For our Spring Issue, 2016, The Citron Review invites LGBTQIA writers to submit work in any genre for our first-ever queer issue. The idea: To celebrate these stories and amplify these voices. At Citron, we seek to be representative of the contemporary landscape — and this includes, brothers, sisters, and siblings of all genders, ethnicities, and sexual orientations. Everyone.
To be considered for this issue writers must identify as LGBTQIA. There are no restrictions on content or theme, only that submissions are representative of the writer’s spirit. Normal submission guidelines apply with regard to length, etc.
As volunteer editors who also financially support the technological maintenance of our journal, we have talked long and hard about submission/reading fees. We always come back to the same answer: No.
But for this issue, we need to go beyond ourselves, bringing in guest editors for each genre. We feel that we need to compensate them for their time, even if a modest payment. Therefore, we are charging a small submission fee. We do also have options for you to pay more, in case you just love us that much, and are able to pay more. It will not influence our decision about your submission either way. If enough people submit, and some give more than minimum, we hope to also pay the writers that appear in this issue.
We’re new to all of this. In fact, we’re experimenting. We hope you’ll experiment with us, and we appreciate your support. And just to be clear, we welcome work from any writer, at any time during the year. We are not suspending our normal submission process during this period. Submissions will be accepted for consideration for Summer 2016 and beyond!
By bringing this group together, in this moment, we know something special is going to happen. Get your submissions ready and please share this with everyone you know! The deadline is January 31, 2016.
The Queer Issue will be published 4/1/16!
Now, to introduce our fabulous guest editors…
Seth Fischer’s work has appeared in PANK, Guernica, The Rumpus, Best Sex Writing, and other journals and anthologies. His essay “Notes from a Unicorn” was also selected as notable in The Best American Essays, and he has attended residencies at Ucross, Lambda Literary, Jentel, Woodstock Byrdcliffe, and elsewhere. He was the first Sunday editor at The Rumpus, and he is also a professional developmental editor of novels and memoirs for publishing houses and individual clients. He holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Antioch University Los Angeles, where he also teaches.
A note from Seth…
Queer is living the fact that sexuality and gender must be authentic, but that these also change, and that they are not intrinsic, except for all the times that they are. Queer is not seeing yourself and the people around you the way that you’re supposed to, and it’s also knowing that while you might be punished for that, there’s no alternative to telling the truth. It’s knowing that if you can’t tell the truth at that moment because your life or livelihood would be put at risk, you write that shit down, so you can tell the truth later. Queer is seeing that identity politics is a blessing at the beginning and a curse at the end, that it is good not to be lonely but that being subsumed into the imploding power structures around us is only going to make us go down with the ship. Being a queer writer is learning how to tell a queer story without resorting to buzzwords or lingo that is only comprehensible to the initiated; it’s learning how to stretch the language in the same way that we stretch our lives.
Jenny Factor is an archaeologist of object and mind; she is also a feminist, a mother, and a dog-lover. Her poem collection, Unraveling at the Name (Copper Canyon Press), won a Hayden Carruth Award and was one of five finalists for the Lambda Literary Award. Factor’s formally-subversive poems and reviews have appeared in more than a dozen anthologies, including Poetry 180 and The Best American Erotic Poems (Scribner, 2008). Her work has been supported by an Astraea Grant in lesbian poetry. Jenny Factor received her MFA in Literature from Bennington College, and her B.A. in Anthropology from Harvard College. She serves on the Core Faculty at Antioch University Los Angeles, the only MFA program with a dual focus on literature and the pursuit of social justice.
A note from Jenny…
I have no idea what Queer is. But I like poems that care about themselves and their craft. Craft can include shapeliness and sound, but it can also include querying tropes of genre or idea, such as the way a reader lets a writer into a story or a vantage point (or how a writer disabuses us of both story and vantage point). My wish would be that your identity enter or ignore the confines of the page in any way that pleases you. Write about self, or don’t. Write queer poetry, or poetry that is essentially unidentifiable by label. It is just human. It is just aesthetic. It is just poetry. And you—being you—recognize that essential queerness that we are. Whether or not I, the reader, can see it in you: Queerness is whatever you are learning it is, or whatever you already know it to be.
Milcah Halili Orbacedo is a genderfluid trans* femme boy who regularly performs femme drag. They write about race, gender, class, spirituality, and being a demisexual sex worker who gets off on narrative and genderfucking.
A note from Milcah…
Queer subverts and inverts the homogenized and colonized. Not only does it defy the mainstream, it defies it’s own definitions, ever fluid and in motion. Queer is movement in the context of an ocean. Queer is the blue of the ocean’s waters, and the oranges, greens, purples, and pinks of its seabeds. It invites you to love who you love beyond and within any binary. Old school love meets new school love, a bridge to a new way of being.
Shannon Barber is a Black Queer author from Seattle. She writes non-fiction, fiction and the occasional poem. She is the author of Self Care Like A Boss (new edition coming 2015), short fiction and essays. She is a joyously promiscuous reader and writer.
A note from Shannon…
Queer is my heart. Queer is my history, my lovers, my body. Queer is my chosen family and the most familiar and intimate understanding I have of who I am. I want to know about yours. I have studied Queer stories since I was a teenager, the one thing I can never get enough of is the stories of those of us who live at the margins and intersections. The scope and breadth of Queerness as an identifier, identity and experience is so vast, yet so many of us have gone without our stories told. I want those stories. I want your story.