If a bright spot can be found in these days of pandemic and seclusion, it’s that many more new journals have come to our attention. Since March, The Short List has featured 112 new inclusions, places where writers of short prose can submit their stuff. If you’re anything like us, these past few months have been a boon to writing. Now, it’s time to start submitting.
Keep checking back for opportunities to publish your short stories and flash fiction. And if you haven’t already, please follow us on Twitter for notifications about new journals.
Of the dozen stories published in 2019, this may have been my favorite. Atmospheric and eerie, it tells quite a complex tale in about three-thousand words. First published by Eternal Haunted Summer in their Winter Solstice issue.
by DL Shirey
Veta barked. As dog breeds went, the bone-thin hound would have been hard to identify. Jorge claimed she was purebred, but as underfed, filthy and beat up as she was, Veta looked more like a stray gone wild.
The dog trotted on the sand and gravel in the shade of a four-foot barranca. The edge of the streambed seemed to defy gravity, standing firm against the wind from the Chihuahuan Desert, each gust kicking off bits from the brittle layers of sediment. Sprouts of sour grass clung magically to the walls, out of the direct rays of the harsh, low sun.
This piece was bare-bones from its inception. It started as a 50-word story for blink-ink as a submission to their “Ghost Bus” issue. Although they published a fewofmy micro fictions previously, this one was rejected. So, I took a hard look at a revision, added a whopping 14 more words and voila. The good folks at dreams walking published it in issue #2.
Horror writing has always been part of my speculative toolbox. When I started writing these stories, there were things I vowed NOT to do: werewolves howling at the moon, unearthing a mummy, or the same old vampire tale. This pledge came with a disclaimer, that I would give myself the go-ahead if I found a unique way to approach tried-and-true monsters. “The Difference Blood Makes” is such a tale. Available in ebook or print it was first published as part of the third Weird and Whatnot anthology (11/16/19 issue).
The Difference Blood Makes
by DL Shirey
[Manchester, England 1951]
“That’s correct. No names, just the place and year where the portrait was taken,” Merrick said. “Most of my subjects prefer to remain anonymous. This scholarly looking devil happened to be in my hometown, a childhood friend patient enough to sit many times while I perfected my process. Over here is an example which better explains it.”
A dozen reporters and art critics hurried after Merrick, toward the gallery’s far wall. His quick pace belied his eighty years. A few of the stragglers were jotting notes. One wrote spry to describe the artist. Another scribbled dapper.
Welcome to 2037. The future is not some bleak, post-apocalyptic wasteland. Oh, contraire. The world is exceedingly happy. Everything is good. All needs are met. Everyone is going to have a nice day. Published by Freedom Fiction.
Four or five years ago, on a trip to New Mexico, I went to a museum and saw an exhibit of paper clothing. Actually, there were more than clothes on display; many everyday objects were also represented—laptop, guitar, bicycle—all made from colorful crepe paper. They came from Vietnam, handmade in tribute to people for whom those objects held special significance. Now, I won’t reveal anything more, that would be spoiling the story. But learning about this lovely tradition stayed with me and was the key to writing “Sunday Dress.” Published by the UK journal ink, sweat and tears.
Thanks to everyone who visited this site in 2019. You came from far and wide, according to my WordPress statistics. The top five countries viewing my blog were: United States, Canada, United Kingdom, India and, for reasons which escape me, Palestinian Territories.
Visitors came primarily to view The Short List, which now features 1,200 entries. There were 265 additions to the list this year, an average of 22 new publications per month. Other than Facebook, Twitter and WordPress Reader, the top five referrers to this blog were: Scribofile, Sandra Seamans, Christopher Fielden, Winkwriters and 805 Lit. I appreciate you spreading the word.
The Short List is for writers of flash fiction and short prose. The list is organized by word count, providing links to the submission guidelines and potential publication. These were the top five publication links that were clicked this year: Akashic Books, The Folded Word, Martian, Unstamatic and Purple Fire. I also keep an ever-growing list of departed publications. A moment of silence for those we lost this year.
Other than The Short List, a few other of my blog posts received top clicks: 1-800-CALL-GOD, Barbarism, 6:58, A Fortune, Yesterday’s Pictures and Webs of Flesh. It is no secret that these posts are for stories I wrote. In fact, 14 stories of mine were published or reprinted in 2019. Click on over and give them a read.
Here’s to a Happy New Year and for more words in print in 2020.
With some short stories, persistence pays off. Curveball has been searching for a home for nearly four years. I knew the characters were interesting and plot was good, but the story didn’t fit neatly in a genre; it touched the supernatural and a crime was involved, but it fell somewhere in-between. Submitted 25 times and rewritten twice, this tale was published in October 2019 by Freedom Fiction.
by DL Shirey
Ravé Eloh was born a bit wider than the other babies. Not fatter, wider. The doctor told his mother that Ravé’s body was made up of two conjoined twins who had barely started to separate. Then stopped.
He had a third kidney, he told me, a coccyx with two nubby tails, and a small, secondary larynx. But it was Ravé’s face where the twosome really showed. He had a wider-than-usual space between his eyes, a nose with a broad bridge and slight double hump. And when viewed in profile, one side was more feminine compared to the other.
Although it was biologically impossible, Ravé believed he was one-half woman. He called all his extra parts Renee.
Everyone who reads this piece asks if it’s true. Thankfully, no. The story is fictional and was originally submitted to Reflex Fiction in April 2019. It didn’t win the contest, but they were moved by it and decided to publish it anyway.
by DL Shirey
The boy beams when finished. Beams. Like the face of God’s son whose name I no longer invoke. For eleven years he’s smiled whenever he sees me. Smiles when I feed him yoghurt. Smiles as I clean up shit and vomit. Gabe is a happy child. Happiest when he finishes a drawing.