The wait's over: our 2022 Creative Non-Fiction Contest longlist is here! Congratulations to these twelve writers, and our sincerest gratitude to all those who submitted work to this year’s contest. ---- Room Magazine’s 2022 Creative Non-Fiction Contest Longlist Girl...
Photo by Kristine Cofsky --- Room’s 2022 Creative Non-Fiction Contest will be judged by Luna M. Ferguson! Luna Ferguson is an actor, writer, and producer. Their writing and advocacy efforts have been featured in international publications including HuffPost, VICE,...
The results are finally here! Here are the winning entries to our Creative Non-Fiction Contest as selected by our esteemed judge, Dr. Njoki Wane. A major congrats to these three writers! Here are what our judge has to say about the winning submissions: First Place:...
I Can Feel Him Breathing is the honourable mention for the 2021 Creative Non-Fiction Contest, as selected by Judge Dr. Njoki Wane. _____________ In the morning I stand in front of the bedroom closet, half-dressed, wrestling with the sliding door. The door won’t...
We know you've been waiting with bated breath. Here it is: the shortlist for the 2021 Creative Non-Fiction Contest. Many thanks, again, to all those who entered, and to our wonderful judge, Dr. Njoki Wane. Congratulations to the five writers whose contest submissions...
It's finally here: our 2021 Creative Non-Fiction Contest longlist! Congratulations to these thirteen writers, and a heartfelt thank you to all those who submitted work to this year's contest. Light and Shadow: One Painting, Two Lives, Emily McKibbon Zebrafish, Neive...
The 2021 Creative Non-Fiction Contest judge is award-winning educator, researcher, and writer, Dr. Njoki Wane. Dr. Wane has consistently used her positions in academia and policy-making to advance an agenda of equity and an intersectional approach. She is also the...
My introverted grandfather used a code to let my extraverted grandmother know when he was running out of steam at parties: fists by his side meant he had some energy; one fist in the air, spotted across the room, meant he was running on steam; both raised above his head meant he was finished and had no energy left for socialization.
Amidst all the swirling anxieties of the pandemic, I had almost forgotten I was brown. I had forgotten that the eyes looking out from above my mask were deep inky pools which so often failed to reflect familiarity and belonging.I had forgotten that, while my hands were gloved and hidden, my sepia arms betrayed my origins in a sun-washed and sun-dried land.
from LooseLeaf Magazine In 2015 I had a wild dream to start a publication for pan-Asian writers and artists, and that winter, in partnership with a bunch of equally naive and down-for-anything Asian creatives, LooseLeaf Magazine emerged. Like a lot of other grassroots...