Submissions for Volume 53 ARE Open!


Submissions are now officially open for WELTER [Volume 53 Fall/Winter 2018]! We are seeking your previously unpublished work* in poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction, and visual art. Please be sure to check out the genre-specific guidelines below.

We want to be clear as a journal that we are not only seeking work from current university staff and students, but from the the arts community at large. A degree (or degree-seeker) holds no authority to the written word (or visual art), and as readers we welcome all perspectives. As Welter celebrates diversity: authors are not obligated, but encouraged to self-disclose identity information in a cover letter. Please do not put your name anywhere on your submission file so we can assure anonymous and fair readings.

* We will accept a piece that’s currently up at any of your personal social media sites, we just ask you to remove it before publication.

Submit Here!

Check out some Welter excerpt inspo.!

Smokey by Ian Mason-Smolka

There he sat,
shielded by the thick blanket of cigarette smoke rising like the steam from Grandma’s tea kettle.
Grabbing the Old Granddad
he uttered in his smoke-ridden tone, “I want you to bury me with this,”
the bourbon scent is consuming the air between us.
I laughed, not seeing the day’s rapid approach.
He enlisted at fourteen.
He fought in Korea.
“You will outlive us all,” I reminded, eyes darting from wall to wall.
Pop wrapped his hand around my forearm,
the tension,
cooling the room.
Pop’s shoulders
Straightened and Statuesque,
“Don’t let me down.”


Originally Published in Welter 2008

Check out how to submit here!

Hemingway by Stephen Wiest (1965)

Shorthaired women in raintime

khakied skies and other things

to see through unwound bodies

wined up minds

Follow mudruts of armies to oblivion

over things to them oblivious

Nothing is sacred

especially those that would

You come in and look around

teach us to spread the blood cape

staying close shored

Open the door yourself

and walk to the rain

forgetting the horses