How Can New Authors Improve Their Chances With Paris Review Submissions?

Submitting to The Paris Review feels like trying to get a nod from a very discerning, slightly mysterious bookish relative. I've never had luck, but a friend who placed a piece there years ago gave me the only advice that ever felt concrete: read the magazine cover to cover for at least six months prior. Not just skimming, but really absorbing the rhythm and the kind of emotional space their fiction occupies. It's less about fitting a theme and more about aligning with a specific literary sensibility—the sentences in 'The Paris Review' often have a particular weight and texture.

Beyond that, your cover letter should be utterly minimal. They already don't pay much attention to it, so a long, gushing bio about your MFA or your dreams just adds noise. Name, title, word count, a single-line publication credit if it's truly notable, and that's it. The work has to stand completely alone. And for god's sake, follow their submission guidelines to the letter, even if they seem fussy. Using the wrong font or file format is an easy, avoidable reason for a quick pass.

I think the biggest mistake is sending something because it's 'good enough' or technically proficient. They're looking for a voice they haven't heard before, even if it's quiet. So workshop it until it's undeniable, then wait another month, revise it again, and only then hit send. The slush pile is Everest-sized; you need every atom of that piece to feel essential.

Polish the first paragraph until it's bulletproof. If that doesn't hook them, the rest won't get read, no matter how good the ending is. Forget clever openings; aim for a line that creates an immediate, unshakable atmosphere or raises a question the editor physically needs answered. The rest of the story has to deliver, but that first page is your only ticket in. Then, be patient and send something else next time. Rejection is the default, so a personalized 'no' is a win.

Okay, gonna be a little contrarian here. Everyone talks about 'reading the magazine,' which, yeah, obviously. But I think new writers fixate too much on mimicking the 'Paris Review style' and end up producing pale imitations. What they actually publish is wildly diverse. The throughline isn't a style, it's confidence—a narrative that knows what it is and doesn't apologize.

My approach was different. I stopped trying to write for them and just wrote the weird, quiet story I wanted to write, the one that felt too small for other venues. Then I researched the specific editors' names (not just the submissions email) and their own work. When I submitted, I addressed it personally to one of the fiction editors whose published essays resonated with my story's mood. Didn't suck up, just a sentence: 'I admired your piece on X, which touched on themes my story explores.' It shows you're in the conversation, not just shooting blind.

It still got rejected, of course. But it got a handwritten note instead of a form slip, which felt like a minor miracle. That's the real goal at that tier—to get a human response that suggests you're close.