Submissions for Issue 38 – Winter 2020 will be open between December 15th, 2019 – January 15th 2020. We will be accepting submissions on the theme Visible / Invisible. Get ready to send us your creative-Non Fiction (by Quebec residents), Fiction, Poetry, Translations, Photography and Comics. Read more →
The managing editor works closely with the editor-in-chief to help steer the magazine forward. The successful candidate will support and coordinate the editorial team in all aspects of production and promotion of three issues per year. In particular, they will oversee logistical matters relating to the successful and timely publication of every issue. This includes maintaining correspondence with authors, drafting author contracts and ensuring they are signed, managing submissions on Submittable, and uploading and formatting content for each issue. Read more →
I wonder sometimes if navigating the line between fiction and non-fiction and being steadily clear on which side of this line you’re on is a curse only authors of marginalized backgrounds and identities must balance on. The logic holds because, to my knowledge, non-marginalized authors are not asked about the truth in their fiction or the imagination in their memoirs: No one asks French-Canadian Booker winning author Yann Martel about his experiences living on a boat for 227 days with a tiger and a zebra. No one wonders if Elizabeth Gilbert inserted a bit of fiction into her memoir of eating pasta, practicing Shavasana, and drinking wine with a warm-blooded Latin lover.
Having entered the professional writing community slightly later in life, outside of an academic environment, and in a province that still felt new to me, I would have felt adrift if it wasn’t for Montreal’s literary scene. The sheer number of cultural events happening at any given time makes it nearly impossible not to engage with, and therefore, finding a community doesn’t become an insurmountable task. Read more →
Borders. They can separate and define geographical locations and boundaries. Borders can be literal or invisible to the eye. Politics, language, ideology, philosophy, poetics, religion, family, sexuality, culture, all of these ideas exist within and without borders. What happens when we cross a border? When we step outside our comfort zones or are made to check a box? Read more →
Whether or not to separate the art from the artist is often debated as though an abstract idea, yet, any decision produces tangible repercussions. Many discussions fail to consider that different responses may be warranted when focusing on the work of living artists, who use the power and platforms gained from their artistic success to cause harm. Upon discovering that authors we support are predatory, we have a decision to make on how we will interact with them as readers.
Poetry Editor—the editor works both independently and in collaboration with the editorial team to help steer the magazine forward. The successful candidate would lead the poetry section of carte blanche for three issues per year (winter, spring/summer and fall). In particular, they would read all poetry submissions received, organize submissions and respond to authors through Submittable. They would also copyedit and suggest more substantial changes to poetry accepted for publication, when necessary. Because carte blanche is based in Montreal and publishes French texts in translation, knowledge of both English and French is an asset for this position. Excellent copyediting skills and keen attention to detail are key. Above all, we seek a passionate fan of literature and art—someone who has a love for narrative in their DNA.
I find myself stuck on nineteen words these days, repeating in my mind, filling every last inch of space. They have bonded themselves to my TO-DO LIST, like cloud to sun, blocking out encroaching deadlines, commitments, the need to buy milk on my way home. They have raised themselves like a wall around my mind… a blockade between me and my own words.
Nineteen words said Wednesday night by a very dear friend, over dinner in this broken city: