Tag Archives: flash fiction offensive

"The Fireline" is up at Flash Fiction Offensive

“The Fireline” is a story I originally wrote four or five years ago.  I was reading a lot of Freud and Marcuse at the time and the piece ballooned to a linked 10,000 word long story, and went nowhere.  A couple months ago, I take a hack-axe to it and came up with the 1000 or words you’re going to go click to right now (right?)  Convenient clickable linky 

A preview:

“We’re going to do it,” Silas said. “With or without your say-so.”

Pa scrabbled down the roof and leaped off the eave, coming up spry as a jackrabbit. He strode within a pace of them. The boys stepped back.

“Is it true, Lord?” Pa said. “Did I raise up a pack of back-talking hellions?”

Convenient linky, repeated

“The Fireline” is up at Flash Fiction Offensive

“The Fireline” is a story I originally wrote four or five years ago.  I was reading a lot of Freud and Marcuse at the time and the piece ballooned to a linked 10,000 word long story, and went nowhere.  A couple months ago, I take a hack-axe to it and came up with the 1000 or words you’re going to go click to right now (right?)  Convenient clickable linky 

A preview:

“We’re going to do it,” Silas said. “With or without your say-so.”

Pa scrabbled down the roof and leaped off the eave, coming up spry as a jackrabbit. He strode within a pace of them. The boys stepped back.

“Is it true, Lord?” Pa said. “Did I raise up a pack of back-talking hellions?”

Convenient linky, repeated

An acceptance – The Fireline makes it into Flash Fiction Offensive

Here’s something that doesn’t happen every day – “The Fireline” got scooped up by Flash Fiction Offensive before it had a chance to get rejected anywhere.

When does this happen?  Well, in my (very limited experience) with non-rejection, it happens when you dispense with being pretty, and just tell a story.

I wrote this story a few years back when I was reading Freud and Marcuse, for reasons no longer clear to me, and I was struck by the primal story of the sons rising up to kill their father in the dust and blood of a primeval cave.  Pretty heavy material, which I didn’t much know how to handle at the time.  About 5 years and a lot of learnin’ later, though, I pared it to down the elemental aspects that made the vision powerful in the first place: in other words – a story.

You just have to keep slicing away the accretions of literary pretension, to find the story.  Funny how that works.