SFWP is an independent press dedicated to the craft of writing. We stand by our authors and we stand by our books, embracing new trends and ideas beyond those of the current publishing industry. Learn more about SFWP.

News

Four of the 2013 Literary Awards Program winners will be published in spring 2015. Find out more right here, and find the list of fiction winners here, and nonfiction here. There is not an Awards Program in 2014.

If you’re looking for news on the Gifford’s Ice Cream memoir, check out the publisher’s blog.

Find out more about SFWP’s origins and founder Andrew Gifford at Delphi Quarterly.

You are invited to our fall 2014 launch party in Silver Spring, MD!

The Books

I started publishing because I love books. I publish titles that I would buy, and that I want to see on the shelves, regardless of genre. SFWP’s mission is not about making a fortune, or creating a catalog that the accountants can get behind. The mission is one of recognition and preservation. These books are works of art, as precious as anything you would hang on your wall. Please take a moment to explore our titles and join me on this mission.

-Andrew Gifford, Director

 

 

The Latest From the Journal

 

The Gleaners by Marjorie Robertson

By:

It all started when Baba came home from Cairo. That was when you got those crazy ideas, they say. At night in the coolness of our stone house the soft roar of trucks on the highway to Rabat came and went like ocean waves, and we whispered to one another through the curtain separating our rooms.

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Montreal, Eventually by Gary Berg

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The old man behind the wheel wore a John Deere baseball cap and eyed me. “Montreal, that’s a long way from Vegas.” I pushed my backpack down between my feet and looked for a seat belt. “I’m learning that.”

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Sinker by R.S. Paulette

By:

See, my father was alien to me, with his barrel chest and his big game magazines spread across his coffee table. He was the kind of man who bought the same baseball cap he saw Bill Dance wear on television. How he could stand smoking these horrible, unfiltered Camels—which, incidentally, gave him a thick, hacking cough—I’ll never know.

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