As part of the annual 24 hour event, micros are bursting from the dams, escaping their tethers, and cresting over in waves. My micro, “The Last Spider Lilies of Chester County” entered the river at 8:15 EST.
Amazing mini writing, hourly prompts, and other activities make it a summer fun-day for floating in all the best writerly words.
Which is super amazing and kind of difficult to believe. Out of 1,700 entries? I think I might have snuck in the side door for the party. But that’s OK, I’m eating canapes and pretending I’ve been here all along, with a quick eye for the exit, should I need it.
Funny enough, I was longlisted last summer too, for their flash competition. Still working on getting that one placed, but it seems to be closer to liftoff than before.
Anyway, I just mean that this is my favorite summer thing – to hang out with some other people’s awesome words for a little bit. Like we’re family or something and about to pile into a big station wagon with a handful of bathroom stops. And a cooler-full of ginger ale.
http://www.smokelong.com/the-smokelong-grand-micro-contest-long-list/
My drabble is up at Daily Science Fiction. Takes about three breaths to read. Plenty of time to get back to work on that knitted balaclava and maybe pull some weeds in the garden.
Thrilled to see this piece published with Meow Meow Pow Pow for their Family Crypt theme. I really like this one!
The mission of this publication is to pair writing with art, to share with all. So download the poster and plaster your walls. The paired art with the teeth and carrots was just perfect! Thanks to artist Cassandra Panek.
And as a bonus (?) you can hear me read “Crop Rotation” on the site too.
https://www.meowmeowpowpowlit.com/recent/crop-rotation-by-janna-miller
After the TV turned off, Eva was thoughtful and quiet, while the others chattered like birds. She slid open the glass door and stepped into bright sky, her eldest brother a shadow behind her.
“Evie?”
“How come I didn’t see him?” She wore the ache in her heart like a beacon. “Grandpa’s watching me from the moon, said he would always.”
Suddenly leaning against his side, she twisted a fist against tears.
“Ah, that’s because rocket scientists don’t know everything.”
“No?”
“It’s the wrong frequency, you see. Rocket fuel can’t go the speed of love.”
Eva smiled faintly again. “Lovespeed.”
Layla worried about owls in the pre-dawn, her son sleeping near a circled arm. His feathered hair reminding of flight and soaring love conversely chiseled open rusty chambers of her childhood heart. Inside were beetles, blood poisoning, and cracked mirrors. Of the meaning of owls hooting in threes, while she pulled him close.
53 Word Challenge. Theme: Superstition
There are several precise minutes in the day when things are possible, though not absolutely, For example, at 7:05 in the morning, dew can reflect your true love or cure a wart. Most people know that at noon, of course, you can get a sunburn in the shape of a dagger and at midnight you can get a crick in your neck looking for witches against the moon. People know this and take steps against it, even if it is improbable. Others are more vague and unknown. At 10:51 you can see steam rising from a hidden cave. At 3:50 you can hear the sound of bells from an old church long since gone. At 13:22 a rabbit can speak your true name. And at 2:59, just before the real witching hour begins, shadows can freeze and fall gently to earth. Sometimes they fall as leaves and flowers, but more often they fall as the wings of birds, to mimic the great raven flocks that black out the sky for just that minute, as they travel from the real to the unreal.
They usually melt the first day of Spring, at 9:03.
