Green Hills Literary Lantern is published annually, in July, by Truman State University, Kirksville, MO.
GHLL welcomes work from established writers as well as from less experienced writers.
Historically, the print publication ran between 200-300 pages, consisting of poetry, fiction, reviews, and interviews, and was printed on good quality paper with a glossy, 4-color cover.
The digital magazine is of similar proportions and artistic standards.
GHLL reads submissions year-round, and published a new edition in June/July. Reporting time 3-4 months.
Writers are strongly urged to read several sample issues in order to learn what sorts of things GHLL prefers.
“What do we like? There are stories I read thirty years ago and still remember. We try to find that sort of thing and publish it. Sometimes it’s a compelling dramatic situation that grabs us by the throat in the first paragraph and won’t let go till the end: Frank O’Connor’s “Guests of the Nation” asks us to imagine what it’s like to be a basically decent sort of person who takes hostages and kills them. We’re not much for alt-worlding, but really good fiction can and does get set in realms that do not exist: you wake up one morning and discover you’ve been transformed into a large insect. Deal. Might be a poignant character we can’t forget, like the protagonist of Joyce’s “Araby,” even if what we remember is profound dislike (“This is My Living Room”). Maybe a setting, like the town in Lardner’s “Haircut.” And maybe it’s style, or a philosophical conundrum given intense emotional embodiment. LeGuin’s “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas” scores high on both. We’re not crazy about the Big Reveal and the Twist Ending, mere cleverness. Faulkner’s “A Rose for Emily” endures in spite of, not because of that stunt. Very unlikely to publish overtly inspirational material, or genre stuff that doesn’t do anything particularly interesting with the conventions and stage-machinery. We like craft; Alice Walker’s classic “Everyday Use” has everything, including a genuine MacGuffin.”
