For a $100 donation, Brilliant Flash Fiction is offering a rare 5-session online flash fiction workshop with Assistant Editor Ed Higgins, limited to 20 students. Don’t miss this opportunity to improve your flash writing with a master teacher, open to international students at all levels.
When: January 23, 2021; January 30; February 6; February 13; February 20 at noon Pacific Standard Time. Use this link to convert to your time zone: https://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/converter.html?iso=20201220T130000&p1=202
It’s done! We raised $1,575 to finance our 2021 print anthology, thanks to the 39 heroic backers of our month-long Kickstarter project. THANK YOU ALL. Watch this website for further anthology developments. (If you subscribe to Brilliant Flash Fiction, you will receive automatic email updates.)
Brilliant Flash Fiction will celebrate a happy Christmas this year, and we wish the same to our generous supporters.
On-the-Spot Writing Contest Winner
Thanks also go out to the brave participants of our virtual on-the-spot writing challenge. These writers were given one hour in which to write a story based on the prompt “Race,” created by First Reader Kari Redmond, who hosted a Zoom session attended by an international audience.
We received 30 entries at the end of an hour, and the winner is Hannah Whiteoak. Her story, After the Race, will appear in our January 31 issue and she will be paid the standard $20 fee for publication. Congratulations, Hannah!
Continue reading “KICKSTARTER SUCCESS”
Brilliant Flash Fiction needs a KICKSTART to fund our second print anthology.
When the world stopped in early 2020, writing and the arts kept going. We kept accepting submissions, we kept encouraging writers, and we hosted contests to continue bringing in new writers, new voices and new thoughts. We want writing to thrive, and we want to showcase flash fiction at its best.
To do that, we need your help.
Visit Kickstarter to pledge even a small amount of money—and earn rewards including stickers, pens, editors’ flash fiction tips, T-shirts, and reviews of your own work.
We have until December 11, 2020, 10 AM MST, to reach our goal of $1,000. All money will go towards funding the printing process for an anthology in 2021 featuring original work solicited from writers around the world.
Continue reading “KICKSTART OUR 2021 ANTHOLOGY”
Write a Story in One Hour
Want a chance to have your original flash fiction published in our January 2021 issue? Invest an hour writing original flash fiction (200-1,000 words) based on a prompt given via Zoom.
Participate from anywhere in the world.
Eventbrite Registration Required. Go to: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/on-the-spot-writing-contest-tickets-121262313845.
This is a fundraising event. No entry fee is required, but a $10 donation to Brilliant Flash Fiction would be appreciated. Donations may be made on our website by clicking the Donate button.
Word limit: 200-1000 words, excluding title
Zoom call: 11:30 AM (Mountain Standard Time), Saturday, November 7
IAN IN GLASGOW
By Madalyn Aslan
We’re all in the little guy’s car on Belswain’s Lane when Ian tells me his dad is in Broadmoor, prison for the criminally insane. I tell him I was born a bastard and we are poor. Ian counters, “But you’re rich in looks.” And I am like, man!
So we fall in love. He’s thirteen like me and looks like an angel and is going to be a playwright when he grows up. I love his hands. In the pub he talks about books with my mother. We discuss, seriously, names to give our future children. His mother Mae is a joyful drunk, fat and sexy in a tight flower dress, always coughing and laughing. She and my mother light up cigarettes with great animal sighs. My mother says she is from Scotland. So Ian is, too. After the little guy breaks it off with Mae, that’s where she and Ian disappear back to. Continue reading “ISSUE 27: SEPTEMBER 2020”
Portrait of a Young Woman During Quarantine
By Darcy Casey
Ten at night and the woman’s stomach rumbles; sleep is impossible when her insides have so much to say. She turns under her blankets, a crocodile rolling in a kill’s final moments, but nothing dies except her resolve. She peels the ruined blankets from her body, careful not to wake her husband. From her guts rises a more insistent growl. The stomach, itself a cavernous brain, knows where she is going and is glad. She walks and, reflecting on the day, is pleased to realize she has not eaten a full meal. But wait: can this be true? She considers. It is true. Continue reading “ISSUE 26: JUNE 2020”
The Librarians’ Choice contest was held February 24-May 30, 2020, and evoked a bit of sadness that we can no longer wander the aisles of public libraries.
Contest Judges Anne Macdonald (based in the Poudre River Library District, Fort Collins, Colorado) and Molly Thompson (Front Range Community College Librarian, Larimer Campus, Fort Collins) chose a “Lost in the Library” prompt, and 192 international writers submitted a wide range of creative entries.
Brilliant Flash Fiction extends many thanks to the writers who participated, and a giant thank-you to the judges who volunteered their time to select three prizewinners. Continue reading “LIBRARIANS’ CHOICE – WRITING CONTEST RESULTS”
By Cody Pease
Michel waters the plants in rotations. He starts with the tillandsias hanging in the copper-wire cages, then the oreganos and vanilla orchids near the south-facing window, then the begonia on the dining room table. The succulents need to be split, and the philodendrons need more sunlight. His hands are too weak to lift the watering pot; instead, he uses a wine glass like I showed him. It’s a small task to strengthen his muscles. “How are you doing?” His movements are slight and slow, but he smiles. “Well,” he says. I’m afraid to press him further. I leave him to water, then I peel the sweet potatoes for dinner. Continue reading “ISSUE 25: MARCH 2020”
By David Galef
Maggie and I lived in a prim white house at the intersection of Maple Road and Main Street, and when she left to teach every morning, I’d stay home and stare out the front window because I lost my job at the bank. It’s a busy crossing, particularly when children are walking to and from Fielding Elementary School, where Maggie once taught fifth grade. The crosswalk is marked by a plastic stop sign in the middle of the road, with a capitalized warning for cars to stop for pedestrians. Yet drivers zoom by, narrowly missing people. I’d bang on the windowpane occasionally, to no effect. I don’t like that kind of response, as Maggie well knew. After enough mornings, I left the house and crossed the street, taking my time. I crossed back again. I waved my arms, getting in the motorists’ faces, forcing them to stop. Continue reading “ISSUE 24: JANUARY 2020”