Friday 21 October 2016

Working on our flash collections

I'm pleased to say that we have three authors signed up for flash collections.

Neil Campbell   has had work published previously by Salt and Knives Forks and Spoons and Salt Publishing. He works part-time as a creative writing teacher.  His collection is called Fog Lane and is to do with memory. 

Allison Symes  is published by Cafe Lit and Bridge House. She is self-employed and works part-time as a writer. She runs several blogs and blogs for Chandler's Ford Today. Her collection is called  From Dark to Light and Back Again. There's quite a bit of the supernatural   

Gill James, your editor is the third and we'll be publishing her January Stones.  They will remain on line until they're published.        

Here are a couple of excerpts from Allison and Neil:



I never believed in hell. Of all my mistakes in life, I never thought that would be my biggest. But it is.
There are no flames. There’s no smell of sulphur. I am surrounded by furry animals of differing sizes. So where is the problem?
Not only am I allergic to fur so I spend most of my time sneezing my head off, I spent my time on Earth shooting furry animals. Not with a camera either. Somehow I thought hunting animals only for fun was macho.
Guess who are holding the guns now?



Corned Beef went to his local in Burnage to ease himself out of the day with pints of bitter. For years he did this until at one stage he began to see scratches on his face in the bathroom mirror in the morning. Usually they were on his forehead but sometimes on his cheeks. He washed away the thin lines of dried blood and then got on the 197 to work as usual.
     The scratches began to develop into cuts and one morning he woke to see blood across the pillow. He felt for his forehead and his forefinger squished into a gash. He went to the bathroom mirror and took a plaster from the cabinet, placing it across his forehead. In work that day, below a staircase in a dark chamber within the neo-gothic splendour of Manchester Town Hall, he sat with the other porters at break time drinking coffee from his flask.
     ‘Hey, Corned Beef,’ said Bungalow, ‘what’s with the fucking plaster?’
     ‘Cut me head.’
     ‘How did you manage that?’
     ‘Don’t know.’

Three very different collections then but hopefully this gives you an idea of what's possible.    

You can find the full call to submissions here: