Advertise with Us

Conjunctions offers print and online advertising opportunities. For all advertisements, invoices are issued upon receipt of the ad, and payment is due prior to ad publication.

 
ONLINE ADVERTISING

To ensure maximum exposure, each ad featured on Conjunctions’ website appears on our homepage, on the front pages of our Online, Selected Texts, and Multimedia sections, and on all conjunctions.com pages within our Store, Advertise, About Us, and Support sections. Reservations for online ad space may be made at any time by emailing conjunctions@bard.edu.

Online ad rates

  • One month: $300
  • Two months: $500

Online ad specs

  • Format: JPG, GIF, or TIFF
  • Color: RGB
  • Ad height: 227 pixels (a small amount of wiggle room is allowed for ad height)
  • Ad width: exactly 271 pixels
  • Resolution: 72ppi
 
PRINT ADVERTISING
Ad space is available in each spring and fall issue of Conjunctions. For spring issues, ads must be received by March 1, and we recommend reserving space no later than February 1. For fall issues, ads must be received by September 1, and we recommend reserving ad space no later than August 1.
 

Print ad rates

  • Full-page ad: $150
  • Two facing full-page ads: $250


Print ad specs

  • Format: TIFF (preferred) or JPG only—no PDFs, please
  • Color: CMYK grayscale / B&W
  • Ad dimensions: exactly 4.5"W X 7.5"H, (Trim size: 6"W X 9"H)
  • Resolution: Minimum 300ppi

Please contact us if you are interested in placing an ad, or if you wish to be advised of the themes or contributors for upcoming issues.

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Submissions

In Print

Vol. 75
Dispatches from Solitude
Fall 2020
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

April 14, 2021
When you think of white do you think of Rembrandt
in darkness          pockmarked     a sieve or a monkfish
Ahead now     ahead then:       ash        scrub pine        shade
and Penny –– then twelve        then my brother’s sole friend 
April 7, 2021
To sing’s to field thought’s
failed arrow, then drop it,

as sadness surprises,
as always, then doesn’t,

its record all rumors, bits
of lithic in its meat,
March 31, 2021
Underneath the electric microscope frass gathered like a word no one could pronounce, or something children left in a cage. Sugar ants were gorging on the corpse of a cicada next to the front door. Soon four golden mounds were theirs, to carry back in their lemony bellies to the queen. I have a box of nine suns set on spikes, a pair of gray bags concealing speakers. I am your teacher, said the teacher, alone in a room. If there is a predicate to this.
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