Cover Art Competition 2015

We were so pleased with the results of last year’s cover art competition, and are excited to announce the kickoff of this year’s. This is an open photography competition for anyone of any age, and will determine the cover of 2015’s issue of Doxa.  Last year’s winner and honorable mentions can be seen here.

While the artwork within the pages of Doxa can only be published in black and white, we request that color photos be submitted for the competition.  Photographs must be at least 300 dpi resolution to be usable.  The winning picture will be selected by the editors of the journal.

To enter a photo for consideration, please e-mail it as a .jpeg to lgraves.doxa@gmail.com, along with your name and mailing address, so that the winner of the competition may receive a free copy of the journal in which he or she is published.  The deadline for submissions to this competition will be April 30th.

Call for Submissions 2015

Submissions have now opened for this year’s issue of Doxa, to be published in the fall.  The deadline for entries will be April 30, 2015.  The editors welcome material from any college undergraduates.  (For more submission criteria, please look under the “Submit” page.)  We accept submissions of:

Fiction

Poetry

Essays

Artwork (black and white photography and drawing)

A $100 award will be given for the editors’ choice of the top submission in each category.

Please send all submissions or questions to Lgraves.doxa@gmail.com

All submissions must be received by April 30, 2015.

Picture for Website

“The Only Thing to Fear” by Sarah Coons

She heard the stomping of feet heading towards her room, but it was too late for any sort of reaction. With guilty eyes, she glanced up at her mother standing in the doorway of her bedroom.

“Helen, haven’t you finished dressing for bed yet?”

“Sorry, Mum,” she murmured, absently adjusting the apron on her favorite doll, who’d just a moment ago been hiding from the scary paper planes that flew overhead and dropped blocks from the ceiling.

Her mother sighed and quietly took the doll from her hands, gently caressing the yarn hair from the toy’s face. “Why do you make believe about the bombings?” she inquired softly. “Don’t you realize how dangerous they are?”
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“The Author’s Story” by Jenny Larsson

It was one that he had for quite some time, this idea. There was abundant excitement, yet he wanted it to be perfect, and it would be. With pen poised, he hesitated before the tip kissed the page. The words flowed as he created his masterpiece of words, and the story came to life. His life was good and he was content, but there was something more that he wanted. This is why he decided to write this story.

His talent for writing was unrivaled and without error. He used words to paint stunning settings of leaf adorned trees and feathery ivory clouds, all set to the tune of birds singing harmoniously. He created roaring, deafening rivers with foam that hugged the edges. He created this magnificent world with mere words, but his prized creation came in a less perfect form. When he created the characters of his story, he made them each with a flaw so that they would have to rely on him, the author. He watched as these characters that he fashioned made mistakes and slowly corrupted the lovely world that he had made for them. There was sadness in his heart as he watched these characters that he made so precisely, distort what he created and become unhappy with their lives and with themselves. You see, the problem was that they had gotten so caught up in the story and had forgotten about him, the author.
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Poetry by Alex Keener

Eyes of the Cynic

When humanity looks unto the sky,
All stars their eyes reflect understanding;
The greatest of us knowledge hold most high,
And minds expand, universe closer bring.
All the world’s heart is locked within a cage,
Shackled within the cynic’s clouded eyes.
The kings and queens and leaders of the age
Deny their Lord, who did all things devise.
The One who rules all must be over all;
A hand in everything, but ‘throned above,
Shrouded from the Universe since the Fall.
Though He’s unseen, the cosmos bleeds His Love.
O Lord, may our eyes meet across the veil,
And may Your Wisdom over ours prevail.
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