The London Eye

Gay Degani’s flash, The London Eye, is the featured story today at Every Day Fiction and it is a perfect example of flash fiction.

It is a horror story of the best type; no unkillable murderers, no boogeymen, no zombies or vampires.  Just a man being driven insane by the monstrous guilt he carries within his mind.

Check it out here.  It’s special.

Another dance

I added 580 words to Grampy’s Dance this morning and figured out the flow, I think.  It’s going to be a back and forth between the thirty-seventh celebration of Landing Day and Landing Day itself.  It could go as high as 8,000 words.

Here’s the sneak I promised yesterday:

“What’s the baby doctor doing up here?” Nathan Ackerman asked, just before the lander released from the orbital ship.

The baby doctor was Elizabeth McCartney. She was strapped into the extra couch at the environmental console. She wasn’t supposed to be in the control cabin, wasn’t one of the command staff, but she had talked Strangways into it. The damned Brit always had been a soft touch for redheads.

“Wants to watch us work together,” Strangways said; he grinned. “Wants to witness the command-team gestalt.”

“Bullshit,” Nathan said. “She wants to see the surface before the others do.” Strangways shrugged.

“What will it hurt, Nat?” he said.

Nathan didn’t argue; he knew how it was when Strangways made up his mind. So there she sat. Didn’t make a sound, didn’t cause any sort of stir at all, just listened to the practiced chatter of the five members of the command team.

Becker was at navigation, Jacobi worked the systems board, Perez handled the waldoes that controlled the directed drop of the pods, and Nathan and Strangways were in the pilots’ chairs.

The lander followed the equipment pods down to the surface along the drop line, as smooth and as fast as a bead of water along a thread of spider’s silk.  Everything was green light and nominal.

“All seven pods down and chutes disengaged,” Perez said, after a time.

“Touchdown in eleven minutes,” Becker said.

Strangways grinned and offered up his hand to Nathan for a high five and Nathan grinned back as he slapped Strangway’s palm.

“Ah, fuck,” Jacobi said.

Grampy’s Dance

I wrote a thousand words this morning, the start of a new short, Grampy’s Dance.

It’s something new for me. Old fashioned science fiction, with a starship filled with colonists bound for another world. I’m pleased with what I got down so far.

Most often, I start with a title or an image or an idea and I write from there, shaping and reworking as I move forward and the story is revealed to me. On this one, I tried plotting an outline.

For writers who are big outline freaks, what I have probably looks like scribble on a greasy napkin, but it is so much more than I usually start with.

I have a beginning point, with fleshed-out characters and a chain of events along the plotline. Most importantly, I have an end.

Jack Leggett, an old copy desk editor that was a mentor to me when I was working as a newspaper reporter, used to say, “If you got a start and a finish, you got a story. All the rest is detail.”

We’ll see. When I get a bit more written, I’ll give you a sneak.

At everyday weirdness

My flash fiction, Little Guys, is the featured story at Everyday Weirdness today.

It’s my take on the bar conversation story; I think we all like to read this kind of tale because it satisfied some inner need to eavesdrop. Or maybe it’s just me.

I mentioned before that I was going to call this story Ernie Volkman Doesn’t Drink Here Anymore. I’m convinced now that that would have been the right call. As a title, Little Guys just sort of sits there.

Hindsight always offers the best view, doesn’t it?

Anyway, if you like, pop over and read it here. And while you’re there, have a beer for Volkman.

Another dead soldier

Orbital Decay is headed for the Old Story’s Home.

It made the rounds in 2008 without success and the rejections I received had a darker tone.

Orbital Decay is a story about an early suicide, told from the perspective of a middle-aged man. Not all it’s rejections offered comments, but those that did were unanimous.

“The writing is solid but what a bummer ending.”

Even so, I believe it’s a good story; so I’m posting it here.  Give it a read, if you like, and let me know what you think.