For all our submissions, themed or otherwise, we welcome especially work by writers who are part of marginalized groups: immigrant and indigenous writers; writers of color; women, non-binary, LGBQIA and trans writers; writers with disabilities both visible and invisible. Send us your best work!
General Guidelines
The Fourth River publishes print and online issues. Submissions are accepted July 15-September 15 and November 15-January 15. We will occasionally run special calls for theme issues as well.
Submissions for the web series, Tributaries, is rolling, though we will sometimes close for a short time to catch up on reading.
There is a $3 submission fee for our issues, however we will announce FREE submission days occasionally over social media, so be sure to follow us!
Submissions to Tributaries are always free.
We wish it were otherwise, but The Fourth River is not a paying market at this time. Contributors to our print issues will be offered one copy of the issue in which their work appears. Digital contributors will be offered either one back issue or a copy of the upcoming print issue.
We welcome submissions of poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction and visual art, that explore the relationship between humans and their environments, both natural and built, urban, rural or wild. We are looking for writing that is richly situated at the confluence of place, space and identity—or that reflects upon or makes use of landscape and place in new ways.
***
Call for Fall 25 Digital Issue:
FOR THE BIRDS
If there is one animal that has consistently shown up in the submissions to The Fourth River, for at least the last ten years, it would be the feathered, winged ones that rule the skies.
Birds.
In fact, there have been so many birds bursting from poems, stories and essays that it has become a bit of an inside joke and also a teaching opportunity for graduate student editors engaging with the genre we call Nature Writing in the 21st century. Okay, birds, I tell them. But how are these birds special? If we can expect them to arrive in flocks, how can we spot the ones that stand out?
Okay, birds, we say.
But they had better surprise us!
2025 marks 20 years of publication for The Fourth River and in this anniversary year, instead of looking at them slightly askance, we’ve decided we want to embrace them!
So, bring us your birds! Your bevies and coveys, your murders and unkindnesses, your nests. Your bowers and roosts, your migration routes. Your claws and plumage, hollow bones and elliptical wings. Bring us swoop and sail and alight and soar.
Bring us eggs.
Bring pet birds flying around your living room and owls hunting mice under the moon. Bring literature and myth and extinction. Bring ravens and mockingbirds. Griffin and Harpy and Phoenix and Thoth. Archaeopteryx. Bring Quetzalcoatlus. Dodo. Great Auk.
Bring us delicate hummingbirds, sure. But also those small brown scrappy ones, nondescript and muscled out by the Cardinal-bullies at the feeder outside your window. Bring us pigeon and chicken and the un-lovely buzzard. Remind us that cassowaries can’t, but turkeys sure can, fly.
Let us hear their chirps and screeches.
Let us hear them sing.
For our fall, 2025 digital issue, we welcome your art, poems, essays and stories about birds.
***
Recent authors we’ve published include Barbara Hurd, Susan Cohen, Todd Kaneko, Mia Ayumi Mahlotra, Ira Sukrungruang, Lisa Summe and Bk Loren. Contributors to The Fourth River have received Pushcart Prizes, NEA Fellowships, and The Drue Heinz Literature Prize. The Fourth River’s contributors have been published in Glimmer Train, Alaska Quarterly Review, The Missouri Review, The Best American Short Stories, The O. Henry Prize Stories, and The Best American Travel Writing.
FOR THE BIRDS
If there is one animal that has consistently shown up in the submissions to The Fourth River, for at least the last ten years, it would be the feathered, winged ones that rule the skies.
Birds.
In fact, there have been so many birds bursting from poems, stories and essays that it has become a bit of an inside joke and also a teaching opportunity for graduate student editors engaging with the genre we call Nature Writing in the 21st century. Okay, birds, I tell them. But how are these birds special? If we can expect them to arrive in flocks, how can we spot the ones that stand out?
Okay, birds, we say.
But they had better surprise us!
2025 marks 20 years of publication for The Fourth River and in this anniversary year, instead of looking at them slightly askance, we’ve decided we want to embrace them!
So, bring us your birds! Your bevies and coveys, your murders and unkindnesses, your nests. Your bowers and roosts, your migration routes. Your claws and plumage, hollow bones and elliptical wings. Bring us swoop and sail and alight and soar.
Bring us eggs.
Bring pet birds flying around your living room and owls hunting mice under the moon. Bring literature and myth and extinction. Bring ravens and mockingbirds. Griffin and Harpy and Phoenix and Thoth. Archaeopteryx. Bring Quetzalcoatlus. Dodo. Great Auk.
Bring us delicate hummingbirds, sure. But also those small brown scrappy ones, nondescript and muscled out by the Cardinal-bullies at the feeder outside your window. Bring us pigeon and chicken and the un-lovely buzzard. Remind us that cassowaries can’t, but turkeys sure can, fly.
Let us hear their chirps and screeches.
Let us hear them sing.
For our fall, 2025 digital issue, we welcome your poems, essays and stories about birds.
Please send 3-5 poems, up to 4,000 words of prose, or 1-3 pieces of visual art at a time.
---
We welcome submissions of poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction and visual art, that explore the relationship between humans and their environments, both natural and built, urban, rural or wild. We are looking for writing that is richly situated at the confluence of place, space and identity—or that reflects upon or makes use of landscape and place in new ways.
For all our submissions, themed or otherwise, we welcome especially work by writers who are part of marginalized groups: immigrant and indigenous writers; writers of color; women, non-binary, LGBQA and trans writers; writers with disabilities both visible and invisible. Send us your best work!
FOR THE BIRDS
If there is one animal that has consistently shown up in the submissions to The Fourth River, for at least the last ten years, it would be the feathered, winged ones that rule the skies.
Birds.
In fact, there have been so many birds bursting from poems, stories and essays that it has become a bit of an inside joke and also a teaching opportunity for graduate student editors engaging with the genre we call Nature Writing in the 21st century. Okay, birds, I tell them. But how are these birds special? If we can expect them to arrive in flocks, how can we spot the ones that stand out?
Okay, birds, we say.
But they had better surprise us!
2025 marks 20 years of publication for The Fourth River and in this anniversary year, instead of looking at them slightly askance, we’ve decided we want to embrace them!
So, bring us your birds! Your bevies and coveys, your murders and unkindnesses, your nests. Your bowers and roosts, your migration routes. Your claws and plumage, hollow bones and elliptical wings. Bring us swoop and sail and alight and soar.
Bring us eggs.
Bring pet birds flying around your living room and owls hunting mice under the moon. Bring literature and myth and extinction. Bring ravens and mockingbirds. Griffin and Harpy and Phoenix and Thoth. Archaeopteryx. Bring Quetzalcoatlus. Dodo. Great Auk.
Bring us delicate hummingbirds, sure. But also those small brown scrappy ones, nondescript and muscled out by the Cardinal-bullies at the feeder outside your window. Bring us pigeon and chicken and the un-lovely buzzard. Remind us that cassowaries can’t, but turkeys sure can, fly.
Let us hear their chirps and screeches.
Let us hear them sing.
For our fall, 2025 digital issue, we welcome your poems, essays and stories about birds.
Please send 3-5 poems, up to 4,000 words of prose, or 1-3 pieces of visual art at a time.
---
We welcome submissions of poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction and visual art, that explore the relationship between humans and their environments, both natural and built, urban, rural or wild. We are looking for writing that is richly situated at the confluence of place, space and identity—or that reflects upon or makes use of landscape and place in new ways.
For all our submissions, themed or otherwise, we welcome especially work by writers who are part of marginalized groups: immigrant and indigenous writers; writers of color; women, non-binary, LGBQA and trans writers; writers with disabilities both visible and invisible. Send us your best work!
FOR THE BIRDS
If there is one animal that has consistently shown up in the submissions to The Fourth River, for at least the last ten years, it would be the feathered, winged ones that rule the skies.
Birds.
In fact, there have been so many birds bursting from poems, stories and essays that it has become a bit of an inside joke and also a teaching opportunity for graduate student editors engaging with the genre we call Nature Writing in the 21st century. Okay, birds, I tell them. But how are these birds special? If we can expect them to arrive in flocks, how can we spot the ones that stand out?
Okay, birds, we say.
But they had better surprise us!
2025 marks 20 years of publication for The Fourth River and in this anniversary year, instead of looking at them slightly askance, we’ve decided we want to embrace them!
So, bring us your birds! Your bevies and coveys, your murders and unkindnesses, your nests. Your bowers and roosts, your migration routes. Your claws and plumage, hollow bones and elliptical wings. Bring us swoop and sail and alight and soar.
Bring us eggs.
Bring pet birds flying around your living room and owls hunting mice under the moon. Bring literature and myth and extinction. Bring ravens and mockingbirds. Griffin and Harpy and Phoenix and Thoth. Archaeopteryx. Bring Quetzalcoatlus. Dodo. Great Auk.
Bring us delicate hummingbirds, sure. But also those small brown scrappy ones, nondescript and muscled out by the Cardinal-bullies at the feeder outside your window. Bring us pigeon and chicken and the un-lovely buzzard. Remind us that cassowaries can’t, but turkeys sure can, fly.
Let us hear their chirps and screeches.
Let us hear them sing.
For our fall, 2025 digital issue, we welcome your art, poems, essays and stories about birds.
Please send 3-5 poems, up to 4,000 words of prose, or 1-3 pieces of visual art at a time.
---
We welcome submissions of poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction and visual art, that explore the relationship between humans and their environments, both natural and built, urban, rural or wild. We are looking for writing that is richly situated at the confluence of place, space and identity—or that reflects upon or makes use of landscape and place in new ways.
For all our submissions, themed or otherwise, we welcome especially work by writers who are part of marginalized groups: immigrant and indigenous writers; writers of color; women, non-binary, LGBQA and trans writers; writers with disabilities both visible and invisible. Send us your best work!
FOR THE BIRDS
If there is one animal that has consistently shown up in the submissions to The Fourth River, for at least the last ten years, it would be the feathered, winged ones that rule the skies.
Birds.
In fact, there have been so many birds bursting from poems, stories and essays that it has become a bit of an inside joke and also a teaching opportunity for graduate student editors engaging with the genre we call Nature Writing in the 21st century. Okay, birds, I tell them. But how are these birds special? If we can expect them to arrive in flocks, how can we spot the ones that stand out?
Okay, birds, we say.
But they had better surprise us!
2025 marks 20 years of publication for The Fourth River and in this anniversary year, instead of looking at them slightly askance, we’ve decided we want to embrace them!
So, bring us your birds! Your bevies and coveys, your murders and unkindnesses, your nests. Your bowers and roosts, your migration routes. Your claws and plumage, hollow bones and elliptical wings. Bring us swoop and sail and alight and soar.
Bring us eggs.
Bring pet birds flying around your living room and owls hunting mice under the moon. Bring literature and myth and extinction. Bring ravens and mockingbirds. Griffin and Harpy and Phoenix and Thoth. Archaeopteryx. Bring Quetzalcoatlus. Dodo. Great Auk.
Bring us delicate hummingbirds, sure. But also those small brown scrappy ones, nondescript and muscled out by the Cardinal-bullies at the feeder outside your window. Bring us pigeon and chicken and the un-lovely buzzard. Remind us that cassowaries can’t, but turkeys sure can, fly.
Let us hear their chirps and screeches.
Let us hear them sing.
For our fall, 2025 digital issue, we welcome your poems, essays and stories about birds.
Please send 3-5 poems, up to 4,000 words of prose, or 1-3 pieces of visual art at a time.
---
We welcome submissions of poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction and visual art, that explore the relationship between humans and their environments, both natural and built, urban, rural or wild. We are looking for writing that is richly situated at the confluence of place, space and identity—or that reflects upon or makes use of landscape and place in new ways.
For all our submissions, themed or otherwise, we welcome especially work by writers who are part of marginalized groups: immigrant and indigenous writers; writers of color; women, non-binary, LGBQA and trans writers; writers with disabilities both visible and invisible. Send us your best work!
Purchase a print copy of The Fourth River!
Issues available for purchase:
- Current Print Issue, Disability: Visible and Invisible (2024)
- Boosie Bolden Chapbook Series; part of Chatham University's Emerging Black Writers-in-Residence Program:
- Black Visions: A Jeffrey "Boosie" Bolden Anthology (2022)
- The Bones We Lose (2024), Cameron Barnett (EBWR, 2022-2024)
Please indicate which issue you would like to purchase in the "Recipient's Name" section of this form. For example: Smith_BlackVisions, Jones_TheBonesWeLose, or Miller_CurrentIssue.