Fruitslice is a grassroots publication. We publish quarterly, featuring exclusively Queer artists, writers, and creators. It aims to strengthen community by highlighting and archiving the ‘goings on’ in the hearts and minds of Queer people. It is a community editorial: a slice of literary journal, a slice of magazine, a slice of social commentary, a slice of collaboration, and a peek into the lives of the fruity.

About Us

Fruitslice exclusively showcases work created by members of the LGBTQA+ community. This commitment to providing a dedicated space where Queer voices are centered is fundamental to our mission. While we maintain this policy, we respect that identity is personal and nuanced; we trust contributors to determine whether they align with our community focus.

Publication Schedule

Fruitslice publishes quarterly on the solstices (March, June, September, and December).

Submissions are now open for Issue 9 on the theme: Kill the Part that Cringes

There’s something tender about watching someone care too much, try too hard, or feel too deeply in public. We have been trained to recoil from unguarded enthusiasm and protect ourselves from secondhand embarrassment by maintaining distance from anything genuine without the protective layer of irony.

Cringe is almost always the collision between authentic human emotion and our collective agreement to pretend we don’t have feelings. It’s sincerity without armor. “That’s so cringe” has become our cultural shorthand for dismissing anything that dares to take itself seriously, honestly, emotionally, or without shame. 

The fear of looking foolish silences us through preemptive shame. The cringe-opticon is always watching! Every genuine emotion is subject to screenshots and viral mockery. We’re trapped in a hall of mirrors where every genuine impulse reflects back as embarrassment. In this “vulnerability economy,” where openness itself can be a kind of performance, how do we tell the difference between authenticity and its simulation? 

This is our collective fear of being fully human in front of others and the result is a flattening of human expression into whatever narrow band won’t get you ratio’d on Twitter. AI is becoming the ultimate “cringe-crutch,” promising to save us from the beautiful humiliation of being human and getting it wrong.

It takes real bravery to love something unironically, to care without constantly reassuring everyone that you’re not that invested, actually.

The spaces we’ve been taught to find embarrassing are often where real community happens. Chosen family forms around shared willingness to be uncool together. Connection requires risk and change is built on failure. The regime profits from our inaction and apathy. Sincerity disrupts power structures built on cynicism and revolution runs on vulnerability. The most radical act might be caring publicly, obviously, without apology. 

Cringe culture and its reactionary ideologies have long normalized the humiliation of marginalized communities by downplaying the ritual harassment and abuse of Black and Brown, Trans*, Queer, Disabled, and Fat people. Who gets to be “cringe,” and who gets to be “authentic,” has never been evenly distributed. Reclaiming vulnerability is also reclaiming power.

For this issue, we’re looking for stories that reclaim vulnerability as strength, embrace embarrassment, abandon assimilation, and examine the root of your cringing. Show us what it means to love something unironically and to risk sincerity in a world that rewards cynicism. Send us your earnest manifestos and overwrought love letters, your genuine enthusiasm, your unabashed obsessions, and your unironic joys. Share the feelings you thought were too earnest.

How do we “kill the part that cringes” so the part that loves can finally breathe?