Portland Review is accepting submissions until September 30th, 2018. To receive updates, please click here to subscribe to our newsletter.

Portland Review has been publishing exceptional prose, poetry, and art since 1956. For over sixty years, Portland Review has promoted the works of emerging writers and artists alongside the works of well-established authors. It is the editors' mission to publish unique voices and quality writing, and to communicate the multitudes of Portland by promoting the voices of those often pushed out of the literary mainstay. Before submitting, we encourage you check out our past print issues and online content, to familiarize yourself with Portland Review's history and to get an idea of the writing and art that interests us. 

To submit, please delete any identifying information from your manuscript (unless it is necessary to the content of your nonfiction). Please also include a word count in your cover letter, and indicate whether your work is a simultaneous submission. All work will be considered for publication in our upcoming print issue as well as on our website. If you prefer to be considered for print only or web publication only, please specify in your cover letter.

Please note Portland Review does not accept previously published material. Portland Review accepts simultaneous submissions, but please immediately withdraw your work via Submittable if it is accepted elsewhere. If one work out of a collection of poems or images needs to be withdrawn but the other works in the collection are still available, message us via Submittable with the title of the withdrawn piece.

Unless the editors have solicited work from you directly, we ask all students of Portland State University's creative writing program to wait four years after graduating to submit to Portland Review.

Portland Review compensates all print contributors with one copy of the issue in which their work appears, and offers contributors additional copies at a discounted rate.

By submitting your work to Portland Review, you confirm that you hold full copyright on all work submitted and agree to allow Portland Review print and distribution rights for both print and online publication. All rights to the piece(s) revert to the authors and artists upon publication, although we kindly request that you credit Portland Review as the initial publisher should the piece(s) be reprinted elsewhere. You also permit the editors of Portland Review to edit your work, within reason. Authors and artists will be contacted regarding edits prior to publication.

All submissions are read between October and November, so you can expect to hear back from us then. Thank you for contributing. We look forward to reading your work!

Sincerely,
The Editors
Portland Review

Ends on September 30, 2018

Portland Review publishes traditional, experimental, flash, and genre-bending stories up to 3,000 words. We will only consider one submission per author per reading period. Unless otherwise necessary for the piece, please double-space your work and use a standard (Times New Roman or equivalent) 12-point font.

Theme for the 2019 anthology:

“I thought of all the hidden spaces: the sewers, the closets, the lightless stomachs and wombs. Warehouses where stock sits silent, the dark interior of a Mickey Mouse costume, the caves of hibernating bears. I imagined the great diffuse blandness of these spaces, soft and dark like a concussion...”

—Alexandra Kleeman, You Too Can Have a Body Like Mine

Portland Review welcomes submissions of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, art, and mixed-genre works for its 2019 themed anthology, Unchartable: On Environmental Unknowns. It is the nature of the human mind to seek, to touch, to understand and occupy vast unknowable terrains, but which of our daily environments resist comprehension? From July 1st through September 30th, the Portland Review editors are looking for unknowable psychological landscapes, confounding emotional habitats, the shapeless environs of both speculation and perception, those territories where mind and body, physical and psychological, meet and cohabitate without reconciliation. We are seeking works that inhabit or wrestle with unchartable domains and the anomalies of the organic and the fabricated. Our editors and readers will readily consider climate fiction (cli-fi), eco-literature, nature poetry and art for publication, but we also encourage our submitters to think about the 2019 theme in terms of...

  • The Spatial. Ecological spaces can be local or global, micro or macro, each defined by different organisms, politics, histories, and cultures. We welcome work that examines and discovers environmental anomalies in the world, whether those spaces be planetary in scope or focused on a single location or relationship, physical or psychological.
  • Perspective. Climate change is often aligned with the end of the world, and the apocalypse in some ways becomes an anticipatory state. How might the end of ecosystems be related to time as a vantage point from which we observe and anticipate? Change is about disintegration and ruin, yes, but it is also about empathy and the relationships between individuals, communities, nonhumans, and nature.
  • The Unknown. Consider mystery, doubt, uncertainty, concealment, and the distinction between perceiving and knowing. How might “unknowing” familiar environments deepen and complicate your writing or art? Where can wondering, wandering, and crookedness bring a reader that the straight and well-lit road cannot?

For over sixty years, Portland Review has published the works of emerging writers and artists alongside the works of well-established authors. We warmly encourage previously unpublished writers and artists to submit, and we aim to support work by those often marginalized in the artistic conversation, including (though certainly not limited to) people of color, women, differently-abled people, LGBTQIA people, and people with intersectional identities.

Ends on September 30, 2018

Portland Review publishes narrative nonfiction, personal essays, memoir, flash, and interview up to 3,000 words. We will only consider one submission per author per reading period. Unless otherwise necessary for the piece, please double-space your work and use a standard (Times New Roman or equivalent) 12-point font.

Theme for the 2019 anthology:

“I thought of all the hidden spaces: the sewers, the closets, the lightless stomachs and wombs. Warehouses where stock sits silent, the dark interior of a Mickey Mouse costume, the caves of hibernating bears. I imagined the great diffuse blandness of these spaces, soft and dark like a concussion...”

—Alexandra Kleeman, You Too Can Have a Body Like Mine

Portland Review welcomes submissions of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, art, and mixed-genre works for its 2019 themed anthology, Unchartable: On Environmental Unknowns. It is the nature of the human mind to seek, to touch, to understand and occupy vast unknowable terrains, but which of our daily environments resist comprehension? From July 1st through September 30th, the Portland Review editors are looking for unknowable psychological landscapes, confounding emotional habitats, the shapeless environs of both speculation and perception, those territories where mind and body, physical and psychological, meet and cohabitate without reconciliation. We are seeking works that inhabit or wrestle with unchartable domains and the anomalies of the organic and the fabricated. Our editors and readers will readily consider climate fiction (cli-fi), eco-literature, nature poetry and art for publication, but we also encourage our submitters to think about the 2019 theme in terms of...

  • The Spatial. Ecological spaces can be local or global, micro or macro, each defined by different organisms, politics, histories, and cultures. We welcome work that examines and discovers environmental anomalies in the world, whether those spaces be planetary in scope or focused on a single location or relationship, physical or psychological.
  • Perspective. Climate change is often aligned with the end of the world, and the apocalypse in some ways becomes an anticipatory state. How might the end of ecosystems be related to time as a vantage point from which we observe and anticipate? Change is about disintegration and ruin, yes, but it is also about empathy and the relationships between individuals, communities, nonhumans, and nature.
  • The Unknown. Consider mystery, doubt, uncertainty, concealment, and the distinction between perceiving and knowing. How might “unknowing” familiar environments deepen and complicate your writing or art? Where can wondering, wandering, and crookedness bring a reader that the straight and well-lit road cannot?

For over sixty years, Portland Review has published the works of emerging writers and artists alongside the works of well-established authors. We warmly encourage previously unpublished writers and artists to submit, and we aim to support work by those often marginalized in the artistic conversation, including (though certainly not limited to) people of color, women, differently-abled people, LGBTQIA people, and people with intersectional identities.

Ends on September 30, 2018

Portland Review will consider submissions with up to three poems. Poems must be contained within a single document of no more than ten pages in total length. Unless otherwise necessary for the piece, please use a standard (Times New Roman or equivalent) 12-point font. Any poems that do not adhere to Portland Review's guidelines and theme will be declined unread.

Theme for the 2019 anthology:

“I thought of all the hidden spaces: the sewers, the closets, the lightless stomachs and wombs. Warehouses where stock sits silent, the dark interior of a Mickey Mouse costume, the caves of hibernating bears. I imagined the great diffuse blandness of these spaces, soft and dark like a concussion...”

—Alexandra Kleeman, You Too Can Have a Body Like Mine

Portland Review welcomes submissions of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, art, and mixed-genre works for its 2019 themed anthology, Unchartable: On Environmental Unknowns. It is the nature of the human mind to seek, to touch, to understand and occupy vast unknowable terrains, but which of our daily environments resist comprehension? From July 1st through September 30th, the Portland Review editors are looking for unknowable psychological landscapes, confounding emotional habitats, the shapeless environs of both speculation and perception, those territories where mind and body, physical and psychological, meet and cohabitate without reconciliation. We are seeking works that inhabit or wrestle with unchartable domains and the anomalies of the organic and the fabricated. Our editors and readers will readily consider climate fiction (cli-fi), eco-literature, nature poetry and art for publication, but we also encourage our submitters to think about the 2019 theme in terms of...

  • The Spatial. Ecological spaces can be local or global, micro or macro, each defined by different organisms, politics, histories, and cultures. We welcome work that examines and discovers environmental anomalies in the world, whether those spaces be planetary in scope or focused on a single location or relationship, physical or psychological.
  • Perspective. Climate change is often aligned with the end of the world, and the apocalypse in some ways becomes an anticipatory state. How might the end of ecosystems be related to time as a vantage point from which we observe and anticipate? Change is about disintegration and ruin, yes, but it is also about empathy and the relationships between individuals, communities, nonhumans, and nature.
  • The Unknown. Consider mystery, doubt, uncertainty, concealment, and the distinction between perceiving and knowing. How might “unknowing” familiar environments deepen and complicate your writing or art? Where can wondering, wandering, and crookedness bring a reader that the straight and well-lit road cannot?

For over sixty years, Portland Review has published the works of emerging writers and artists alongside the works of well-established authors. We warmly encourage previously unpublished writers and artists to submit, and we aim to support work by those often marginalized in the artistic conversation, including (though certainly not limited to) people of color, women, differently-abled people, LGBTQIA people, and people with intersectional identities.

For our upcoming print issue, we will consider full-color and black and white, high-contrast images for the interior and cover. If you wish to be our featured artist, please submit at least six different images in one submission. All images will also be considered for publication on our website.

Please only submit work for print publication if you have high-quality, high-resolution digital formats available. If you are unable to provide high-resolution files, your work will only be considered for web publication.

Theme for the 2019 anthology:

“I thought of all the hidden spaces: the sewers, the closets, the lightless stomachs and wombs. Warehouses where stock sits silent, the dark interior of a Mickey Mouse costume, the caves of hibernating bears. I imagined the great diffuse blandness of these spaces, soft and dark like a concussion...”

—Alexandra Kleeman, You Too Can Have a Body Like Mine

Portland Review welcomes submissions of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, art, and mixed-genre works for its 2019 themed anthology, Unchartable: On Environmental Unknowns. It is the nature of the human mind to seek, to touch, to understand and occupy vast unknowable terrains, but which of our daily environments resist comprehension? From July 1st through September 30th, the Portland Review editors are looking for unknowable psychological landscapes, confounding emotional habitats, the shapeless environs of both speculation and perception, those territories where mind and body, physical and psychological, meet and cohabitate without reconciliation. We are seeking works that inhabit or wrestle with unchartable domains and the anomalies of the organic and the fabricated. Our editors and readers will readily consider climate fiction (cli-fi), eco-literature, nature poetry and art for publication, but we also encourage our submitters to think about the 2019 theme in terms of...

  • The Spatial. Ecological spaces can be local or global, micro or macro, each defined by different organisms, politics, histories, and cultures. We welcome work that examines and discovers environmental anomalies in the world, whether those spaces be planetary in scope or focused on a single location or relationship, physical or psychological.
  • Perspective. Climate change is often aligned with the end of the world, and the apocalypse in some ways becomes an anticipatory state. How might the end of ecosystems be related to time as a vantage point from which we observe and anticipate? Change is about disintegration and ruin, yes, but it is also about empathy and the relationships between individuals, communities, nonhumans, and nature.
  • The Unknown. Consider mystery, doubt, uncertainty, concealment, and the distinction between perceiving and knowing. How might “unknowing” familiar environments deepen and complicate your writing or art? Where can wondering, wandering, and crookedness bring a reader that the straight and well-lit road cannot?

For over sixty years, Portland Review has published the works of emerging writers and artists alongside the works of well-established authors. We warmly encourage previously unpublished writers and artists to submit, and we aim to support work by those often marginalized in the artistic conversation, including (though certainly not limited to) people of color, women, differently-abled people, LGBTQIA people, and people with intersectional identities.

Ends on September 30, 2018

Reviews of books or collections of poetry, fiction, and nonfiction under 2,000 words are welcome. Please only submit reviews of books that were published in 2017, 2018, or are scheduled to be published in 2018 or 2019. We are especially interested in reviews of books by debut authors. All reviews must be professional and impartial. If you, the reviewer, have any personal or professional connection to the book author, please state so in your cover letter.

Portland Review