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:76

Fortieth Anniversary Issue

Spring 2021
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

Five Poems

by Amelia Van Donsel

August 4, 2021

I spot wind at the Texas inn where
my brother plays charcuterie, his head glowing with sweat.

As he peers into the cheese, my oblong sister
offers her face to violent vegetarians

and prognosticates the part about the bison;
indeed, this bison will have denied paradise to us

before we have even eaten.

Five Cantos

by Sherah Bloor

July 28, 2021

Sanjay’s stepmother enters the dining room and
his monitoring bracelet records a flutter in his pulse.
Dr. Cameron shows the assistant how he applies
an electrode to the surface of the patient’s brain.
She sees a mountain blow away like it’s sand.

After the Eye Surgery,

by Jesse Kohn

July 21, 2021

“Well, technically batshit,” I’d tell him, and I’d remind him that, seeing as we were trapped in this cave—“Cave?” he’d say, and I’d say, “Yeah, the cave we’re recovering from eye surgery in,” and he’d say, “Oh right”—and that seeing as we’d be thus—“pardon the expression,” I’d say—interred for at least as long as it took to recover, that the cave would be, for all intents and purposes, what we’d have to mean, from here on out, by the word world; and thus bats, who were the only creatures still flitting in and out of the cave’s narrow apertures and thereby participating in the larger ecosystem and importing to an otherwise inhospitable environment the most basic elements needed to sustain life, their excretions would need to be, for the foreseeable future, what we’d have to mean when we’d say sun.