Saturday, May 23, 2026

Call for Submissions on Theme of "Playground Boyfriend": Black Warrior Review's Boyfriend Village

Recent cover image or website screenshot for BWR Online 

Boyfriend Village is Black Warrior Review’s online edition, released once and sometimes twice a year.

In March 2018, BWR chose to rename and reconfigure its online issue in honor of Zach Doss, who had passed away unexpectedly. Zach was a dedicated BWR Editor and a brilliant writer of queer, fabulist, surprising works; Boyfriend Village has become a special haven for such writing and much, much more.

In honor of Zach’s bold vision and legacy, Boyfriend Village seeks to be a fully accessible space for unusual, boundary-pushing literary content, especially work from the margins, work that makes exciting use of digital platforms, and work that other well-established journals might overlook. We hope that with the increased online presence Boyfriend Village allows, we might provide a larger platform for underrepresented aesthetics and writing communities. Work found in Boyfriend Village resists and challenges notions of “the page” alongside other extraordinary pieces you might expect to find in the print issues of BWR.

Every issue of Boyfriend Village has a new Online Editor, who selects a new theme and keeps the village refreshed and moving forward, even as it honors a vital part of BWR history.

All Boyfriend Village contributors are paid for their work.

2026 Boyfriend Village: Playground Boyfriend

Black Warrior Review is seeking submissions of all genres for our tenth edition of Boyfriend Village: Playground Boyfriend.

For many of us, the playground is where we first act out dominant societal institutions: performing weddings, playing house, or building business empires from woodchips. However, the playground is also where the boundaries of those institutions can dissolve entirely. Yes, the wedding is still on, but today, the brides are both mermaid horses with ice powers. The playground is space for experimenting with possibility. How high can you swing? How dizzy can you make yourself? If the jump skins your knee today, will it do the same tomorrow? This ground is where discovery happens, where exploration runs reckless, where rules can be more than broken; they can be thrown out entirely. We all love work which surprises the audience, but when does the artist surprise themself? Playground Boyfriend seeks art which embraces play, whether that be through wordplay and constraint, a spiritual release of control, a refusal to settle in one genre, a commitment to silliness, radical acts of imagination, or digging wormful holes in the dirt.

In most spaces, it isn’t proper to play. Play is treated as a luxury, a distraction, an unnecessary accessory to adult existence. Playground Boyfriend begs to disagree and argues that play is a vital mode of accessing what could be, and that work which plays can explore all stages of life. On the playground, there is room to move wildly without the bounds of itineraries, rules, or conventions of the restrictive here and now. Play towards a realized queer futurity, imagine the potential for new worlds, unshackle your art from all traces of colonialism, heteronormativity, or hyperindividualism—build a playground divorced from so-called reality. Bring Playground Boyfriend your disobedient grammars, your funky mix, your improper, your bold and wise. Leap from monkey bar to cumulus cloud, tongue out to gravity.

Playground Boyfriend invites you to disrespect authority, smash borders, make up the rules, turn office buildings to jungle gyms. There is no one form of playground—though we love tire swings and seesaws as much as anyone—because anywhere can become a playground, even trees and oceans and superstores and kitchen tables and grass blades and sewer systems and housefires. Claim new grounds for creativity. Let your play sprawl. Playground Boyfriend is here, one knee pressed in the mud, offering a blue raspberry Ring-Pop in exchange for your love, your rage, your melancholy, your bittersweet. We want your anything, so long as it plays.

This year’s editor is Tillie Lefforge, and you can learn more about her vision for this year’s Boyfriend Village on Instagram.

Submission Guidelines:

Submissions are open between May 15th, 2026, and June 15th, 2026. While themed, this is open to interpretation. If you think your boyfriend(s) might belong in our village, don’t hesitate—send them along!

There is one submission category for all genres. We accept fiction, poetry, nonfiction, hybrid, visual and multimedia art, as well as sound collage, video, games, and more. For graphic, audio, and visual work, if Submittable accepts the file type, so will we! Color images are welcome. If submittable doesn’t accept the file type, feel free to email us at:

onlineeditors.bwr@gmail.com 

You may use your cover letter to tell us as much or as little about yourself & your work as you like. Simultaneous submissions are welcome. 

Though we welcome submissions of all forms of art, the following are general guidelines on length: 

  • For prose, under 6000 words is preferable.
  • For flash (pieces under 1000 words), you may include up to three pieces.
  • For poetry, five poems or less is ideal.

Again, these are just guidelines; they’re here to give you an idea of the typical length we’re willing to accept. For submissions that can’t be measured by word count, just keep in mind how much time is needed to fully engage with the work. We suggest that you look through past issues of Boyfriend Village as a guide on what would be an appropriate length to submit.

AI Statement: Work that has been created in any part with the assistance of AI tools is not eligible for submission or publication.

There is a $5 submission fee. Submission fees are used to compensate contributors. If you need a fee waiver for any reason, please email us at:

feewaiver.bwr@gmail.com

to request one.

Submit your work here

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