About Brain drip

Brain drip is an online Australian literary magazine. It's free to read and we accept unsolicited submissions. We publish short stories, poetry, creative essays and book reviews.

Here at Brain drip, we know it’s not easy starting something new, trying something different. We’re pretty darn excited by the challenge though! We love the idea of a writing forum that is accessible and open for everyone, looking at writing on its merits alone. That's why we don't charge you to submit work to us, we don't have any memberships, and we blind read all submissions. 

Brain drip: Australia's writing.

Interested in submitting?

 

Brain drip is run by a small staff of dedicated volunteers.

 

 

 

Keira Sinclair
Keira is the short story editor at Brain drip. She is also involved in many other academic and creative projects such as fiction and creative nonfiction, and runs English workshops at The University of Sydney. Her short fiction has been published internationally.

 

 

Rob Duplock
Rob Duplock is the managing editor of Brain drip. When he's not working on this here lit mag or working 9-5 as a web developer, he enjoys reading, writing and arithmetic - in that order.

 

 

Stevi-Lee Alver
Stevi-Lee Alver is the poetry editor at Brain drip. She has been awarded various writing prizes in Australia and the United States. More recently, her work has appeared in Overland, Westerly Magazine, Southerly, The Gay & Lesbian Review Worldwide and Australian Book Review.

 

Popular on Brain drip

Office Jetlag

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His face was trapped in the ceiling tiles above my computer. I stared at the roof, feeling the bile rise up in my throat. I hadn’t noticed it at first. The line on the bottom could have been anyone’s smile, and the two black dots among the white plaster could have been anyone’s eyes. But after he had leaned over my desk the first time, shouting at me, I stared at the ceiling tile straight afterwards and ever since pictured the outline of his face every time I looked at it.

Closer In

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You show up in Parnawarratji and try to arrange the single loop of sealed road, the vacant red dirt lots and the dotted housing with massive metal cages on the front, into a ‘community’ in your mind. It isn’t what you were expecting, but then, you didn’t know what to expect. Certainly not so much sky, arcing over the horizon, the line blurred by a hazy fringe of spinifex grass.