Tag Archives: Flash Fiction

April Furious Fiction

Time for another failed Australian Writers Centre Furious Fiction story. Failed only insomuch as it failed to place. I actually liked how it turned out, even if the judges didn’t.

April 2020 Furious Fiction criteria:

  • Start on the side of a road.
  • Include the words APRON, PIGMENT, RIBBON, ICON, LEMON
  • Include a splash.

Shortlisted stories and winner can be read here.

My Story Placed: Not a cracker
My Story Word Count: 498
My Story Title: Stakeholder Liaison
My Story Story: This was an attempt at the thriller genre, which I don’t really go into much, despite being a horror writer.

Stakeholder Liaison
by Natalie J E Potts

The splash of rain on my face woke me. Where was I? I sat up, instantly regretting it. The world spun as pain burned the back of my head. Had someone hit me again?

I looked around. I was on an apron of a muddy track where it joined a pot-holed road. Next to me was a lemon of an old car. It wasn’t mine. The company would never let me drive something so cheap.

I was cold and needed to get out of the rain so I could think straight. Using the bumper of the car for support, I stumbled around to the driver’s door. I collapsed into the front seat and pulled the door shut against the cold outside. Something bit painfully into my knee; the key was in the ignition.

It took a couple of turns before the engine caught, then I cranked up the heater. Spiderwebs unfurled in the weak breeze from the vents like ribbons, and I smelled the burning warmth before I felt it.

It took longer than it should have to realise that if the car was running, I could drive. I put it into drive and let off the break. The back of the car suddenly slammed down onto the road, and the subsequent grinding made it clear I wasn’t going anywhere.

A memory blossomed; a woman with a flat tyre. She’d seemed young at first, but once I’d stopped I could see the pigment of her lipstick bleeding into the barcode lines around her elderly lips. She looked like death.

A different smell started to fill the car. Exhaust fumes. The rust-bucket had broken open somewhere when I’d driven it off the jack. I wound the window knob, but nothing happened. I tried turning off the engine, but the key was now jammed.

I had to get out.

I pulled the plastic door handle and it broke off in my hand. Reaching across to the passenger door, I tried to coax it open, but its handle disintegrated like it was centuries old. Or sabotaged.

The fumes became overpowering as dizziness overtook me. Without considering the consequences, I smashed my elbow against the window. It bruised my arm, but had no impact on the glass. These old cars were built like tanks. Awkwardly, I coiled up in the seat to give my legs room to kick the windscreen. Nothing.

With increasingly heavy lids, I opened the glove-box to search for something I could use to smash my way out. Inside was a single white envelope, emblazoned with the icon of my company.

It looked like one of the many envelopes I’d dropped around to inform farmers of the groundwater contamination, for which we were responsible. Compensation was promised. It’s why I was there.

I turned the envelope over to see the name of my murderer. The front was blank, save for a single sentence in an eerily good facsimile of my own hand; “I can’t live with what we’ve done.”

The End

June Progress

I haven’t written much more of any of the three novels I was considering. I tried, I really did, but it was like wading through a vat of honey. I just wasn’t getting anywhere. So, I logged into Duotrope and had a look at some of the upcoming anthology calls for submissions, just to see what was out there.

As usual, I opened this month with my Furious Fiction entry – which I keep entering out of pig-headed belligerence rather than any belief that I might get placed. Then I had a crack at some brand-new short stories, borne of the calls for submissions I found. For the first time in a long time, I have felt like a writer.

Writing new words, with no expectations, and not very long pieces, has been great. When your novel is giving you grief at 40,000 words, it really does weigh you down. When a 4,000 word story gives you trouble, it’s no big deal because it only takes a couple of days to write anyway. Also, there is a good chance you’d have thought of the trouble before you even started it, so short story storylines tend to be less problematic (for me).

I do have to complete a re-write on a novel that I will be doing soon so I can make the most of a possible opportunity. But for the next week I’m going to stick with these short stories to get the writing muscle working again and then hopefully I can transfer that productivity onto the novel.

May Furious Fiction

The Australian Writers’ Centre runs a 500 word ‘Furious Fiction’ competition over the first weekend of every month. They set specific criteria each month which the story must meet, but besides that you’ve got full creative control. I’ve been entering since December 2019, but there are many who have been entering since it started in February 2018.

I’ve recently found the challenge great for getting me out of my COVID writing funk. It’s also been really interesting because I’ve often gone into genres I don’t normally write.

The problem is, if you don’t get shortlisted, no-one ever gets to see your story. For me, the whole point of writing is for others to read your work, so I’m going to start posting the stories on my blog. Below is this month’s entry, which didn’t get shortlisted, or longlisted for that matter. But I liked it…

May 2020 #FuriousFiction.

Criteria

  • Must start with the word ‘Five’
  • Must include something being replaced
  • Must include the phrase ‘a silver lining’

Shortlisted stories and winner can be read here.

My Story Placed: Not a cracker
My Story Word Count: 496
My Story Title: Brother
My Story Story: I haven’t managed to get a placement with any of my stories, so I moved away from Spec Fic for this one and tried out a more experimental format.

Brother
By Natalie J E Potts

Five mistakes got me here. With the gun pointed at my head, I couldn’t help but reflect on them.

  1. Trusting my brother.

From pulling my pigtails at 6 to crashing my car at 36, he’d never been trustworthy. He’d gotten in with the wrong crowd and was misunderstood. We’d been making so many excuses for him that I guess it was now a habit. I’d break that habit today. Assuming I survived.

  1. Helping him out.

When he asked me to take his car to the mechanic, I asked why he couldn’t do it. He said he had a job interview. He was trying to set himself straight. The implication was it’d be my fault if he went off the rails again. His next call would be to mum if I said no, then I’d never hear the end of it. So, I went around to his place to get the damned car.

  1. Going to his mechanic.

When I pulled up at the mechanic’s it looked like a dump. The gate was locked. I should have driven on to my mechanic to see if he could squeeze me in. But someone came out and undid the padlock, like he’d been waiting for me.

The ‘Mechanic’ took less than five minutes. I know I’m not great with cars, but my brother drives a beat-up old Toyota, not a Porsche, so even I knew they weren’t doing anything to the engine by looking in the boot. I was glad to get out of there when they said I could go. No-one asked me to settle a bill.

  1. Looking in the boot.

As soon as I was out of view, I pulled over and popped the boot. It was surprisingly clean given the mess that everything else in my brother’s life tended toward. The only thing in there was a suitcase.

It was locked, but plenty of international travel had taught me that a hair-clip did the job better than a key anyway. I cracked both locks in less than a minute. The suitcase had a silver lining, but I could hardly see it for all the small bags of white powder.

  1. Returning to my brother’s house.

I slammed the boot shut and took the long way back to my brother’s house, via the shops. I wanted to be sure I wasn’t followed. I eventually pulled up in my brother’s garage. Only the garage wasn’t empty. One of my brother’s bad influences was in the corner with a gun. I only saw him after I got out.

“Take the car,” I said, dumping the keys on the roof.

“You bet I will. But I ain’t turning my back on ya. Piss off.”

Like I was going to hang around?! I ran to my car and left before he’d started the engine. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t there when he realised that I’d swapped the contents of the bags for a kilo of flour.

 

The End

Self-Assessment

One of the big reasons why it is good to be a part of a don’t-pull-any-punches writers group is that they can tell you when you are off the mark. I find it very hard to assess my writing in terms of what is good and bad. In the past, the members of my writers group have had no trouble making that distinction.

Sure, they may sometimes get it wrong, ideas of good and bad are very subjective after all, but they can save you a lot of time identifying what’s not working, and can usually give you some hints about how to fix it. I think I need that help at the moment.

I have a piece of flash fiction that keeps coming back to me in record time. It’s short, punchy and complete – so is the sort of thing that normally gets accepted the first or second time I send it out. This one just came back to me in two days. So clearly there is something very wrong with it.

I’m not part of a group at the moment, and I feel that loss most months. I think it might be time to try and track a new group down. Wish me luck!

High Expectations

This week I realised that I’ve been setting my expectations a little too high. I was berating myself over it being a ‘non-writing’ week again and feeling a bit down. The thing is though, I did write. An idea for a flash fiction story came to me earlier in the week, and after thinking about it endlessly on the bus, I finally wrote it on Saturday.

And this I considered a non-writing week.

I think part of my problem is that I have so many things that I need to do each week as part of my job that I feel like I need to make similar inroads into my writing goals. The truth is, if I wasn’t getting paid to be there, I wouldn’t be as diligent in getting to work on time and dedicating my whole day to it. I’d probably end up playing too many games of FreeCell at work as well.

So, until my writing is paying the bills, I need to go a little softer on my expectations. I know some people would argue that I’m not going to get my writing to pay the bills if I don’t spend more time on it, but I worry that my mental health will suffer if I try to do two full time jobs. Not to mention my relationships, family, and cleanliness!

Idea factory

I just got a new idea for a story, and I love the idea. I got the idea while reading someone else’s novel, one that I’m not enjoying. The funny thing is that my new idea bears no resemblance to the story I’m reading. I mis-read a sentence, which sparked the totally off-topic idea. This makes me wonder if the idea was always there?

I truly believe story ideas are out in the ether, and occasionally a write makes a connection to one of those ideas. I hope that if the writer ignores it, then the idea goes back and waits for another author, but it wouldn’t surprise me if the idea doesn’t get recycled. Humans are a bit wasteful, so why not with ideas as well?

For the past three months I’ve only had minimal creative output. I confess I did write a flash fiction story earlier this week, but the idea felt forced and concocted. You can do that with flash (though not always well). This new idea feels fresh, and alive and like it will take me to amazing places I haven’t even begun to think about if I follow it. It’s a story out of the ether.

Maybe the flash fiction was a sign that the muse was coming back. Today I know it is. I want to explore this idea. I want to see what happens. I want to stop watching TV and working in the garden and all the other diversions I have been choosing lately and I want to sit down and write.

It feels good to be back.

Publication!

I have to warn you, this story contains the F-word. Yes, there are farts in it. I was brought up properly, where a lady does not fart (unless asleep, but even then we deny it)… but that got me thinking about when else a lady might fart. And so A Reluctant Zombie was born.

I’ve been warned against publishing this story as it has a bit of a pull my finger quality that is perhaps not becoming of my writing career. I actually sat on it for nearly two years before finally deciding to send it out. There is no deeper meaning and no call to arms to make a difference in the world. It is just a silly story, written by a silly girl in a silly mood. Sometimes I can do that.

The other difference with this story to my usual offerings is that it is unashamedly biographical. The girl starts out watching my TV on my lounge, she lives with my cat, goes to my old office, and shocks my old boss. You could say it was me except for the lack of vegetables, and of course the farting. My mum brought me up right, remember.

So please, if you are going to read it, say no to the plastic bag at the supermarket, take your keep-cup to the coffee shop, and please turn off your standby power equipment at the wall. My story won’t tell you to do that, so it will make me feel better if you do.

I hope you enjoy A Reluctant Zombie, but please, put on your silly hat first. And no, I will not pull your finger.

Publication! – Sea Canaries

This is a flash fiction story which I wrote immediately after completing my novella earlier this year. It felt weird not sitting down to write after work each evening, but I knew I wasn’t ready to jump into a novel yet. Sea Canaries was my answer to winding down the writing spring of creativity that was still coiled too tightly.

As soon as I read the call for submissions this story appeared in my head. I wrote the first draft in one sitting (as one would expect of an under 500 word piece) but I edited it over a period of two weeks before I was happy with it. My main issue was that the version of the story I first wrote was about 615 words long, and I had to get it under 500. I was very attached to the excess 115 words.

Without giving too much away, the submission called for horrors of the deep. I wanted to write a story where the horror was coming from the deep, but the monsters were much closer to home. Later this year I’ll publish the full 615 word version on my website so you can read it as I first experienced it. I’m proud of this story and really enjoyed walking around in these skins for a fortnight, as much as I never want to live it for real.

Sea Canaries appears in the Anemone Enemy and is available in both print and ebook formats. I hope you enjoy reading my story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

AnemoneEnemyCover

Publication! Carbon Leap

Yes, it has been a long time since the last one, but the fantastic Antipodean SF have published my story Carbon Leap. And I’m more than a bit chuffed that the header page picture links to my story! Exciting eh?!?

This story got rejected a few times, and the feedback I kept getting was that it felt like it should be longer. But when I wrote it, it came out at around 500 words and it felt like I had said everything I wanted to say. So I’m glad it got to stay flash and it got out into the world.

So I hope you like Carbon Leap, and I hope it makes you stop and ponder the next time you get offered a quick fix.

Publication!

Last week my flash fiction story Ice Mine was published by Antipodean SF. It is but one of the many flash fiction stories that has tumbled out of me this year. Hopefully I’ll be able to find a few more homes for the other stories before the year is through.

Antipodean SF was the first place to publish one of my stories many years ago, so I will be forever grateful to Antipodean for giving me my first taste of success. Ion Newcombe is the tireless editor of this magazine and he is not afraid to work with new authors. He wants to see you published!

The magazine looks pretty schmick too, so if you haven’t seen it, please do check it out and lend your support to this fantastic little zine. And if you don’t feel like reading, there is a radio version of the show you can listen to as well.

Thanks Ion, and I hope you all enjoy Ice Mine 🙂