In casual conversation, the word “literature” is used broadly to reference anything that employs the written word as a vehicle for information exchange. For the purposes of deciding what is fit to be published in the CLR, however, this is a functionally useless definition as it includes anything ranging from ancient Greek philosophy to the legal copy on a car ad.
So, how then do we determine what literature is fit for acquisition? The short answer: we have criteria!
Having specific criteria we use to assess all submissions allows us to make the shift from the unhelpfully general definition of literature to a more selective and purposeful one; colloquially, works that fall into this latter category are known as Literature with-a-capital-L.
What elevates literature to Literature, as per the acquisition criteria we developed, include the following:
Cultural or Academic Value: Works that invite discussion and offer diverse interpretation, are morally or philosophically profound, and/or offer a timeless snapshot of contemporary sociopolitical contexts are Literature.
Unique Voice & Style: Works that push boundaries, explore complex themes, and inspire our readers through innovative writing are Literature.
Of Lasting Relevancy: Works that can survive trends and endure in meaningful ways generation to generation are Literature.
By being selective with what we choose to publish, we hope to curate a reading experience both profound and inspiring.
My earliest memory of reading involves The Hungry Caterpillar in a widely spacious library painted in primary colors that my mother would take me to. Another early memory I have was from the first eight years of my life spent in Australia, being seated cross-legged alongside my fellow young classmates having a book read to us all. The book was The Gizmo by Paul Jennings. Skipping ahead, I recall being introduced to Margaret Peterson Haddix’s Shadow Children series. The first book captivated me. I ended up binging through the rest of the series at home, then laying on my couch reading The Missing series, lost in a book from start to finish for three hours straight.
These days I’ve fallen off a bit with how I’ve become someone who accidentally hoards library books they’ve been meaning to read but haven’t been able to get to. On the other hand, I’ve certainly been someone who accidentally stayed up overnight consumed by the need to finish a rich long fanfic with engaging stories and concepts that explored what canon tales overlooked. Personally, I’ve often found I feel my way through a text. It also affects how I write, usually with me considering a character’s inner ‘voice’ or thought process. Reading for me usually involves imagining accompanying cinematographic visuals; my finger constantly on prose’s pulse, trying to pick up rhythmic structure. In the best summary, I’ve become someone who enjoys picking apart text intuitively and taking into stock how an author’s values, worldviews, and even creative process shape their work.
What I’ve found really interesting regarding my fellow editors is that everyone appears to enjoy being challenged. Being moved by text. I’m really fascinated with the fact that my peers look to be actively provoked in terms of an emotional response—even if that may be anger or discomfort. I think it’s very valuable, and that it’s significant to also be equipped with the tools to be able to unpack or be willing to explore just why that is. With all this in mind—seeing how my reading history, and remembering the qualities of stories that have moved me in the past, paired with observing what my peers like to read—it certainly affects our collective outlook on how we editors approach looking at poetry and prose submissions to consider for publication. It allows for some fascinating and insightful discussions as well, from the perspective of readers, editors, and budding writers!
Congratulations to Harry Newman on the cover reveal for his upcoming collection, Cliff Dwellers, from Silverfish Review Press. The painting by Sabine Moritz is titled Abendphantasie. Beautiful work!
Congratulations to CLR contributor Matthew James Friday on the recent publication of two new poetry chap books by Bottlecap Press: Strange BeautyandThe Be-All and the End-All!
The end of this fall 2025 term marks the first wrap of one of our brand new publishing courses: WR 246, Publishing Literature: Reading and Revising for Publication. Eight brave student editors learned the ropes of publishing by reading nearly 1300 submissions from more than 500 authors—and had a blast doing it! From researching literary journals to refining acquisition standards, from working with authors on developmental revision to soliciting cover art, these assistant editors have curated an incredible selection of poetry, prose, and possibility texts for our upcoming 30th volume. Thanks to the poets and writers who helped make this work possible!
Another bit of congratulations are in order: Scott Parker’s collection of essays, Teaching without Teaching, is just out from One Subject Press! We are so privileged to publish such wonderful writers.
So many thanks to all the amazing poets and writers for sharing your work during this year’s submission period. Our window closed yesterday—with over 560 submissions!! WOW!!! Our reading period begins next week, and there is yet another incredible group of student editors ready to learn all about publishing by doing the hard work to publish the next volume of our beloved literary journal—and our 30th issue!
Step 1: A poet submits his work. In September of 2022, Steve Deutsch submitted his poem, “Looking for America,” for consideration of publication in volume XXVII of the Clackamas Literary Review (CLR). Steve is the poetry editor of Centered Magazine and was the first poet-in-residence at Bellefonte Art Museum in Pennsylvania. He’s been nominated for the Pushcart Prize multiple times and won the Sinclair Poetry Prize for his full-length book, Brooklyn.
Step 2: Student editors select Steve’s poem for publication. Students enrolled in one of the English Department’s book publishing course offerings at Clackamas Community College in Oregon City, OR, who were learning all about publishing by working as assistant editors to publish the next volume of the award-winning and internationally-read Clackamas Literary Review, read, discussed at length, and were thrilled to acquire “Looking for America” for publication.
Step 3: A composer from the San Francisco Bay Area discovers Steve’s poem in the CLR. Martin Rokeach, a professional composer who had been commissioned by conductor Bruce Koliha to write a piece for chorus, had been searching for just the right poem—scouring the internet, visiting used book stores—to set to music. He had read over 200 poems and was coming up short. And then Dennis Lum, whose poems “Milky Way” and “The Answer Is No” were published in the same issue as “Looking for America,” and who happened to be Martin’s cousin-in-law, sent a copy of the CLR to his family to read. In Martin’s words, “I at last found what I needed in Steve’s ‘Looking for America.’” Martin reached out to the CLR’s managing editor about connecting with Steve regarding the exciting opportunity. The editor connected composer with poet, and the rest is, as they say, history.
Step 4: Composer sets poem to music. Martin wrote the music, to be performed by the San Ramon Valley Chorale, renaming it “Remembering We’re Alive.” It premiered in April 2025, nearly two years after the poem was first published in the CLR.
Step 5: Choral work wins a national music prize. Sacramento State’s Festival of New American Music, which received more than 230 submissions in four categories, selected only one choral work in the choir category. You guessed it: “Remembering We’re Alive.”
See how that works?
“Remembering We’re Alive,” adapted from Steve Deutsch’s poem “Looking for America,” originally published in volume XXVII of the Clackamas Literary Review and set to music by Martin Rokeach, will be performed November 2nd, 2025 at Sacramento State’s annual music festival.
“Looking for America,” by Steve Deutsch
Let us be best friends one last time—
roll out the old Ford and take
that trip we so often dreamed of
when young. Head to the west coast
on those two lane roads that once were America.
Remember when we were America too?
Fill that old Ford with chips and beer—
the radio set to the “Nothing but Oldies” Station,
loud enough to remind us we are still alive.
Swap lies with the locals in pubs on Main Street
and sample the biscuits and bacon in dozens of mom
and pop diners in what was once the heartland—
a thousand dots on a tattered gas station map
long ago bypassed and nearly forgotten.
And when the Ford throws a rod
in Kansas or Colorado, as of course
it must, we can unfold the aluminum
lawn chairs and sit on the berm to wait for the sunset.