fiction friday
Showing posts with label fiction friday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fiction friday. Show all posts
Alas, it's been a little while since Fiction Friday has shown its face around here. But never fear! It has returned, with a pick from one of my favorite authors of all time: Maggie Stiefvater.


You may remember Maggie Stiefvater's name from somewhere around the Internet because a) it is visible on the covers of the pieces of brilliance called The Scorpio Races, The Raven Boys, The Dream Thieves, and Blue Lily, Lily Blue; b) it is attached to her hilarious and enlightening Tumblr; or c) it appears impossible to pronounce and therefore kind of sticks in your brain (Maggie has declared her last name is pronounced steve-otter, if you were wondering). You may also remember Maggie Stiefvater's name from somewhere around the Internet because I fangirl over her... well, often, to understate things.

Some of you may also recall that I'm a fan of Twitter fiction. I even featured it in a Fiction Friday post once. I think it's a very innovative form of storytelling full of possibility.

So when the annual Twitter Fiction Festival rolled around this year and I learned Maggie Stiefvater would be participating, I was ecstatic. And not disappointed in the least. As my fifteenth (!!) Fiction Friday feature, I'd like to present Maggie's "Stories About Gods", a hilarious and inventive tale about... yes, gods.

Instead of the usual excerpt, I'm pleased to be able to embed the entire piece in Storify form below:



Did you enjoy that? Are you a fan of Maggie Stiefvater and/or Twitter fiction? Let me know in the comments below!

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Hello, everyone, and happy Fiction Friday! (What are you talking about? It's totally a real Thing with a Capital T. Go with it.)

This week's rec was published by Literary Orphans, a magazine that's known for publishing some pretty top-notch material despite its comparatively generous acceptance rates. I had vaguely heard of the publication before around the online lit sphere, but I hadn't really delved into it until I stumbled upon its archives by accident.

(Let's face it; the entirety of the Internet is composed of fortuitous accidents and we all like it that way.)

Anyway, I took one look at the magazine's 'mission statement' of sorts and I was absolutely intrigued. It's a gorgeous idea captured in equally gorgeous language:
It’s the nervous glances back at your apartment when you go for a walk without your cell phone. It’s the nostalgia you have for squeaking cassette tapes and Soviet ICBMs. It’s an analog dream in a digital era. The writing on Literary Orphans is an exorcism of the mind of its contributors, and reading the work here is putting up your fists and getting confrontational with solitude–solitude in a world where neon signs are out and LCD billboards are in, a world where you can’t think for following because everyone is doing all the thinking for you.
The Lit Orphans story that I read was "Gray Girls" by Tess Walsh. This is a rich and reflective short story about two sisters, Harper and Ophelia Gray. Its greatest strength lies in its characterization; Harper and Ophelia are polar opposites, and that's evident in the mood, the tone, the taste of the entire piece. Walsh explores how we don't really realize how tightly intertwined our selves and souls are with those of our siblings until it's almost too late to fix any damage each of us has done to the other. We're shown that our siblings can be our lifelines and our weaknesses all at once. It seems ordinary, and maybe on some level all of it is, but Walsh's writing tells us the truth: deep down, it's anything but.

It helps that the writing is really elegant and wonderful, too:
The girl in the bed looked like Ophelia’s corpse, bones and wires glued to the skin as if there were nothing left inside anymore but parts and strings. Unnatural. Something dug up from a grave and scrubbed over. She looked even worse than their dead father had in the casket, and Harper could hear the breath shaking in her own lungs as panic crested inside her, lots of foam and the sensation of drowning.
You can read the full story here.

Enjoy! (Anyway, ahh! Thank goodness it's Friday, right?)

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Long time, no Fiction Fridays! I've been neglecting this feature for entirely too long, which is lamentable, considering that it's one of my favorites to do on the blog.

This week's pick is a piece called "Five Fairytales About the End of the World", written by Chloe N. Clark. I'm just going to let that title sit in your head for a bit.

It's beautiful, isn't it?

The story was published in an online literary magazine called Gingerbread House, which publishes magical poetry and fiction. The magazine tells its submitters to "Take your fairy tale and twist it. Bend your fantasy to suit your needs. Be original and fresh, loose and lovely." And those are some pretty fabulous submission guidelines, if you ask me. I'm looking forward to reading more of Gingerbread House now that I've discovered it, and I advise you all to take a look into its archives as well!

I love this piece because it's composed of dark, magical vignettes that really give an impending sense of doom without being too forceful about it. It's absolutely exquisite, and chilling in the best sort of way. The writing is fluid and lovely and really controlled, elegant without being overdone. And the ending is perfection.

Here's my favorite sentence in the whole piece, just to give you an idea:
Death’s voice was boats breaking up in the middle of the sea and buildings crumbling in wartime and ice that cracks too soon.
But don't just let me tell you about it; see for yourself! The full story is available to read here.

(NOTE: It's Alyssa's birthday today! Go give her some virtual cake. Meanwhile, I'll be helping celebrate the birthday of one of my family members, which is also today.)
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Long time no post! I'll be making up for my absence by spotlighting two pieces of short fiction available for free on the Internet, for my twelfth edition of Fiction Friday. You'll thank me later, because this week's stories are so, so gorgeous.

This Friday's first fiction pick is one that I found completely by accident on Twitter and am now so glad that I did. It's called "Little Doors of Blood and Bone" (don't you adore that title?), and it was written by Katherine Catmull, author of Summer and Bird, a middle grade book that I've been dying to read. The piece was featured on The Cabinet of Curiosities, a short fiction site updated periodically by authors Katherine Catmull, Stefan Bachmann, Claire Legrand, and Emma Trevayne.


This particular story is such a stunning one because of the way the prose and the premise work as a team to grab you and never let you go. That kind of writing - writing that's somehow in tune with itself - is hard to find and even harder to execute, so I admired that in this story. It peels open the layers of everyday life and turns them upside down in a delightfully inventive manner. Also, the magic in this is exquisite. It's one of those "I wish I'd thought of that" kind of things. And the ending! The ending is one of the best things about it.

Here's an excerpt, in case I haven't convinced you yet of this story's merit:
Instead, when Ida peered inside the little door, she saw a blue flame, teased and roused by a silky wind that swirled around it, smelling of smoke and sunbeam-dust. As Ida’s peering face blocked the bone-and-fur door, the wind withdrew, and the flame sank almost to nothing. Scattered around its embers were sharp, curving things—fangs, or claws, or both—and the tiny bones of birds.
The full story is available to read here.

My second Fiction Friday recommendation is "Madder Root and Rampion" by Sean R. Robinson. It was published in the fifth issue of Betwixt, a speculative literary magazine that I've only recently started looking into. From the little tastes I've had of the magazine, I'd definitely recommend it to you all, so do check the rest of the publication out as well as the story I'm highlighting below!


I loved this piece because of the rich descriptions and the subtle air of grief that it was permeated by. The use of second person here is perfection, and the slow but determined progression of the story is absolutely gorgeous. Robinson does a marvelous job of using a palette of words to paint a bold and lasting picture of a fantasy world steeped in mystique while building up characterization.

Here's the customary excerpt to seal the deal:
She has heard of you, scar breeder. Your names are stories in the rampion yards of Rasia and each one whispers down the caravan roads. She listens. You have laid tracks down the wrists of old women. Young men boast in their mead halls that they do not fear your phoenix-bone knife, though they live in the shadow of your tower and will not speak your name.
The full story can be read here.

So there you have it! Go forth and enjoy, and have a wonderful Fiction Friday.
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(EDIT: This is apparently my 150th post! How exciting and strangely fitting.)

(This is my second time doing a Fiction Friday on a Saturday, because I have the most terrible timing.)

I have some crazy amazing news for you all (but mostly for me). Some of you heard it on Twitter this week:
(The link in the tweet leads to the official winner announcement made by the Freshman Fifteens themselves. The info there sounds much more coherent and logical and nicely laid out, so head there if you're interested in a formal rundown of what's happening. If you'd like my disorganized version, stick with me.)

So, what does this "winner" thing mean?

It means I'll be part of a frighteningly cool group of teen writers who will be mentored by the Freshman Fifteens, a group of 2015 debut YA authors who have so generously extended this opportunity to us.

It means I specifically will be mentored by the amazing Kim Liggett, whose debut novel Blood and Salt will be out in 2015 from Putnam. I will even get to read said debut. (Psst. Add it to your TBR because it sounds so, so great. Seriously. GIVE ME ALL THE WITCHCRAFT. *cackles*)

It means my short story "Destinata" will be included in a collection of short stories by the aforementioned amazing teen writers and published as a whole on Wattpad.

Wait, how did this happen?

Back in July, I heard about this almost too-good-to-be-true contest opportunity for teen writers ages 13-19. I remembered a little belatedly that I was age 13-19. I messed around on a Google Doc, trying to get an idea for a short story. I dug up an old flash fiction contest entry that I wrote for Figment and then took down a few months ago. I tried to extend it. For a very, very long time, I failed.

Then, in the last two or three days before the deadline, I pounded out nearly three thousand words of story. And then I wrote a pitch on pure willpower. I even tweeted about it.
And then I uploaded "Destinata" and tried to push it out of my brain, because getting my hopes up wasn't going to be good for me. (Although I did do a little bit of tweet-gloating about the fact that I actually managed to get it in.)
But who am I kidding? I, along with many other teen Wattpadders, anxiously awaited the results of the contest.
And when I was contacted about being a winner, I did a not-so-little happy dance in my bedroom.

What's the story about, anyway?

 "Destinata" is a contemporary fantasy about Evie Lancaster, a girl who has to fight off a pretty debilitating curse. Here's part of the pitch (the rest is over on Wattpad):
Sixteen-year-old Evie is a Lancaster girl, cursed by her lineage to drive herself mad and drown if she ever kisses her true love. Until now, she's obeyed her overprotective mother; she's never given herself the chance to meet this love, wherever he or she is. Until now, she's been uncatchable. But when Elliot Morgan - the boy she's been crushing on from afar for five years - asks her if she'd like to have dinner with him, Evie says yes before she can stop herself.
And how about the other winners? You seem to be talking an awful lot about yourself right now.

 That's where the "Fiction Friday" part of this post comes in. I'd like to take a moment to highlight all of the other winning entries, because they all sound fabulous and so creative. I can't wait to read them when the collection is released in January, so I've included my favorite sentence from each of their entries.

"Soulless" by Rachel W., username Chandelier:
But I guess this is where the saying 'expect the unexpected' comes in, because I definitely did not anticipate the earth shattering catalyst in my life to be a roll of Charmin Ultra Strong. 
"Locked Out" by GracieWacie, username GracieWacie:
That wouldn't be too bad, if there wasn't a murderer on the loose.
"Violet" by Anne Lutz, username AnneLutz:
But there wasn't anything to say that would end his anger or Violet's pain.
"Mixed Messages" by Make Me Swoon, username MakeMeSwoon:
Alyssa Singh has never gotten over her first love; maybe it was because of how he simply smiled off her confession as his family drove away. 
"A Poisoned Pear" by Arminius, username Arminius:
When speaking of Johannes Skathi, the words lazy, worthless, and pay the damn rent get thrown around with alarming frequency. 
"The Married Tree" by Antara, username _coralsky_:
He was eternal and I was his bride. 
"Attachment" by Julia, username ceilingflower:
The wind stung like a warning on the tip of her tongue.
"Imagine" by Aisha, username Metaphorphosis:
But there's something about standing face to face with reality right in front of you that makes you think twice.
"Honestly" by Anne Brees, username AnneBrees:
Other people lie and steal for noble reasons: to feed their families or to keep warm at night.
"Leave the Light On" by Ashley, username ashjellison:
You have to find out who, or what is in your house, before it's too late. 
"The Voices in My Head" by Katie Spektor, username KatieSpektor:
And if everything is a lie, there is just one question: Is she really insane?
"Babysitting Grandma" by Coralie, username terryco:
What is it like to watch over someone who should be watching over you?
"A Thousand Stars" by Britton, username CutieFlutie:
"Someday," she would pause to smack her lips, "we'll all be dead, and if we were, at one point in time, star dust, then won't we all be star dust again at another point in time?"
"Library of an Old Ghost" by Shelly, username shellyzev:
Rachel knows that Jay is not the most trustworthy person but unable to resist his smug smiles, she agrees to help him on his adventure, if only to wipe that stupid smile off his face.
So, that wraps up this super long and happy and writerly post. I'd like to thank the Freshman Fifteens for this experience in advance, because I know it'll be awesome (literally awe-inspiring). I hope you all are excited to get into the Common Room, because I know I'm pumped to see how it looks when it's finished!
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Wow, I haven't done a Fiction Friday in a long while! And look - what a milestone. It's my tenth Fiction Friday here at Fairy Skeletons, and to celebrate, I'll be highlighting two extra-special short stories from Tor.com.
It's no secret that Tor is one of my favorite places to look for short stories online - they publish very high-quality stuff that manages to not take up too much time to read. (In fact, it's one of my greatest aspirations to be published by them someday.) It's refreshing and fun and a wonderful venture. So without further ado, here are two of my favorite speculative fiction stories on the web that I've found this week!

Gorgeous illustration for the story, done by Pascal Campion.
Ignore the stirrings of war. Let the carriage to a royal ball wait. There is a story to be told: of a starless night, a mother and her sick son, and a mortal who falls in love with the snow god, and will do anything to have her...
"Bridge of Snow" by Marie Rutkoski - It's basically a given that I would love this one. After all, it's a tie-in to Rutkoski's fantasy YA book The Winner's Curse, which I'm sure I've talked about on this blog a number of times. I've gushed about the setting and characters to anyone who will listen, and this short glimpse into Arin's (the male protagonist's) past is a delightful bite of a country long gone. 

Oh, and a short sampling for your enjoyment, which will undoubtedly lead to you reading the rest of the story if you haven't clicked the link already:
But how to tell her son the rest? The way the god silently followed the goatherd, so close that his shoulders grew frost? He drew for the snow god, whose frozen diamond tears fell at the sight of his images and rang against the rock. Every morning, he looked for her. He began to love the chattering of his teeth. When she appeared, the air sheered and sharpened. It became hard to breathe. Still, he longed for that painful purity.
Unfairly pretty illustration for the story, done by Karla Ortiz.
Claire’s lover has no tongue. A slave liberated from a heathen temple, Aya cannot tell the story of her stolen voice, or of her and Claire’s unfolding love. She cannot speak her pain, her joy, or her sorrow. And if she sees that which eludes the blind goddess of justice, she cannot bear witness.
"In the Sight of Akresa" by Ray Wood - This piece is so tragic and lush. I loved the danger sweeping beneath every sentence, the rich fantasy worldbuilding done in such a short space of time, and the passion of the characters all around. I say without exaggerating that I want to read a book of this. From the bottom of my heart, I need a book of this.

And a little, slippery, burning quote for you:
I think you caught the waver in my voice. Your eyes plunged into me, direct as daggers, and I had to let mine drop. My fingers lingered on the leather of your glove as I handed the bird over. I had seen enough, in that look—I had seen, in the way your eyes hesitated on my hair and then my lips, that you shared something of my desire.
Hopefully you all find as much to love in these pieces as I did. Happy Friday reading to you!
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This week's Fiction Friday is an example of Twitter fiction - innovative storytelling done through Twitter in 140-character segments.

This particular story, written by Andrea Corbin, follows a "spacewitch" named Em in a short, fantastical journey. The prose is sharp, succinct, and evocative - really a treat to read. It's quite surprising how effectively this medium works to convey the story, working with and around the boundaries of typical writing pieces.

I feel there's no need for the excerpt I typically include, as the whole thing (having been Storified) is embedded below:



Hopefully you enjoyed that little bit of your Friday, and maybe... maybe you'll be trying some Twitter fiction of your own soon? (I know I want to.)

- Christina
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A quick note of credit before we begin - this Fiction Friday pick was generously recommended by the lovely Kim Karalius, who is, incidentally, an amazing writer herself.

Tor.com, where this week's story was published, is one of the most highly regarded speculative short fiction markets out there. I've read and enjoyed some stories on the site in the past (some of which will probably pop up on future Fiction Fridays).

This gorgeous illustration for the story was done by Lars Leetaru.

Written by Maria Dahvana Headley, "The Tallest Doll in New York City" is a quirky, cute, magical story about what happens when the Chrysler Building, tired of admiring the Empire State from afar, decides to pay him a little visit on Valentine's Day. The narration is full of personality - I could almost say spunky - and it's richly flecked with details of the time period and setting. The writing style itself, despite being in first-person, is sort of cinematic, so it feels like you're reading the sweeping climax of a film. And the tiny threads of subplots are wonderfully woven in, making sure that everything is a backdrop for everything else, and every part of the story coexists with every other one, just like it does in a real city.

But really, don't take my word for it. Here's the requisite excerpt:
We joke about working in the body of the best broad in New York City, but no one on the waitstaff ever thinks that the Chrysler might have a will of her own. She’s beautiful, what with her multistory crown, her skin pale blue in daylight and rose-colored with city lights at night. Her gown’s printed with arcs and swoops, and beaded with tiny drops of General Electric.
"The Tallest Doll in New York City" is available to read here.

Despite the fact that I discovered it over three months late (it was a Valentine's Day story, after all), it's still a great story to read any time, and I do hope it makes your heart soar as much as it did for mine. Happy reading and happy Friday!

- Christina
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(I know it's Saturday, but please do bear with me. You won't be sorry, I promise.)

Flavorwire has just announced their 2014 Short Fiction Contest, and I'm planning on entering. In preparation, I read the 2013 winner, and dang, it's awesome.


"The Art and Science of Growing Back Your Arm", by Kim Winternheimer, is a powerful, haunting short story that puts a speculative twist on what you think might be reality. The premise is just strange enough to make you look twice at it, but not overbearing. The writing style is deceptively simple yet meaningful - sort of like the best contemporary novels. And the ending - I won't give anything away, but it hit me like a punch to the gut.

Here's an excerpt, because I might as well let the prose speak for itself:
I think about the world pockmarked with kids who have growth problems I won’t ever see. I think about the boy in our building at home, who cries and wails even though he’s easily two years older than me, and the girl on the news who cut up a bunch of animals in our neighborhood. Is that something they could grow into fixing? Or is it worse than that? I wonder if we all have a little bit of growing to do on the inside and why there aren’t any adults at camp doing any growing. I wonder what Mr. Bobby would say my mother needs to grow back, or if she’s fully whole, and why, to me, that seems so much more difficult to understand.
"The Art and Science of Growing Back Your Arm" is available to read here.

You're welcome for the link (if you haven't clicked it yet go go go), and happy not-really-Friday!


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Recently, I've been perusing a website called Merry Sisters of Fate. It's basically an archive of short stories written by young adult authors Brenna Yovanoff, Tessa Gratton, and Maggie Stiefvater written weekly since 2008. (Sadly, it's discontinued now.) While I've read and enjoyed Brenna Yovanoff's Paper Valentine and Maggie Stiefvater's The Scorpio Races and The Raven Boys, I haven't gotten a chance to read any of Tessa Gratton's books yet - though I want to!

Obviously, the story being featured today was read off of Merry Sisters of Fate, but oddly enough, it's a guest story contributed by Lauren DeStefano. (I've been eyeing her book Perfect Ruin for a while now, and this story just makes me want to read something book-length of hers even more.)

Also, Lauren DeStefano's tweets basically make my life.
Anyway.

The story being highlighted this Friday is titled "The Sometimes Mermaid". It's a magical, oh-so-slightly chilling piece that I love, especially for its atmosphere and perfect ending. The first paragraph is really the best lead-in, so here's that excerpt:
Atticus lived a hundred years, married twice, and loved only one girl. She became more a legend than a girl as the years went on. Her straw-blonde hair took on, in transit from one telling to the next, the pale white of a spirit. Her denim cutoffs and wicked grin became a billowing Victorian petticoat, her soggy daisy crown a shimmering tiara.
"The Sometimes Mermaid" is available to read here.

Here's to hoping you love it as much as I did, and that you all have a great Friday!


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Hello! Looks like I can actually have a Fiction Friday up on time-ish this week, with two stories for your reading enjoyment.


"Snakebit" by Amanda Downum is a haunting, gritty speculative short story, on the long side for quick fiction but very worthwhile all the same. This selection is another one from Strange Horizons - I find that I really dig what they publish. "Snakebit" specifically has a deeply rooted sense of wistfulness and place. Its atmosphere and descriptions are superb, and the hints are gorgeous, just subtle enough to not be confusing but not horribly obvious. Here's a small excerpt, which shows you what I mean:
The rain had stopped, but clouds slid low across the sky, snagging against the distant silhouettes of grain elevators. Sodium lamps glazed wet asphalt with marigold light. Lanie drew a deep breath, tasting rain on concrete and bitter exhaust. By the time they reached her truck she'd gathered enough courage to ask her question.
You can read "Snakebit" here.


Next up is Mari Ness's "Undone", from Apex Magazine. This is another professional speculative fiction market that I'm looking forward to exploring more of, and "Undone" was a great introduction. I'll give you a hint: it's a fairy tale adaptation, but that element of it crept up on me so quietly that I didn't realize it until the piece had ended. Again, the prose is delectable, but it isn't overbearing. An excerpt, ladies and gentlemen, because you really do want to read this piece:
In the summer, they attach feathers to his other arm, and dress the rest of him in delicate white silk dripping with pearls, to draw the eye away, they explain. His arms remain heavy by his side, even as the feathers shift beneath the summer winds.
"Undone" is available online here.

Hopefully this is a nice addition to your Friday!


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Hello, everyone - I realize it's Sunday (or perhaps even Monday for some of you?), but I'm here with a belated excuse for a Fiction Friday.


Strange Horizons is a prominent professional literary magazine in the SF/F community. It publishes some all-around great work, and while I was digging around in its archives, I found a shivery, delightful piece called "Longfin's Daughters", written by O. J. Cade.

The thing that usually gets me about short fiction is the prose - lately I've been finding that if a story's writing style is lackluster, I'll lose interest. But combined with an eerie setup, the toothsome array of words was too wonderful to ignore. If anything about eels, sisterhood, slippery narration, or a flow like a fairy tale sounds up your alley, "Longfin's Daughters" will appeal to you. And even it if doesn't, I'd suggest that you give it a try.

Here's an excerpt:
(Her memory was a sheet of blank paper, thin and crisp like apple skin and translucent enough to see shadows of writing beneath—equations and diagrams that wriggled and squirmed out of their neat lines and tidy arcs into chaos.)
"Longfin's Daughters" is available to read here.

Enjoy, and feel free to leave feedback in the comments!


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Well, I've missed so many Fiction Fridays that I might as well bundle up a whole slew of selections for you all in one post. My apologies - but please do enjoy the writings I've found today, in a variety of different genres!

First off is a bit of a throwback - a dark psychological story called "The Yellow Wallpaper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, first published in 1892. We read it in school for our gothic literature unit, and unlike most of the other gothic short stories given to us, this one manages to be disturbing without supernatural elements. (Though Edgar Allan Poe's "The Masque of the Red Death" was brilliant.) The narrator's slow descent into insanity is chilling (made more so by the fact that she thinks she is completely stable) and a valuable lesson in narration/character development in a short story. There certainly isn't much plot, but the progression of the narrator's phases renders it almost unnecessary. Here's an excerpt from a description of the wallpaper itself:
It is dull enough to confuse the eye in following, pronounced enough to constantly irritate and provoke study, and when you follow the lame uncertain curves for a little distance they suddenly commit suicide -- plunge off at outrageous angles, destroy themselves in unheard of contradictions.
"The Yellow Wallpaper" is available to read here.

Over at WhiskeyPaper, a new favorite literary magazine of mine, I enjoyed this set of three stories by Katie Cortese, consisting of "Camping Christopher Creek", "A Geologic Survey of Love", and "Mead or, Mulberry Wine?". Cortese has a keenly observant writing style that is believable at the same time, which I admired. She makes the most mundane places and people whisper with a crystalline beauty. My favorite sentence of all from these three is probably this one from "A Geologic Survey of Love":
He is a music major satisfying his science credit and cannot fathom what I love about the turgid origins of volcanoes and salt-glittering caves, the calamitous shifting of tectonic plates moving secretly, eternally, beneath our feet.
Lackington's is a speculative prose magazine that I recently have been browsing through. One story, "Mon pays c'est l'hiver" by Amal El-Mohtar, really stuck out to me.

The gorgeous accompanying illustration for the piece, done by Paula Arwen Friedlander.
The writing style is graceful and bone-deep, perfect for cold nights and warm afternoons. When I first read the piece I could practically taste the yearning in every sentence. I was speechless. It's a genuine, breathtaking treasure of a piece, as you can see from the excerpt below:
Home is the sharp sheet of a frozen sun against the eyes, the taste of cold air crackling into the throat, the solid stud of ice beneath boots, a musical weight in measured steps scraping the ground beneath them; home is the white whirl of a granulated sky spiralling against lips and cheeks, falling in small kisses against a wrist unguarded.
Wow.

I really hope these three pieces light up your Friday and inspire you to scour the world for more great stories! Happy reading!

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To make up for missing Fiction Friday last week, I'll do a special double edition for you all! Read on -


 Luna Station Quarterly is just another one of those speculative fiction magazines that is a joy to read. With sixteen issues so far of SF/F that are all absolutely fantastical (see what I did there?), LSQ is superb.

"Entry #92" by Tara Abrahams is one story that stands out to me - it's not speculative in the conventional sense. It's bittersweet, observant, and achingly human, despite its centering around a girl in love with a robot. An excerpt:
Still, he looked beautiful, arms gleaming silver in the fluorescent glow of the cafeteria lights. I thought I saw constellations in the scratches and rust on his metal plating, but I’m not sure. It might’ve been a trick of infinity.
Also, be sure to check out Tara's new serial novel, GLITCH. It just... Tara's style is so, so unique and that really shines through in this story.



And now - though I suppose this is sort of cheating - I'd like to spotlight a piece from the literary magazine that I run, The Teacup Trail. It's a short, sharp flash fiction called "The Dueling Orchestra", and it was written by E.R. Warren, a writer I truly admire. The first sentence for your reading enjoyment:
I am trapped in a timpani.
From what I've read of E.R.'s work, her style ranges from ethereal to snappy, and it can change moods in an instant. (Some people have versatility like that. *sigh*) E.R. is also on Figment, where she regularly updates The Princess and the Fox Demon - a novel loosely based on medieval Japan that I am completely and utterly in love with. (Chirikai and Asuka. DONE.)

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Inspired by LiAnn Yim's "Fiction Fridays" over at Little Fictions, I'll be sharing some choice bits of fiction with you all every Friday, to go with my weekly Music Mondays.

One of my favorite literary magazines to just browse through is The Golden Key (which LiAnn actually co-edits) - described as publishing "poetry and fiction that is open to the strange and marvelous possibilities of the world around us. Each issue explores one of the wonderful things – either literal or figurative – one might find upon opening the little iron chest. Each celebrates the curiosity and enchantment of the Grimms’ tale with work that is odd, surprising, and unafraid to venture down the unknown path." It's inspired by the Grimms' story of, well, the golden key, and the work that can be found here in these free-to-read issues is just exquisite.

illustration for "Bones", done by The Golden Key's talented resident artist Libby Burns.
Today's piece that I'd like to spotlight is "Bones" by Sylvia Linsteadt. Here's a small excerpt:
They sink fast into the earth, faster than iron and glass. As the ground presses them to pieces, they first break with jagged edges and sharp ends. To become smooth, this takes centuries, this is always resisted. And then they echo and echo, like the whale vertebra reverberating its once-song.
Linsteadt does a beautiful job of bringing magic to an archaeological dig, and her prose is truly rich in quality. There's history in the curve of her words, breath in her sentences. It's awe-inspiring, really. If you've got a spare five minutes or so, I highly recommend you read it. It's one of my very favorite parts of Issue One, but honestly, I've been through The Golden Key's archives so many times because it's a wondrous literary magazine. Happy reading and happy Friday!


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