*all submissions due March 31, 2026 – additional submission details found at the bottom of the page*
Few, if any, digital platforms extend readers the most basic of courtesies: a chance to dig in without intrusion—without a peripheral swarm of “content” jamming its way into one’s eyeballs. For the calculating tech bro ethos behind these outlets, breathing room to crystallize perspective is a thing of the past. There’s simply no money to be made in it.
This plundering bums us out, and so we have devised our own modest countermeasure: Anemone, a print-only magazine devoted to the imperiled analog perspective. We aim to pack it with gutsy creative nonfiction; impactful reportage; short stories that hint at the pitfalls of today and poetry that teaches us how to live tomorrow; photography and art one can’t help but tack to a wall until the paper yellows.
Through this contest, we’re combing the state for unheralded voices, limiting entries to Montana residents past and present. While there is no age restriction, it is our hope younger-skewing writers comprise a solid chunk of submissions.
This is not to devalue or discredit the talent, wisdom, and lived context offered by seasoned voices. We will publish the very best writing we receive, even if it jeopardizes our preference for generational balance. Even so, we won’t deny our partiality to voices emerging from the disquiet of contemplating a long, unpredictable future on an increasingly wounded, unreliable planet. Which is to say nothing of where most young (and new) writers find their commentary relegated in 2026: self-published Medium and Substack blogs, the occasional long-form Twitter post, and other ephemeral outlets in which an algorithm determines much of the eventual visibility (and, in some sense, worth).
We want to carve print space for the first generations to have microplastics lodged into their genitals (through no fault of their own). We want to make tangible the perspective of those who have grown up knowing they could be riddled with bullets in a classroom. Room for people who have been denied loving their buccal fat—let alone even knowing what buccal fat is—and who have only tasted fruit sorted by laser guns and barcodes. Those who cannot abide when genocide is explained away by the geopolitics of long-dead statesmen, or when untold wildlife is razed for more rent-only condos, data centers, and cobalt mines. For the first souls living in a world where all art, writing, and music is suspect, never without the possibility of having been produced by the unliving circuitry of a machine.
We recognize it is ambitious to spawn such a project in wee Bozeman, Montana, where print media more typically centers wildlife photography, luxury real estate, guides to outdoor sport, and celebrities undergoing cowboy metamorphoses after buying a “ranch.” To many, success in breaking from these niches would appear unlikely, and why shouldn’t it? It’s not unreasonable to suggest that for a community of its size, Bozeman ranks among the most cocooned in the Lower 48. Vast population gulfs to our east, west, north, and south—coupled with bottomless outdoor rec (and wondrous binge drinking)—offer reprieve from even the most acute unrest felt elsewhere.
We hold faith this insulation hasn’t dulled the writing chops endemic to the area—that no matter how much psychic energy is burned praying for snow to ski and lamenting the construction of coworking spaces for Yellowstone enthusiasts, our corner of the universe can still muster some of the most shrewd, dynamic insight out there (and with a dose of Montana attitude to boot).
We are prepared to pay a grand-prize recipient $2,500 for their efforts in creative non-fiction or short fiction. Those willing to whip up a compelling report despite a tight deadline can vie for the same prize pot. An additional $500 is reserved for a top poet. Payment on a per-word and per-poem basis is available for select runners up. Photographers and visual artists will also have a piece of the action.
A few words to the wise: use AI to originate work and you will be choked out with a Full Nelson, then disqualified; win, lose, or even bother to submit, stay off the Internet as much as your lifestyle can reasonably allow.
CLICK HERE FOR FULL SUBMISSION GUIDELINES & SUBMISSION PORTAL
