Founded in 2000, The Heartland Review (ISSN: 2473-9545) is published in the spring and fall as an imprint of The Heartland Review Press. We accept submissions of poetry, fiction and non-fiction all throughout the year, but our reading periods generally take place in May-August and December -February. As a result, you can check the submittable database for updates and status changes. You will receive an email stating the disposition of your work at the end of the reading period. When possible, we will comment on pieces that didn’t quite fit. Our spring issue features the winners and finalists of our Joy Bale Boone Poetry Prize and selected prose. We hope to include electronic forms of past issues soon. We hope you will consider submitting.
GENERAL SUBMISSION INFO
We want work that presents a fresh approach to the human condition in experimental or traditional form. We do not accept translations. We consider established as well as emerging writers. We have reserved a section for younger artists in the past. We nominate for the Pushcart Prize!
When to submit: We accept original submissions of poetry, fiction and non-fiction all throughout the year, but our reading periods generally take place in May-July and December -February. We pull the files in May and December in order to prepare it for our editors to read. If you submit after we pull, your work will be reviewed during the next reading period.
Response time: We try to respond within 3 months but sometimes that isn't always possible. As a result, you can check the submittable database for updates and status changes. You will receive an email stating the disposition of your work at the end of the reading period. When possible, we will comment on pieces that didn’t quite fit.
Copyright: THR retains first North American serial rights and may use the submitted material to promote the journal and website.
Payment: THR pays 1 contributor copy mailed by USPS to the author of accepted works.
Poems: Submit 3 poems f any length or style to include traditional poetic forms.
Fiction: 1 fiction manuscripts that not exceed 5000 words.
Non-fiction: 1-2 non-fiction manuscripts that not exceed 3500 words.
Authors may submit only one entry per genre at a time. Multiple entries will be ignored.
ALL GENRES MUST FOLLOW THESE FORMATTING GUIDELINES:
1. Submissions must be in one Word compatible file (.docx, .doc, and .rtf). PDFs will be disqualified.
2. For fiction and nonfiction, the Word file must be double spaced uniformly. Do not put in extra spaces or have double with single spacing. Do not insert your own "enters" at the end of each line; ensure Word wraps the text automatically. Use left align, not justification. This helps the import and export of files.
3. The file should contain a cover page that includes a 30-40 word biography and contact information. Only include personal information in the cover page/letter; submissions with personal information on the pieces or on multiple pages will be automatically disqualified. This means do not put your name in a header or footer in your document. Any personal information on pages of manuscripts will automatically disqualify the entire submission.
3. The file name should include the date (year and month) and the author’s name. For example, 2018_6_John Smith. File names that do not include the date and author’s name will be disqualified. This helps us keep the files organized.
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The Heartland Review = ISSN: 2473-9545
They Say You See What You Want To
If it rains, park where the Sunday paper bubbles yellow,
soggy, and pink like throw-up on the pavement.
You might not catch a full sighting. An owl flying
over the road dangling a snake, but you’re still in the car
so it don’t count. Put your boots on and leave your bucket.
Step around the cotton balls and cut-in-half straws.
The lady at the last mailbox said nothing grows here
anymore, but people come to dump trash or sneak
through the empty house until they’re scared.
And because the bigfoot sketches are spitting image
first try. Keep walking, past a gave-up pick-up truck
and the bellies of garbage spilling from its bed
in bags full as skins, leaning, tumbling, piled up
like puppies pushing to milk between the axles.
Runts to the side bloated or sagging. What you
came to get don’t go by weight. A wild blackberry,
big as a glimpse, a pawpaw leaf pinned to the dusk.
Hike to the bridge and stop for a few push-ups. Makes
your eyes ready. Scout where the vampires painted
the concrete with stars and dripped wax and ate off
napkins. Feel the rebar yearning loose? Ditty bags
and pint bottles hanging there like meat curing.
Hear the bluebirds checking the place for tautness.
Look up. You came to see the smokestacks’ lather
and watch the buzzards gathering like stubble on the sky.