Dubious sources report that the Flat Earth Collective was founded in October 2006 by four so-called skepticians:

Tom Andes was born and raised in New Hampshire, educated at Loyola University New Orleans and San Francisco State University, and currently resides in Fayetteville, Arkansas, where he teaches composition at Northwest Arkansas Community College.  A recent resident at Vermont Studio Center and Ragdale Foundation for the Arts, he has taught fiction writing at San Francisco State University, where he worked as fiction editor of Fourteen Hills and received the Leo Litwak Award from Transfer.  His work has appeared or will be forthcoming in News from the Republic of LettersArkansas Literary ForumMirage#4/Period(ical)MuthafuckaUsed Cat, and Apalachee Review.  A chapbook, “Life Before the Storm and Other Stories,” will appear from Cannibal Books later in 2010.  He sometimes blogs here.

David William Hill is a writer, editor and teacher who divides his time between Hong Kong and the San Francisco Bay Area.  His work has appeared in several journals, including Cimarron Review, Watchword, and Hobart Online.

Jim Nelson’s work has appeared in We Still LikeNorth American Review, The Erotic Review, Instant City, Switchback, SmokeLong Quarterly, Watchword, and other fine literary venues.  He holds an MFA in Creative Writing from San Francisco State University where he has also taught.  Awards include Honorable Mention in the San Francisco Browning Society Dramatic Monologue Competiton, First Prize in the Clark College Fiction Contest, and a Webby nomination for his webzine Ad Nauseam.  He’s a prior Fiction Editor for Transfer, former Web Director for Parthenon West Review, and a Floundering Skeptician of the Flat Earth Collective.  He can be located on the Web at barbecuingpeople.com.

Andrew Touhy is a refiner, part-time, ajitter. Is a bastard of the system, an unreward of the state, lefty. You may locate his work in words, elaborately sounded structures, on the bull. Lids can be a feature in New American Writing, Web ConjunctionsNew Orleans Review, Colorado ReviewEleven ElevenFourteen HillsQuarter After EightWatchword, The Collagist, erstwhile elsewhere, at 857 Haight Street, and over on the bench. Dog park ahoy. He’s looking.