Ever have someone tell you to stand up straight? Look them in the eye when you’re talking?
Welcome to slouch, an erratically published slacker journal of West Coast-centric fiction, poetry, book reviews and industry news.
slouch celebrates the unique, the individual, the trendless. This website isn’t a regurgitation of what passes for digital culture — mindless entries consisting of links to someone else’s used up ideas, embedded You Tube videos, sidebars of pointless advertisements or comment sections where anonymous bullies take turns sniping at each other — nope, this is personal, this is real, because art isn’t found in a mash-up, regardless of what you’ve heard.
slouch was founded in 2006 and continues to be a singular outlet for authors with voice, passion and a desire to forge their own road rather than walk the finely manicured, certainly dull MFA path. slouch is for writers who prefer to live rather than imitate, who prefer discipline to kitsch and honesty to obfuscation. Writing is work, my friends, and if you don’t put in that work, you might as well have not even bothered.
slouch seldom publishes unsolicited stories, poems or reviews. This is because, at its core slouch is an aggregation of what Fernando Pessoa called heteronyms; alter egos who write with a particular style or voice somewhat different from my own, and solicited works from writers I admire. Submissions are not discouraged, however. If you have something you’d like to submit that would fit well here, then please do so. The guidelines are simple: you must live on the West Coast. If in the body of your submission email you fail to mention your locale or you live anywhere east of Lake Tahoe, forget it. You won’t even receive a response for wasting our time and yours by not reading the submission guidelines.
Thanks very much for reading and if you wish to participate or communicate, hit me up on Twitter or via email at editor[at]slouchmag dot com.