Submit to the online literary magazine of short fiction, Subtle Fiction, found at http://subtlefiction.wordpress.com
As of late February, we have work scheduled up to 9 July 2018 but we are always on the lookout for good work of any style and topic.
Subtle Fiction is in the list of literary magazines in NewPages, Poets & Writers, Every Writers Resource, Duotrope, The Submission Grinder, and DL Shirey’s The Short List. Thank you to all the people behind these resources.
Thank you so much.
My new prose book, Alone and Other Flash Fiction, is now available on Amazon as a kindle e-book.
Alone and Other Flash Fiction is a collection of short short stories about aloneness and loneliness. The title piece is about a woman who is lonely for so many things in her life but the story ultimately surprises the reader with her honesty.
I have four fiction pieces published in the new issue of Otoliths, edited by Mark Young. Thanks, Mark.
These four pieces will be in Alone and Other Flash Fiction, coming in December.
New book What We Give: a novella has just been published as a free ebook at https://en.calameo.com/books/005063882e0b5bfd690e8
This is my third book of prose. It tells of a widow and her ruminations about life with her husband, her doubts and doubtfulness, his exactness and charm, and the consequences of death.
“Let us remember our loved ones, our lovers who took us again and again without fail, without success, only with love, by love.
Let’s think about his presencethe one we miss, beside us in bed, beside us in the car, in front of us at the table, beside us walking arm in arm at the park.
Let’s feel his love, gone now, but still here. Still everywhere we are.”
excerpt from Chapter 3
There is heat. And there is the sun. You are the one, husband. You are all my ones together. All the lusts in the desert are you. All the water in the ocean. The seven seas.
The seven continents. The beauty of seven colours. Wisdom of every shade. Knowledge of every fruit.
Love, I am undone by you. I want to love you more now that you are gone.
Is that possible?
I talk to you everyday. You are with me all the time.
The degrees of geometry. The chemistry of love. The height of architecture. The sweet music of voice, of silence. Your voice.
The touch of geography. The valley and the fields. The politics of cartography.
Everything I see is you. Comes from you.
My desk has a lamp, three pens, three notebooks, one hundred pages of blank paper.
Every time I write, I think of you.
I wrote about my friend today. I wrote about my mother and my father today.
I thought of you. But I left the words to you.
Phone Call and Other Prose Writings
New prose collection can be viewed for free at:
Read excerpts here:
Excerpt from “Doubt”:
“I am picking up my pen at last. Somebody I didn’t know said to me once face to face. We were having lunch. He had just decided to be told something. I heard him say to me: You could write about your life and make a lot out of it. I didn’t write much after that. My life isn’t easily told being how silent everything is–I looked and looked at him, and he turned like a life about to be someone. And I turned again–as him and me–until both of us were nothing but the other, separate as two answers without a thinker.
Outside, there is a world attending to those who know they want. I am doubtful of everything lately: the colour of my eyes, now darkening. Then the light written by his eyes.”