Brick
This is a Canadian magazine of literary nonfiction, and they accept submissions from all over the world – submissions opened on 1st April, and will stay open until the submission cap for free submissions is reached (see guidelines). They publish a wide range of nonfiction – see guidelines for some of the works they’ve published. They do not want fiction or poetry.
Deadline: 30 April 2024, or until filled
Length: “While Brick does not set a word limit, we tend towards a range of 1,000–5,000 words.”
Pay: $55-720
Details here (guidelines and pay rates – scroll down) and here (Submittable).

The Paris Review
They accept poetry submissions; via Submittable until they reach a cap, and via post, through April. They also accept translations. They will open later in the year again for both prose (June, October) and poetry (July, October) submissions.
Deadline: 30 April 2024
Length: Up to 6 poems
Pay: Unspecified
Details here.

(And, Shenandoah is accepting poetry submissions, until a submission cap is reached. They also accept poetry translations. Send up to 5 pieces, no more than 10 pages total. Comics are open on an ongoing basis. Pay is $100/poem, and $40/page of comics up to $400. Details here and here.)

The Georgia Review
This literary magazine publishes fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and book reviews. Online submissions for non-subscribers are charged, but there is no fee for mailed submissions.  
Deadline: 14 May 2024
Length: Up to 9,000 words for prose, 6-10 pages of poetry
Pay: $50/printed page of prose and $4/line of poetry, up to $800; $150 for reviews published on GR2
Details here.

(And Electric Lit is also open for submissions in various categories – The Commuter for flash fiction, graphic narratives and poetry, pays $100; Recommended Reading for longer fiction, pays $300; and nonfiction, pays $100. Submissions will stay open till 14 April 2024, or until a cap is reached. Details here and here.)

Factor Four Magazine
They want flash fiction “in the genres of speculative fiction, specifically science fiction, fantasy, supernatural, super hero, or any combination of these.  We are looking for stories that are engaging to our readers in such a short word count.  Please take note of these factors (pun intended) when submitting stories to us.” They also want artwork (see guidelines).
Deadline: Open now
Length: Up to 1,000 words
Pay: $0.11/word
Details here.

Bio: S. Kalekar is the pseudonym of a regular contributor to this magazine. She can be reached here.

Young Ravens Literary Review has been published twice a year since 2014. Each issue contains writing from around 50 contributors, along with several interviews. You can read past issues online to get a sense of what they publish.

Now through June 15, Young Ravens Literary Review is seeking submissions on the themes of sound and melody. They are interested in writing that explores questions like, “What is the most frightening sound you’ve ever heard?”, “How is nature the ultimate musician?”, “How can silence sometimes be the loudest sound of all?”, and “What sounds soothe your soul?”.  For more possible approaches to the theme, you can read their submission guidelines.

Authors of fiction and nonfiction may submit up to two pieces, ten pages or fewer each. Poets may submit up to five poems of any type, “from free verse to found.” They also like to receive writing accompanied by raven artwork.

Authors may submit writing or artwork in up to two categories. Submitting authors can expect a response within two months.

Young Ravens Literary Review accepts submissions via email, not online or by post. They accept simultaneous submissions but ask that authors withdraw writing published elsewhere. They do not accept previously published work; however, they will consider submissions published on blogs and personal websites.

Young Ravens Literary Review only accepts submissions that follow the guidelines they’ve posted online. Please read these guidelines in full before submitting.

If you would like to learn more or submit to Young Ravens Literary Review, please visit their website here.

The paths to publication are many and varied.

Mine was a bit like a lurching tour of different venues, seeking the right ambience where I could find acceptance for my unusual manuscript. When I started out, I was fresh-faced, clear-thinking and naive. By the end I was a seasoned drinker, familiar with the tastes on offer and nearly out of my mind.

I knew there was a place for my nonfiction book in the world, it was a story that needed to be told. I felt it had the right elements of familiarity and uniqueness to be a commercial proposition. Before I sent my manuscript out each time, I tweaked it again, upgrading it to the next version.

As I did the rounds of the publishers, I picked up a few tips. Every establishment had its own rules and variations on the basic standard.

It seems stupid to say it, but you have to speak the right language, use the right font in the right size and the right format. Especially these days when you have to assume rejection just by the absence of response within a certain time-frame, you may not realise that no one actually read your submission simply because the software programs didn’t match or there were problems with the appearance of the manuscript rather than the content. Publishers are better at making the ‘how-to’ clear now.

Repeatedly going through the submission process allows you to develop skills in tailoring the pitch, even adapting the synopsis, to best align with the particular publisher’s leanings. And it is worth the effort, if only for the practice. You never know when you might hit the spot.

An automated reply confirming receipt is good. A generic reply saying your work did not suit their list is less common but more helpful than silence. A personal rejection with specific comments is valuable and can be incredibly instructive, though rare.

Also unfortunate is the fact that timing can be critical, though even this may be overcome by persistence and, well, the passage of time.

After trying my luck with the large traditional publishers, I moved on to the small presses. This is where I received my first independent piece of positive feedback. It included specific advice, for free, on what else I could do to improve my manuscript and encouragement to re-submit. But when I was ready to do so, they were closed to submissions.

I resumed my pub crawl and won a mentoring opportunity with one of the big ones. It was a hard lesson to learn that winning such a prize does not always guarantee publication with that house.

When I was getting impatient with the mentoring process, I eventually asked my mentor directly if they were going to publish my book. The mentor confessed that even though they were enthusiastic, that was not enough to get my manuscript over the line. If I had known that it had really been just a side project for them, I would have been more gracious for what they offered and less cranky about the delays. They suggested a few other publishers who might cope with my topic. At least these institutions gave me individualised rejection letters. 

I reapplied to the small press that had previously shown interest. The editor regretted that the company was undergoing restructuring and could not accept the manuscript. Actually, it was the end of the business, I discovered later.

That’s when I was at risk of losing my sanity. I became bitter and twisted because my work clearly had merit and was obviously as good as other titles.

‘Self publish! ‘ I hear you say. Yes, but I needed the external validation of my work and self-publishing didn’t seem easy to me.

Dogged determination paid off as I wormed my way into the right time. I managed to track down the person who gave me the initial glimmer of hope. Now with a new small press, they were still interested in my book, four painful years later.

Although COVID-19 delayed publication, ‘Autopsies for the Armchair Enthusiast’ finally made it out into the big wide world in October 2021. It was a champagne-worthy thrill.

What helped me stay the distance?

I kept connected to the writing community and continued to learn stuff you only pick up once you’ve been around the block a few times, particularly matching the fit between publisher and piece.

Although overcome by doubt at various times like most authors, I maintained my belief in the manuscript. Even though repeated knock-backs contributed to my deteriorating mental attitude, I was encouraged by the adversity-before-success stories of other writers.

In the end I could brag, ‘My book had as many rejections as the first Harry Potter novel and a bigger first print run!’

Bio: Dr Meryl Broughton is an Australian author. Her memoir ‘Autopsies for the Armchair Enthusiast’ offers a virtual tour of the autopsy based on real cases as a unique means of health promotion. Other writing has appeared in the Griffith Review, Science Write Now, Medical Observer, Australian Doctor and several anthologies.