Literary Journals Are Struggling—So Why Do We Still Need Them?

By Tyra Douyon

There is a lot of vitriol in the poetry world about literary journals and magazines. Typically, people lament how long it takes to get a poem published (it can be double or triple the wait time if it’s a print journal, sometimes stretching from six months to over a year). But there’s also smoke for how weird and dramatic submission callouts can be (“We want your heart on a string. Send us your magic spells and potions. We want to find you in the dark, counting each letter of your sentences with an abacus. Show us how to love again.”). And lastly, there’s the reality that, more often than not, you won’t get paid to publish your work. The old saying, “There’s no money in poetry,” partly comes from this very issue of non-payment.

As someone who has worked with three journals so far—as a social media editor, an assistant poetry editor, and a co-editorial director—across print and digital, as well as collegiate and independent presses, I’ve experienced both sides of the aisle. I know what it feels like to be part of the masthead, doing my best to keep a journal alive while drowning in submissions. And I’ve felt the agony of piling rejections, the confusion of tracking open calls, themes, and deadlines, and the quiet insecurity of not feeling “good enough” for journals that tout their 0.1% acceptance rate like a badge of honor.

So if poets are frustrated with the system, and editorial teams are constantly stretched thin on time, money, and labor, the question becomes: is this simply a reflection of how little society invests in the arts, or are literary journals slowly inching toward extinction?

Literary journals and indie presses were once considered the backbone of traditional publishing. But at a time when legacy media outlets are shuttering, downsizing, or pivoting to survive, it’s fair to ask what happens to the smaller, often volunteer-run publications. Will literary journals become relics—beloved, but increasingly niche?

The thing is… I love literary journals, and so do many other poets and writers I know.

They’ve given us space to hone our craft, gain editorial experience, and build confidence in our voices. Journals publish chapbooks and full-length collections, host contests and conferences, and create ecosystems where artists can find both community and audience. Over time, many have expanded beyond poetry and fiction to include book reviews, visual art, photography, screenplays, interviews, and cultural criticism. And working on staff—as a reader or editor—can offer meaningful, hands-on experience that translates directly to careers in publishing and media. Still, love doesn’t make them immune to struggle.

In just the past five years, several literary journals have shut down entirely or scaled back their operations due to funding cuts, burnout, or lack of institutional support. Journals like Raritan, The Believer, Bookforum, Astra Magazine, Glimmer Train, and Tin House, alongside beloved indie publications like Winter Tangerine and Cosmonauts Avenue, have shut down or ceased major operations, while legacy publications like The Antioch Review remain on indefinite hiatus. Others, like Natural Bridge, have moved fully online, and even internationally respected journals like Meanjin have announced closures, signaling a broader instability across literary publishing.

Which is exactly why supporting literary journals, in whatever ways we can, still matters.

5 Reasons to Publish Your Work in a Literary Journal

1. Share your work with a community of readers. Publishing your work online can give you exposure—and exposure still matters. But beyond visibility, literary journals offer something more intentional: a built-in readership that is actively seeking new voices. If traditional publications aren’t giving you a chance, a literary journal just might.

2. Many literary journals accept shorter pieces and excerpts. If you’re working on a larger project—a book of essays, a short story collection, or a poetry manuscript—publishing individual pieces can help you build momentum. It signals to editors and publishers that your work resonates, making it easier to advocate for the full project later on.

3. You can build real relationships with editors and publishers. Establishing genuine connections can feel intimidating, but literary journals create natural entry points. I’ve been able to interview published authors and speak at conferences because of my editorial roles. Opportunities really do multiply from proximity.

4. Join a journal staff to gain editorial experience. If you’re looking to strengthen your resume or transition into publishing, working for a literary journal is a valuable step. Roles range from readers and interns to managing editors and social media leads, and each offers insight into how the industry actually works.

5. The process will strengthen your writing. Submitting your work consistently forces you to revise, refine, and develop resilience. Rejection is part of the process—but so is growth. Over time, your work sharpens because you keep showing up to the page.

Bonus: Confidence.There is nothing like seeing your work in print or published online. When I received my first print issue with my poems and bio, I’m pretty sure I cried. That moment stays with you. The “I’m a published writer with a byline” feeling is real—and it can shift how you see yourself and your work moving forward.

Recommended Substack

One of my go-to submission resources is Sub Club on Substack, a project developed by Chill Subs to help writers stay informed about opportunities. They send out curated lists of open calls twice a week, focusing primarily on literary magazines and indie presses, along with select contests. Each listing includes key details—submission fees, payment (if any), deadlines, acceptance rates, and genres—so you can make informed decisions about where to send your work. If you’re overwhelmed by the submission process, tools like this can make it feel a lot more manageable.

RIP?

Are we saying RIP to the literary journal? I hope not, and I don’t want to.

Despite all the issues the publishing industry and legacy media are facing (have always faced?), we need to continue supporting independent presses and outlets for creative expression. Poets need a place to call home, and I truly believe that is in the journals that have shaped our writing journeys. There is a reason why many poets thank the journals that first published their individual poems in the acknowledgement section of their collections. Journals are the first places many of us feel seen. They help us solidify the poet label, and that kind of magic deserves to be protected.