Temporary Hiatus and Submission Closure Notice
Dear Contributors and Readers,
I hope this message finds you well. I am writing to you today with a personal and significant update.
After much consideration, I have decided to put Pyre Magazine on a temporary hiatus, effective immediately. Consequently, we will be closing our doors to all submissions until Spring 2025. Though difficult, this decision was born out of a need to focus on my family and personal health, which require my full attention now.
Pyre Magazine has always been a labor of love, a platform where creativity and passion find a voice. With a heavy heart, I step back, but I do so with the belief that this pause is necessary for my well-being and, ultimately, for the future of our magazine.
During this period, we will not be publishing new content, and our editorial team will also take a break. No submissions sent in 2024 will be considered. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.
I sincerely appreciate your understanding and support during this time. Your contributions and readership have been the lifeblood of Pyre Magazine, and I am endlessly grateful for the community we have built together.
I look forward to reuniting with all of you in Spring 2025, rejuvenated and ready to reignite our shared passion for outstanding literature and art.
Thank you for your continued support and understanding.
Best wishes,
Ryan Thomas LaBee
Editor-in-Chief
Pyre Magazine
It’s here… it’s finally here!
FALL/WINTER 2023 Issue
Purchase Now!
Pyre Magazine Presents its first physical copy edition. 120 beautiful pages full of art, short stories, flash fiction, poetry, and nonfiction. In this slam-packed special edition, you'll find work from more than 30 artists.
Cover image, The Cemetery, created by Sylvain Daudier.
The first physical copy of Pyre Magazine drops on November 28th, and it’s STACKED!
A NOTE ON the 2023 SPRING AND SUMMER SUBMISSIONS
Dear Writers, Artists, and Constant Readers,
First and foremost, I would like to apologize to you. It has been a while since there have been any updates to Pyre, and many are still waiting to hear back from us regarding submissions from the beginning of this year, and for that, I am genuinely sorry. The truth is, I, Ryan, have been dealing with some personal health issues that have made it very difficult for me to engage with submissions and emails mentally. In case you don’t know, Pyre is a labor of love, and running the magazine is primarily a team of one… me. Unfortunately, due to needing to focus on my mental and physical health, I had to make the difficult decision to cancel the Spring and Summer 2023 issue because I did not have the time to give submissions the proper amount of time and consideration that they deserved.
That being said, if you have a submission with us and have not heard back, all spring and summer submissions will be considered for the fall/winter issue, which will now be a larger issue that covers the entire year. I know many of you are eager to hear back from us and are tired of waiting, and as a writer myself, I understand entirely. That is why Pyre is and has always been a magazine that allows for simultaneous submissions so that, at least while you are waiting, you can submit to other outlets.
I appreciate your understanding during this time. I plan to have the magazine running smoothly by the end of summer so that the fall/winter submission cycle will go off without a hitch.
Thank you.
Best wishes,
Ryan LaBee
Editor-in-Chief Pyre Magazine
Fall/Winter 2022
Coming: November 16th
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Item description
Spring/Summer 2022
contents
Spring/Summer Issue — 2022
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Denny E. Marshall — Steam Stomper
Evangeline Gallagher — The Goat
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Little Man — Matthew Mitchell
The little man was dead. Of that, both boys were certain. Some time passed before they came to this assumption, but the conclusion was unanimous. For one thing, the little man hadn't moved since they first came upon it in the forest. Not even after they crept up beside it and shouted. For another, blackish blood had pooled beneath the little man's body. Thin rivulets eked out across the stone on which it lay.
Thoughts Too Heavy To Carry — By Holley Cornetto
As the screen door slammed behind us, Momma called out a warning about swimming in the creek. “You’re likely to fall in and drown,” she said, “or get eat up by a cottonmouth.” She’d worried about snakes since I was six and she’d found me in the backyard hugging a rattler like a doll. “A miracle you didn’t get bit,” she’d told me over and over since. “Snake bites are mean; their poison seeps through your veins to your heart.”
Another Painting of Andromeda — BY TORI Rego
The young woman is sacrificed to the sea monster. Rich in detail, they clad her in silks that expose her nakedness, rather than hide it. Silks diamoned with salt. Silks fresh and pink as cherry blossoms. Her hair is done up in three braids that braid each other. They put her in chains, or they do not put her in chains, but she feels them tight around her wrists still. They pull her arms away from her body, stretching her muscles to pastures. Her body an enemy. Her body a continent.
You Can Never Offer Life — By Kevin M. Casin
A dish of strontium. A whiff of your brew. A drop of your semen. You’ll show the world sexuality doesn’t mean you’re barren. You will have your children. If even they’ll kill you.
Capricornus, the Bearded Lady — by Helena Pantsis
A goat appears by the far corner of the pasture. Its fur is matted, its skin coarse, its eyes bleary and watchful - the light reflects against them, glowing eerie and as a flame to broken glass. You've found it lurking in the barren pockets of day, the empty valleys of night with your nose pressed to the fogged up window, cold and opaque as milk.
Scordatura — By Xan van Rooyen
A calloused fingertip catches at my coiled skin. I shiver then hum, my voice a flat warble. A screw turns, stretching my sinews.
The Baby's Mother— by Alex DiFrancesco
It began with a drop of blood. She hadn’t been thinking. In fact, she hadn’t been sleeping or eating. It had been seven months since her last hair appointment, when she had gone, globe-stomached, and sat in a chair feeling the knead of the hairdresser’s fingers on her scalp as The Baby’s kicks thrummed against her, casting bumps on the smooth expanse of her flesh.
Flame of Knowledge — by D.K. Lawhorn
My ears fill with the flapping of a bird’s wings. The crow alights on its special perch outside my cell. I open my eyes to a world bathed in darkness, but not for much longer.
SlashGrindTerrorMachine — by Scott Cole
The switch to activate the SlashGrindTerrorMachine is located inside the mouth of the SlashGrindTerrorMachine. Unfortunately, the SlashGrindTerrorMachine sometimes activates itself without warning.