Smoke Signals

The smoke still hasn't cleared from all the fine flash fictions in Issue 13 of SmokeLong Quarterly. I've been enjoying these pieces since the issue came out but thought I'd wait until the Sarcastic FringeHead finished her entertaining reviews of all the stories. Excellent stuff. Go read them if you haven't already.

Issue 13 was guest edited by Katrina Denza, so read the interview with her, too. (And be sure to check out her story "Here's My Hand, Take It" in Storyglossia Issue 13.)

Some thoughts from my reading . . .

Jennifer A. Howard's "Real Estate" has a great opening first sentence: "The house Ella grew up in had a door that went nowhere." How do you not keep reading? My favorite part of this story, though, is this:

Ella’s husband follows behind today, neither his face nor his voice reaching the camera. Except for a jump in the video when he rests his hand on her shoulder and Ella flinches, there will be no record that he was ever here.

I really didn't need to read the rest (although I did) because these two sentences took me everywhere I needed to go.

"Memory of Sky" by Jai Claire strikes me as more of a prose poem than story, but I liked the language, the repetitions, the alliteration, and the Beowulfian compound nouns. (Check out Jai's story "A Burial" in Storyglossia Issue 14.)

The big pile of nouns in Steve Cushman's "Bingham" was fun; this kind of writing gets me thinking about some of DeLillo's stuff and Tim O'Brien's "The Things They Carried."

Two things, okay three, if you count the cool series in the first sentence, excited me about Lisa K. Buchanan's "See Odi Naked:" verb-like adjectives such as chesty and tattery; and the narrator's meal—"eggplant panini and baby lettuces with pear-almond vinaigrette"—which instantly characterizes.

Reading David Erlewine's "The Table" made me wish non-stutterers could be in one of those moments just once. He captures the deterioration towards paralyzed speech quite well. These lines: "His older brother used to count his stutters at dinner and then before bed make him do three push ups for each one. Now, they only e-mail," on first read set off the heartbreak buzzer, but on later reads I wonder if they are too calculated.

"It was an accident. That's the first thing I need to say. I'm a fuckup, not a killer, but that doesn't change what happened that night." This strong opening from Jeff Landon's "Emily Avenue" really hooked me. The drugged behavior post-accident and the rationalizations seemed real. I'm troubled by the lack of remorse, but probably would have disliked it if it had been there. More great lines here: "You only think about the people you love or hate, and everyone else is just scenery. They're just people eating food in a mall or walking out of the movies."

In "Miracle," Chad Simpson puts a new spin on the chalk outline with the great image of teeth tearing at masking tape. The narrator wishing he could join the scene but not doing so is the story moment.

If I could have my flash only one way, I'd want it to be disturbing, so Joseph Young's "Randomization," even though I don't know what the hell is going on, is perfect.

Great work by all the writers—you're a tough act to follow. Kudos and thanks to the crew for another smokin' issue.