Earlier this month, I entered Apparition Literary Magazine’s November Flash Fiction Challenge, for which writer’s are challenged to create flash fiction based on a certain image, and I am delighted to announce that I won!
My story “Shattered Moon, Hungry Sea” went live today. It’s a speculative fairy tale about a mother, a daughter, the moon and the sea.
I really love this story, and I hope you enjoy it!
Many months ago, I wrote a story. Then I had friends—brilliant writer-type friends—poke at it and ask me questions I never would have thought to ask myself. The story almost doubled in length and, we hope, quality and it turned out I really rather liked it.
Apparently, I’m not the only one! I am delighted to announce that “The Great Green Forever” has been shortlisted as part of the HG Wells Short Story Competition.
I’m fairly new to entering competitions (I am currently awaiting the second round results for the New York City Midnight Flash Fiction Contest—wish me luck!) and this is the first piece that has made a shortlist.
I’m so glad it’s this story.
The overall results will be released at the awards ceremony in November. I’m excited.
In May, I wrote a couple of poems about the gut-punch anxiety I was feeling during lockdown. I wasn’t sure if there was anything I could do with them, I’d pretty much resigned them to a folder on my harddrive. Then I found Aloe.
Aloe is a collection of new writing from the UK and Ireland produced under lockdown and I’m so pleased one of my poems, “The Art of Doing Nothing”, has found a home there.
If you would like to give it a read, you can download a free copy or purchase the print edition (with all profit being donated in support of UK and Irish healthcare workers) on the Aloe website.
I am so happy to be writing this post. I have been holding onto this for a couple of weeks now and it’s been fizzing in my belly. If you follow me on twitter, you may have seen me getting a little bit excited about a recent acceptance.
I am so thrilled to announce that an eerie little piece of flash fiction has been published in issue 2 of perhappened mag!
It’s such a lovely magazine and I’m so pleased to have been accepted; this magazine is going to do great things and I can’t wait to pore over the rest of the issue.
So, without further rambling and before I make this update longer than the piece itself, allow me to introduce ‘Pit Stop’—a strange little story about a moment on the road.
This website has existed for a long time and taken many different forms. From art to blogging, back to art, back to blogging…
It has been about books and life and design and everything in between. But mostly it has been sat here. Well, it has been sat here for over a year anyway.
I recently decided that I need to take myself seriously and I need to take my writing seriously—so that’s what this is. Here you will now find my work, as and when it appears, as I navigate my way through the perilous seas of publishing.
First, in journals and magazines and then—we hope—books.
To anyone who is still here and chooses to remain here: thank you.
I’ve recently been noodling around on reddit, particularly the r/WritingPrompts community, writing silly little stories.
I decided I ought to gather them somewhere.
And so r/TheKeyhole was born, where you can find everything that I cannot otherwise publish. I’m quite fond of it. I might post my favourite things here as well. We shall see.
I never quite know how to end these things, so I shall end it with a quote that has been keeping me sane throughout my writing—and living—process since around 2013:
So it is written – but so, too, it is crossed out. You can write it over again. You can make notes in the margins. You can cut out the whole page. You can, and you must, edit and rewrite and reshape and pull out the wrong parts like bones and find just the thing and you can forever, forever, write more and more and more, thicker and longer and clearer. Living is a paragraph, constantly rewritten. It is Grown-Up Magic.
Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Soared Over Fairyland and Cut the Moon in Two