Evercreech Editions emerged from years of conversations with friends, fellow writers, booksellers, readers. I wanted somewhere to focus the disagreements, the dissatisfactions, even the despair. The literary life has always been difficult and precarious. The best writing has always been out of step with the dominant ideologies of the day. That’s its purpose. The best writing emerges from discomfort, disillusionment. But as far as we could tell, this disillusionment was being pasted over with platitudes, cliche and conservatism—even in the literary sphere. The weird voice of dissent meeping distorted beneath the roar of the crowd. I wanted an outlet for the out of step, the weird, the boldly defiant, a home for the homeless.

There is also something distinctly Tasmanian in dissent, which is why I believe it to be the right place to base Evercreech. Something iconoclastic and nose-thumbing. Perhaps more than the beauty of the place, more than its grim, unacceptable history, the spirit of being contra is what I value most.

I had, and have, my own romantic ideas about running a small press. The Woolfs, the early years of Kurt Wolff Verlag, the small collective meeting at the Black Porker. They were revolutionaries. More importantly, they stood beside each other, promoted each other, sang each other’s praises when nobody else would. In an age of clickbait and self-promotion, the concept of championing friends and kindred spirits has exited like a ghost. Evercreech holds up its authors, designers, artists, and translators in a similar way, seeing great power in the collective.

Finally, there is something satisfying about the word Evercreech, suggesting a Joycean neologism and a scream from below. A word you feel you should know but at the same time find odd. It sums us up perfectly.

—Adam Ouston, Founder & Publisher

adam@evercreecheditions.com