Four More Recommendations from the Fabulously Supportive Flash Fiction Community

Lake Garda & the beautiful Dolomites, Italy, Photo by Shai Pal on Unsplash

Hi from Italy my friends!

First, a couple of quick reminders…

A few spots remain in my upcoming 3-in-90 live, generative workshop!

“How to Write Standout Flash Fiction” - Saturday, September 28th, 1:00 - 2:30 p.m. Eastern Time, U.S.

As a past journal editor and frequent contest judge, I know what makes some flash stand out from the crowd. I'll provide tips and prompts aimed at getting your stories on the shortlist or to the top of the slush pile.

Go HERE for more information and to sign up. Note: There are openings for the October 12th and December 7th sessions as well, and a discount for purchasing all three in the series!

Also, upcoming…Free for paid subscribers: A Flash Immersion Extravaganza Mini-Sprint!

This is a free, three-day intense, immersive workshop of writing to prompts, reading and discussing and giving feedback, Q & A, with a group Zoom reading/salon to be scheduled for a later date. Sunday, September 29th thru Tuesday, October 1st. No need to register, just show up and be ready to write up a storm! Consider upgrading to take part in this event and future flash intensives. You’ll also gain access to the Art of Flash Fiction archives, which includes all of the past Extravaganza prompts!

Back in June, I asked the wonderful flash community on Twitter for some recommendations of flash from writers they feel deserve more eyes on their work. And of course, the flash community being so generous and supportive, I received a TON of recommendations. See my July newsletter for the first set of recommended stories. I’ll mention more in a future newsletter, but once again, I chose four, with links to their work and a few words about why you ought to read them if you’ve not already.

Okay, first up: Kim Magowan’s recommendation of a flash by a writer who, previous to submitting their story to Pithead Chapel, was completely new to her. Please read “C D E F G A” by J. W. McCollum.

Why you should read it:

For starters, there’s that immediately compelling opening line:

“Dad accepts all offers: her beehives ($120), her boxing gloves ($10), her garden gnomes ($50), her wetsuit ($150), her welding hood ($30), her black Prada ($120).”

I love objects in flash. They can do so much work. With these objects, we get a sense of the character, the person they’ve lost. There are also those unexpected and delightful verbs: the kids “joust” her squash rackets, “hobby horse” her metal detector, “tortures” her mandolin.

More unexpected delights. That penultimate paragraph, complete with the now crossed out asking prices. What an effective way to convey the shift, there, and into the final paragraph:

“I hold the same strings she held, run fingertips across the same frets and wonder what songs she sang, hoping they’ll find their way to me from somewhere. Some chords give me trouble, and my hand cramps after too long. It’s only been a few weeks, but I’m making progress.”

The “sad museum” and another loss, but that ending is not without hope. Lovely flash.

Veronika Fuchs recommended this stunner by David Luntz, entitled “A Fall Play: In One Act & Three Scenes” in Bulb Culture Collective, originally published by Orca Literary Journal 2020 & included in Best Small Fictions 2021.

Why you should read it:

I love the conceit at work here, setting the story out as a play, but our expectations are subverted by the lush, evocative writing from the first-person point-of-view. “Scene I Cabin. Farm and Woods. Late October” opens the piece thusly:

“Beyond my porch, a violent gust scatters leaves toward the afternoon light. The last train of butterflies flees south. A lone hawk rides a thermal, spiraling upwards. The sky spreads over us, as if yanked from infinity, still bleeding from its blue umbilicus. Straggling bands of cirrus cinch the wound.”

The deceptive tranquility of this opening is then abruptly interrupted. I say “deceptive” because let’s look at those word choices: “a violent gust” and “yanked” and “still bleeding,” “straggling,” and “wound.” Not typical descriptors in this case. The diction serves as foreshadowing.

“The shot came from four hundred yards away…”

And now we are thrust into the forward movement of the story. We learn some background: this narrator is 80 years old, has a bad hip, a daughter buried beneath a tree. Luntz makes the man’s struggle so palpable, we almost begin to wonder if he’s the one who’s been shot. But no. He knows whatever creature had been shot, the shooter was not close enough to kill it. He’s intent to save its suffering. The daughter buried beneath the tree is ever-present in this story. (I talked a bit about the importance of having an “off-stage story” in last week’s newsletter.) The writing all through is painful, moving, transcendent. An unforgettable story. Any naysayers should read this and see the power and beauty of flash fiction done well.

Up next, I have a recommendation from tucker l-p, who provided a link to Emily Costa’s website where I found a feast of linked publications. I’d read Emily’s work before and trust me, you want to know her writing if you don’t already. From the list, I chose her piece, “Vessel” published in Had.

Why you should read it:

Bianca is quiet, perceptive, clairvoyant. She sees people’s auras or sometimes, she feels the air around them. Some give her a good feeling. Some not. We are carried along by this magic, her voice, and the rich atmosphere Costa so deftly creates in this story.

“I see light around other people we know. Mike D’Amelio glows blue. Mr. Luciano glows white, but I think it’s because they lost their baby last year. Every time I’m near Brendan from health class, I get really cold.”

Costa knows how to wield the unspoken here, how to raise its volume and make us lean in.

“The old men playing scopa at a card table are fading away, and I turn so I can’t see.”

This gift, or curse, sets Bianca apart, scares her a little. She keeps her knowledge to herself. Teo’s absence is the loss at the heart of this story, for both Bianca and Gel. This story will stay with me. Now go read everything by Emily Costa you can get your eyes on. “Her book Until It Feels Right, a collection of diary entries chronicling her experience with intensive CBT for obsessive-compulsive disorder, is out now from Autofocus Books.”

Last, but certainly not least, Andrew Careaga recommended the work of L Mari Harris, a writer whose work I know and admire. I was again given a link to a website and chose from a list of her many incredible stories. I pretty much love everything she writes and everything Ghost Parachute publishes, so I’ll showcase her flash, “Ghost” from their May issue.

Why you should read it:

Harris captures a voice here that immediately gets our attention. It’s simplistic, almost like a Dick and Jane children’s book. This is how we enter Uncle’s head as he’s entrusted, for the first time, with the care of his baby niece.

In a recent newsletter, I talked about how a deft and well-placed flashback can add layers of meaning and complexity to a flash story.

Harris accomplishes so much with this shift to flashback:

“When they were young, Uncle’s sister had a doll with red hair and glasses. Uncle’s sister carried the doll everywhere. Uncle’s sister loved her doll so much. Uncle would tease sister, would grab the doll and hold it over his head. Sister would cry and cry and jump and jump.”

And elegantly, Harris weaves in more backstory about Uncle, enough to give us a clear and concerning picture of the man, for whom life has not been easy, for whom life is often painful and confusing and disappointing. The ending of this story took my breath away as Harris knows exactly how much to show us and how much to leave to our imaginations. A masterful flash.

I hope you enjoyed these flashes as much as I did. Please do share your thoughts! I’d also love to hear of any recommendations from all of you in The Art of Flash Fiction community! So feel free leave a comment below.

Thanks for reading. Amore a tutti,

Kathy