Fiction

Visitors Every writer goes down to the DoItYourself for story ideas. For some, it’s the obituaries DYI, for some it’s the Police Blotter DYI, but they come home with a notebook of nuts and bolts, a hammer, a trowel. For all writers, it’s observation that provides the lumber to build the story out. Here’s your observation: You are marching along a suburban street, looking for a house number. When you find it, the house is revealed as a Craftsman style bungalow, very out of cha

“ I am a ticket taker, many tickets have I torn” – The Low Anthem In a small wooden booth at the edge of the fairgrounds, I take the coins and dispense the tickets, regaling those shuffling hoards lined up before me with stories about the attractions they yearn to see, snippets of weather prediction, and praise for the little town and its beautiful women. I am their ticket taker. Come one come all, into the fairgrounds of spectacle, the tents of portent, the cages of an

Feel like the Hottest Couple in Town? Life's sweet, but will it last? You've scribbled down a list of your offsets, the rough that complements smooth, the passive that correlates with the pugnacious. You two resemble a folded inkblot. Delve deeper – we have just the guide. Choose the answer that most suits your personality – and watch your lovie's psyche unfold. My idea of nature is Watching Blue Planet II on TV Weeding the front flower beds Biking on the boardwalk Hiking up

Whose Story Is It? Let’s talk point of view [WHAT! AGAIN?]. Most fictional work, and most of my work, is in third person point of view. It’s so strong, so adaptable. You can have a separate narrative voice, one that knows more (or less) than the protagonist. You can play distance tricks to fit the book’s situation—move in closer to the main character or zoom out. You can treat the protagonist coldly, or in using informal indirect discourse, get right into her head with the wr

Home Sweet Home We're serializing Alphabetic Karma, a short story originally published by Hawkshaw Press. This is our final posting. When we left Kim last, Kim and Tony had both been shot, and Kim had retired from truck-boosting. *** When I turned twenty Uncle Zach and I had to tap into our hard-way gains. I hired a woman in the trailer park to watch over Zach while I worked at the garage. He was on his own in the evenings while I held down a job as a cashier at the market. I

Kim Goes Full Auto (Shop) Over the next few weeks, we're going to serialize Alphabetic Karma, a short story originally published by Hawkshaw Press. Sign in every Wednesday and Sunday to get the next paragraphs. When we left Kim last, she was busting her knuckles under cars, learning auto repair, and feeding Zack green mac'n cheese. *** The first summer was killer and not in a good way. On Sundays, Iʼd sit outside with Uncle Zach as he smoked and told me lies about his glamor

Serialized Short Story Alphabetic Karma Over the next few weeks, we're going to serialize Alphabetic Karma, a short story originally published by Hawkshaw Press. Sign in every Wednesday and Sunday to get the next paragraphs. When we left Kimmie last, she's conned her way into Uncle Zack's trailer to avoid sleeping on the street. *** Uncle Zach joggled my foot as I lay in the rocker-recliner scrolling my phone. “Hey, Iʼm gonna roll on down to the corner market. Want to come?”

Over the next few weeks, we're going to serialize Alphabetic Karma, a short story originally published by Hawkshaw Press. Sign in every Wednesday and Sunday to get the next paragraphs. When we left Kimmie last, she's been thrown out of her McMansion home again and has travelled by bus across town to Uncle Zacks's trailer, to seek refuge. *** Zach peered at my face, dropped his gaze and brought it back up. “Huh. So thatʼs how it is. You better come in.” He rolled backwards int

Over the next few weeks, we're going to serialize Alphabetic Karma, a short story originally published by Hawkshaw Press. Sign in every Wednesday and Sunday to get the next paragraphs. When we left Kimmie last, she'd just avoided being shopped for 4 days of smack. *** I hitched back across town. For a half hour, I begged my father to forgive and forget, there on the front stepʼs Italian stones. Gave it my best shot. “My best friend out here is an addict. Do you want me to end

Over the next few weeks, we're going to serialize Alphabetic Karma, a short story originally published by Hawkshaw Press. Sign in every Wednesday and Sunday to get the next paragraphs. When we left Kimmie last, she had been dumped in a downtown park by her father. ****** . . . She slumped on the other end of the bench, stared out over the park, and asked, “Are you in some kind of trouble?” “You could say that.” She was in her mid-twenties go

Over the Next Few Weeks, we're going to serialize Alphabetic Karma, a short story originally published by Hawkshaw Press. Sign in every Sunday to get the next paragraphs. ****** The second time my parents threw me out, I already knew the streets couldnʼt work for me. Iʼd learned enough the first time. I needed to stay with a relative somewhere. My moments of revelation in my first journey into the badlands still burned. My father went so far

Bereaved The last nephew has spoken his eulogy: the minister leads a prayer then closes the fat book shrouded in a black binding. Against...