"Willow Springs publishes work by unknown and up and coming writers, and by U.S. Poet Laureates and Pulitzer Prize winners, engaging our readers in an ongoing discussion of art, ideas, and the human experience."
Open:
Yes
Vibe: Send us your best but less intimidating
Response time:
6 months
Payment:
Yes
Simultaneous submissions:
Yes
Previously published:
No
Submission fee:
$3
Expedited submissions:
No
Available in print:
Yes
Examples online:
Yes

Important stuff

Active on social media
Available in print. We offer two complimentary copies for work we publish.
Pays! $100 per published long-form prose piece, $40 for short prose and $20 per published poem
Promote writers even after publication - hype hype hype
Submission fee (though they have some free submission windows)

Genres

👌

Fiction

For short prose (under 750 words), submissions can include up to three pieces. Reading period: September 1 - May 31.
👌

Nonfiction

For short prose (under 750 words), submissions can include up to three pieces. Open year round
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Poetry

Max pieces: 5Reading period: September 1 - May 31.
👌

Translations

No specific limitations

Examples

'The Return of Martin Guerre' by David Kirby

(excerpt)
Ever see The Return of Martin Guerre? It’s the best movie. Actually, it’s the worst movie, but I’ll get to that in a minute. It goes this way: Martin Guerre is married to Bertrande, but in 1548, he goes to fight in one of those seemingly interminable wars that the French were always fighting, and he doesn’t return until eight years later. Boy, is Bertrande happy to see him! There’s only one problem, which is that the new Martin Guerre doesn’t exactly look like the old one. And when he starts to squabble with relatives over his inheritance, they say Hey, this guy’s an impostor, and things don’t get any better after that.
Read the full piece in the magazine

'Flew It All Around' by Matthew Lippman

(excerpt)
My kid did my hair this morning. She got her fingers in my mop and fucked it up. Made all these spikes and railroads trestles. Threw in some twirls and blue paint. I had spent an hour with the brush. Didn’t matter. She came upstairs and got her hands in there, did some modern dance acrobatics on it. When she was done it was a garbage dump, a forest of brutalized pines. She said, Your head’s a forest. She was right. She’s nine.
Read the full piece in the magazine

'Ode to Super Friends and Nature Television' by Kathryn Smith

(excerpt)
Days when the planet seems particularly poised for disaster, I wear both my cephalopod T-shirt and my cephalopod ring. Have you heard of a more Anthropocene coping mechanism? I do it for the birds with nowhere to land at the critical point in their migration, for the skewed seasons and the jungle ants with parasite-skewered brains. Cave dwellers evolve to survive their sealed-over eyes. Who needs eyes on a planet wobbling its axis like a Tilt-A-Whirl? No wonder I wake motion sick, the fact of death and the ocean and the mouthparts of insects brimming the list of things I can’t control.
Read the full piece in the magazine

'Fallout, or the Mother Tongue of Pinocchio Was the Wind Through the Trees' by Roy Bentley

(excerpt)
THINK OF THE OCTOBER you read Pinocchio by flashlight inside the bomb shelter model, left to play or read while your entrepreneurial father accomplished small miracles in his shop, development housing spreading in all directions and across the horizon, cacophonous Ohio traffic leaking into the concrete-block model like fallout, like you guessed invisible charged particles behave or so they demonstrated with charts and a short film after civil defense drills at Rolling Fields Elementary.
Read the full piece in the magazine

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