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.

Connect

In Print

Conjunctions:75

Dispatches from Solitude

Fall 2020
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

All Cities Burn

by Katharine Coldiron

November 25, 2020

The smell was profound, suffocating, singular. My skin and clothes stank until I washed them; I had to stop at a gas station and wet my shoes under a faucet and scrub them with disintegrating Kleenex because the smell hung so potently in my car. It was dead fish and bird droppings and the bottom edge of a body of water, brought to the light and baked too hot. I once visited a blooming corpse flower at the Huntington and it smelled alive, at least. This was death of a hundred kinds braided together.

Three Poems

by Elizabeth Robinson

November 18, 2020

Where there is no fact, there can be no consolation.

We chose to be plural in the presumed grace of what

is presumed to be moving in the dark.

Nuntle Shtuli

by C. P. Boyko

November 11, 2020

You, Shtuli, went to a school and sang a few songs.
            The children, with skybright eyes, listened rapt, their mouths hanging moistly open.

Strumming my balalaika, I, Shtuli, sang.

Shtuli, you asked Asfalyi, your child, to come to a noisejazz concert with you.
            “I’d rather stay home and read my grimoire tonight, to be honest, Boombi,” Asfalyi said.
            “That’s all right,” you gloomily said. “I’ll go by myself.”