What’s the Deal With All the Fucking Lit Mags??

Submit your hyperspecific lit mag ideas below

If you’ve so much as existed on the University of Iowa campus the past few weeks, you’re bound to have witnessed some advertisement or another for a number of lit mags, or literary magazines. If you’re not an English major, or aren’t the type to submit your work, you might be wondering what the big deal is.

From early September to early/mid-October, the English department goes into a mad scramble for submissions season. This is the only time of year where all campus lit mags can be submitted to since some are only open once a year. 

The university contains a wealth of these organizations, too. If there’s a genre, theme, or idea you’ve got, then someone has already brought together staff to read your submissions on it. Speculative fiction? Wilder Things. Hopeful nonfiction? Horizon. Fucked up time travel shit? Broken Clock. We’ve even assembled some of our own ideas of yet-to-be lit mags that could exist in the near future:

• One-act plays assembled in the style of a really long Playbill

• Queer poetry collection that is only printed in teeny tiny books

• A magazine that doesn’t really exist, but emails you pro-bono rejections anytime you feel too confident in your own writing

New lit mags sprout at such a terrifying rate that the Magid Center’s own website can barely keep up with what’s still running (not that there’s anything wrong with that). Venus, Catharsis, and probably some other magazine hidden within the depths of Iowa City aren’t officially listed, but are definitely around campus.

But you might be thinking, “I don’t know if any of these magazines mesh well with my writing.” Don’t fear! You, yes you, can start your own magazine. With the power of roughly ten of your closest friends, a consistent meeting schedule, and whatever the Magid Center’s approval requires, you too can join Iowa’s rich literary tradition. Or start an overly-ambitious D&D group. No one can say which is harder.

So go out there! Create! Submit! Apply! The world is your oyster, and while the pressure to get involved may feel crushing, it could turn you into a pearl (see that? I did a metaphor. Very literary). Or if the ten-or-so imminent submission dates are too overwhelming, you can join us laying on the ground in choice paralysis. That’s fine, too.