About The Grind
The Grind is a platform for fiction and visual art for Scotland and its diaspora. We publish short fiction, poetry, prose, experimental writing, photography and visual art by artists in Scotland and Scottish artists across the world.
We are here to give people a voice where they may not have had one before; to promote and support artists in every possible way we can. We do not shy away from anything that is experimental, controversial, or unusual. We are open minded and constantly exploring innovative ways to promote the artists we publish.
No matter whether you are a full-time artist or someone for whom art is an escape or a hobby, we are here.
The introduction to our second issue has proved to be a popular expression of our ethos:
We are here to give people a voice where they may not have had one before; to promote and support artists in every possible way we can. We do not shy away from anything that is experimental, controversial, or unusual. We are open minded and constantly exploring innovative ways to promote the artists we publish.
No matter whether you are a full-time artist or someone for whom art is an escape or a hobby, we are here.
The introduction to our second issue has proved to be a popular expression of our ethos:
Since our inception in October 2013 I have been asked by many people what exactly The Grind is. I would give the stock answer “we’re a journal of fiction and visual art for artists in Scotland and the Scottish diaspora”, to which the usual response was “…why?”
A very good question for which I had no good answer until our launch night in December 2013 in Glasgow. At the launch I met one of the poets we were planning on publishing in our inaugural edition. We chatted about literature, the bands playing on stage, the journal and so on. We then broached the topic of how we had put The Grind together; on obsolete laptops, 30-day trials of InDesign, through late nights and excessive working hours. I chatted to the poet amiably for some time before we parted company.
That night at home I received an email from him requesting that his name and his poetry be removed from the journal. Aghast, I agreed to do ask he wished, but also asked what prompted this action. He told me that he did not believe that people who work full time should be undertaking creative endeavours such as The Grind. Before he had seen the first issue he decided that being associated with us would ‘damage his reputation’; that there was no way we could possibly do his work justice. I removed his poetry from the journal and went to bed. It was at this point, months into the process of launching our publication, that I realised why The Grind exists.
We are here for the kind of people who work unmanageable hours in jobs they despise for wages that keep them hungry.
We are here for the kind of people who use their Masters degrees and PhDs to clean piss off of toilet seats; the kind of people who cannot afford to dedicate their lives to the pursuit of art at the expense of all else.
We’re here for the kind of people who will sacrifice all else for the pursuit of their art.
Passionate people. People like us.
We’re not here to support the kind of people who tell others they cannot write, draw, paint, shoot or create because they have to work at the same time. That is an intolerable and myopic view of the arts that we refuse to subscribe to. We’re here to give people a voice and a platform that they may not have had before. We’re here to collaborate and bring people together, avoiding the schiamachy and cliques that plague the arts. We just want to help people get the recognition they deserve. The working world in the 21st Century is a cruel, unforgiving place. It gobbles up time and youth, infantilises people, turns creative minds to mush. You work more so you have more money so you can work less so you can focus on art which costs money so you work more.
It never ends. It never will.
All you can do is try your best and hope beyond hope that amidst the avalanche of responsibility and minimum wage you find something you can hold on to. Something that makes you happy. We want to help you get that thing that makes you happy to as many people as possible.
A very good question for which I had no good answer until our launch night in December 2013 in Glasgow. At the launch I met one of the poets we were planning on publishing in our inaugural edition. We chatted about literature, the bands playing on stage, the journal and so on. We then broached the topic of how we had put The Grind together; on obsolete laptops, 30-day trials of InDesign, through late nights and excessive working hours. I chatted to the poet amiably for some time before we parted company.
That night at home I received an email from him requesting that his name and his poetry be removed from the journal. Aghast, I agreed to do ask he wished, but also asked what prompted this action. He told me that he did not believe that people who work full time should be undertaking creative endeavours such as The Grind. Before he had seen the first issue he decided that being associated with us would ‘damage his reputation’; that there was no way we could possibly do his work justice. I removed his poetry from the journal and went to bed. It was at this point, months into the process of launching our publication, that I realised why The Grind exists.
We are here for the kind of people who work unmanageable hours in jobs they despise for wages that keep them hungry.
We are here for the kind of people who use their Masters degrees and PhDs to clean piss off of toilet seats; the kind of people who cannot afford to dedicate their lives to the pursuit of art at the expense of all else.
We’re here for the kind of people who will sacrifice all else for the pursuit of their art.
Passionate people. People like us.
We’re not here to support the kind of people who tell others they cannot write, draw, paint, shoot or create because they have to work at the same time. That is an intolerable and myopic view of the arts that we refuse to subscribe to. We’re here to give people a voice and a platform that they may not have had before. We’re here to collaborate and bring people together, avoiding the schiamachy and cliques that plague the arts. We just want to help people get the recognition they deserve. The working world in the 21st Century is a cruel, unforgiving place. It gobbles up time and youth, infantilises people, turns creative minds to mush. You work more so you have more money so you can work less so you can focus on art which costs money so you work more.
It never ends. It never will.
All you can do is try your best and hope beyond hope that amidst the avalanche of responsibility and minimum wage you find something you can hold on to. Something that makes you happy. We want to help you get that thing that makes you happy to as many people as possible.
Sleep with little rest
Work for no reward
Dream with boundless ambition
And be happy
Despite it all
T H E G R I N D
Work for no reward
Dream with boundless ambition
And be happy
Despite it all
T H E G R I N D