Left

From Our Point of View We Had Moved to the Left

From 1993 comes this prescient political fable of an alternate American future eerily like our own.
Lloyd’s Neck/Slink

Lloyd’s Neck/Slink

Scrupulous, astute: to the City he was sent (by) and sometimes went (with) Master Henry to shoehorn deals.

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