'Tis the season. The year is coming to an end, and with the season comes gifts, carved meats, awkward family exchanges, and (unfortunately) travel. All this to say, we're going to be out of town for a while, and because of this, Spilt Milk will be taking a brief hiatus. We will resume posting in the new year, and we have exciting new works to expose to this realm of anonymity and irresponsible choices.
We will be reading submissions during this break, and we hope you will use our time off to send us something truly impressive. Or, if you'd rather read, feel free to peruse our catalog of talented writers. Can we make a suggestion? Try "Museum of Fucked" by David Peak. Preorders shipped this week, and we have a couple leftover copies we'd be glad to pull out of the fridge and send to you. It's here.
Thanks for reading, and Merry Christmas. We'll see you in the new year.
--the Editors
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About Spilt Milk
Spilt Milk was the online literary journal of the Warm Milk Printing Press. Spilt Milk is now defunct. There are many reasons for why this happened. It is sad for us. We apologize for any inconvenience. Maybe one day more milk will be spilt.