Terms and conditions

The Brain Drip website is operated by Robert Duplock, the publisher of the Brain Drip literary magazine.

This page outlines the terms and conditions of using the Brain Drip website. By using the Brain Drip website, you agree to the terms and conditions set out below.


Unfortunately we are currently unable to offer payment, although we do hope to work on a funding model soon. 


Work submitted to Brain drip remains the property of the person or persons who have submitted the work. We do not claim ownership or copyright over submitted works. If you submit your work to us, and agree to these terms and conditions, it is assumed you have given us permission to publish your work. "Work" is defined as a short story, essay, poem or book review submitted to this website through the online submission system.

This website and its contents are subject to copyright through the laws of Australia and, through international treaties, other countries. The copyright in materials on this site may be owned by Robert Duplock or by third parties. If you wish to reproduce material from the site, please contact us through our Contact Form to clarify copyright status. 


Brain Drip uses your email address and other personal information only for the purpose for which you have provided it.

The Brain Drip website may use Google Analytics to collect anonymous data about users, including demographics and interests. This data will never be merged with personally identifiable information. If you do not wish this information to be collected, please note that Google Analytics provides a range of methods to opt-out.

If you wish to remove your account and / or works submitted to this site, you may do so by contacting us through our Contact Form.

Popular on Brain drip

A Man Of His Word

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His guts churn something shocking, so he reaches for the pills and washes down a couple with a good clump of spit. The knot loosens, relief flushes. The kitchen sink is clean. Did the dishes last night. Do the dishes and wake up to a clean caravan. New man, new decisions. Sign of things to come. 

The sun chases him over the mattress until one more roll will see him face plant the floor. Been a while since it’s had a mop. Plus, imagine yelling out to the other long termers and asking to help lift him up: all six-four inches and a hundred odd kilos. 

Round Peg, Square Hole

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I had always known that there was something ‘abnormal’ about myself, something that was a little off-kilter. I can’t quite grasp whether this manifested as positive or negative, but I know that I didn’t fit in; my early memories are that of being a square peg, an unfortunate position. Unfortunate because society offered me naught but a round hole.