Wine Bottles

WELCOME TO VINEYARD LITERARY

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Mud by Amy Mackin

"The six houses on our street each sat on a graduated incline, but our slope was the sharpest, it being on the crest. Hiding spots were hard to find."

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CURRENT SUBMISSIONS PERIODS

ISSUE THREE GENERAL SUBMISSIONS | FICTION, NONFICTION, AND POETRY

-CLOSING MAY 5TH 2022

2022 FICTION AND POETRY CONTEST | FICTION AND POETRY

-CLOSING MARCH 15TH 2022

VINES PRINT ANTHOLOGY

-CLOSING JUNE 30TH 2022

Picturesque Walk

WE ARE OPEN FOR SUBMISSIONS

ABOUT US

Welcome to Vineyard Literary, an online venue for excellent fiction, poetry, and artwork. When submitting to us, consider the initial connotations of a vineyard: the rolling fields, vines, the golden sun, grapes distilled to wine of all kinds—salted, dry, sweet, peppered—and the delicious food pairings that wine can have. Consider the pound of cool rain, the drip of sweat and powder of dry dirt beneath bare feet, and restaurants with glitzy patios, humans joining together for tastings, clinking glasses, laughter.

Then consider the darker connotations. Crushing and barreling. Pretention, snobbery, people drinking entire dollar bottles from plastic cups alone, the implications if grapes had voices and could scream. Consider what lurks in the silent fields at night, or the vintage labels only available to millionaires and politicians, and what those bottles would witness from their shelves.

After that, consider what we haven’t considered. For everything we’ve said above, there’s infinite connotations and moments that went unsaid, unwitnessed, untasted. Give us those, too.

Most of all, Vineyard just wants to get drunk on good story.