If UK publishing was a rainforest, then beneath the canopy of towering Penguins and Fabers, an abundant ecosystem of indie journals thrives. Just like the flora and fauna of the Amazon, these are as bright and diverse as anywhere on the planet, and equally essential to prevent the decay of the behemoths above.
The people who run these journals don’t do it for the money. They do it because they care, passionately, about new poetry and fiction. They have a democratic submissions process (no agents required). They sift through hundreds, sometimes thousands of entries, responding courteously to all writers who send in their work. They curate wbesites and produce gorgeous printed editions, delivering them to your door for less than the price of a cinema ticket. Even better you can take out a subscription, then come home to the delight of another beauty sitting on your doormat, ready to emerge from its brown carboard chrysalis.
Here are some of the latest ones I have to enjoy:
T.Y. Garner Writer 