Two Hawks Quarterly is looking for exquisitely crafted work that will astonish, surprise, challenge, and delight us. THQ accepts simultaneous submissions, but please inform us immediately if your work is accepted elsewhere. All work received is reviewed by at least three editors and often read aloud in a group setting. We strive to respond to every submission within four months or less.

Include a brief cover note with your submission that includes a mini-bio, list of prior publications, and contact information. We tend to read cover notes after we’ve read your work so as not to be swayed by them.

Up to five pieces per submission. Please include an artist’s statement in your cover letter with an indication of the thematic concept, and a title for each individual piece.

From 1200 to 5000 words.

We’re interested in all forms of creative nonfiction: memoir, personal essays, and hybrid forms, but not straight reportage, academic essays, travel writing, or editorializing rants.

Up to 1200 words.

We’re interested in all forms of creative nonfiction: memoir, personal essays, and hybrid forms, but not straight reportage, academic essays, travel writing, or editorializing rants.

From 1200-5000 words.

We are seeking literary fiction that is layered, contemporary, and has a social conscience. We are always seeking diverse and underrepresented voices.

Up to 1200 words.

We are seeking literary fiction that is layered, contemporary, and has a social conscience. We are always seeking diverse and underrepresented voices.

Experimental works that combine genres or don’t fit cleanly into the above categories. Recent published examples of Genre X include “James #3” by Ariadne Wolf and “No One Will Read It Unless You Have Zombies In It” by Neil Carpathios.

Up to 5 poems per submission; no more than 15 pages.

Our tastes in poetry are eclectic; we like narrative, we like lyrical, we can get excited over edgy too, but please send no more than five poems at a time. And no first drafts or 2:00 a.m. at the bar compositions—you'll hate yourself in the morning.

Two Hawks Quarterly