Now and then, a place is best told by the person who knows it — so we open the pages to the occasional outside voice.
We are a small desk with a fixed idea of the South, and we cannot be everywhere. When a reader knows a valley, a table or a craft better than we ever will, we would rather print their account than a thinner one of our own. This page is how that conversation starts.
It is not a call for volume. We publish a handful of guest pieces a year, chosen the way we choose everything else — because the place earns it, and because the writing is honest. We do not buy articles, we do not run sponsored copy, and we never sell a link or a mention inside a story.
A page or two will tell you the voice: first person plural, slow, specific, and only about places we have actually been. If that is not your register, this is not the right home for the piece.
A hundred and fifty words is plenty: the place, why it matters now, and why you are the one to write it. A finished article is harder for us to shape than an idea.
A line on your connection to the subject — and, plainly, any interest you have in it. We can write about a place a friend runs; we just say so.
We agree the angle, the length and a date together. From there the desk edits as it would any piece, and decides when — or whether — it runs.
So there is no misunderstanding, a guest article is a one-off, unpaid contribution. It carries none of the trappings of a job:
Send your pitch to the editors. One paragraph is enough to start.
Write to the editors →