Philosophy
Stories that examine the truth in the bitterness, in the anti-heroes. Heavy stories full of grit and discomfort that shed sympathetic light on the questionable, the unfavorable. Stories that ask difficult questions, that provide difficult answers.
We want others to feel the difficulty in a pained existence—to feel the dance between concreteness and ambiguity, between wellness and illness, between acceptance and resistance. To feel what we feel, to feel what others feel who might be unable to express or to share widely what they experience. They look away, most people. Too many writers gloss over the details, the harsh realities, the pain and suffering, whether overt or buried beneath the mundane. They fear alienating the reader because they don’t know how to make this pain and suffering accessible without making it trite or overdone (or offensive); they don’t know how to reach a reader who might not want to know how it feels. Not really. Not on those deep levels. Instead, they make it a spectacle, a tragedy. Or they simply refer to it as just that: pain and suffering, no more, no less.
We want our readers to feel this pain when they read your words. We want our readers to suffer with the characters, with us; please don’t leave out the details. Send us stories of all sizes and shapes that make someone else—someone even like us, like you—pause, put down the piece, shudder and walk away, but then, even if this reader never finds the strength to return, she cannot erase from her mind the feelings brought on by the words. She can’t deny the impact. She thinks about it, she comes back to it at the strangest of times, even unbidden. It is now a tangible thing, taking up physical space within her mind.
We also must balance this severity, this desire for an honesty that borders on the grotesque, the gratuitous, the voyeuristic: We must walk that line, make our readers look without forcing them to participate in something damaging—inspire emotion, not pity. Send us the stories and experiences you wrote because they needed to be written, not for the sake of violence or sexuality or self-aggrandizement. Help us push readers into ambiguity, into darkness, within which we can glimpse humanity and light where we might not have looked for it.
Reservoir Road Literary Review plans to evolve with its readers and the writing community.
As of 2022, we plan to publish four issues each year, once per quarter. We will release each issue on the last Tuesday of each quarter—the last Tuesdays in March, June, September, and December. Reading periods open at the start of the first month of each quarter—January, April, July, and October—and close at the end of the month or when we reach our submission caps, whichever comes first. Submission caps are displayed for each category in Submittable. Stories accepted in a given first month correspond to the issue of that quarter. For example, stories submitted in April will be considered for the Summer issue, releasing on the last Tuesday in June.
We publish a mix of prose and poetry in each issue, and each written work will be accompanied by photography.
Please note that we do not include detailed trigger warnings or content warnings in our issues or at the beginning of our stories; we do include general content warnings for overt themes at the beginning of each issue. Please assume that all stories published in this literary journal deal with difficult topics and include some sort of potentially triggering content.
We are a digital publication at this time; we do not publish print issues. We hope to change this in the future.
All photos not credited are taken from Unsplash, a site that provides photos that can be used freely. All work accepted through submission is credited.