Vignettes which blur the distinction between what is most definitely fiction and what is less convincingly false. . . .
Diggory Franklin met a beautiful woman today. Twice. The first time, she warned him of impending doom and then bestowed the most passionate kiss of his life. The second time, she had no memory of the first. And that’s really just the start of his problems . . . . . .
Daron thought life would get easier after he got away from his parents’ house in New Jersey, thanks to a scholarship to music school in New England. But life is tough when there isn’t enough money to actually live on, you’re underage, and you don’t know where to turn. And is it the best thing that ever happened to you, . . .
Simon Drake is an up-and-coming young FBI hotshot, an agent with a personal track record so outstanding that it borders on unbelievable. Not yet thirty, he’s already the leader of his own special ops team; a ragtag bunch of talented but nigh-uncontrollable lunatics, it’s true, but under Simon’s inspired leadership they’re a force to be reckoned with, a team with . . .
Short stories, flash, contemporary, mainstream fiction for the attention-challenged reader. . . .
Rowena has a mother: “This is my life, Mom. Not a Jane Austen novel. Not—” “Listen to me, Miss Independence. He’s a nice young man, but men expect things. Even nice ones, sometimes. He’s going to think that you’re inviting him to do . . . married people things.” Rowena tried to interrupt, but when she opened her mouth nothing came . . .
The cautionary tale of Buddy Best, Hollywood hack. . . .
The story of a man whose only meaningful contact with the world other than through smells, who is slowly working his way out of his mother’s basement out into the wide world of people and relationships. The experience of smell is the closest thing we have to intimate human contact without actually having it. A woman’s perfume. a whiff . . .
With money to burn and time to spend, Sol Mann embarks on a journey through Costa Rica that would change him in a fundamental way. Where does he get his money? And what is he running from? . . . We don’t really know. But that doesn’t matter when your days are filled with cheap weed, good rum, and great women. . . .
Daily blog from an amnesiac bartender in Pittsburgh. Posts about his customer, his views on life, and strange dreams that hint at a previous life. Arched story with an endgame. . . .
Infinite book project is a bit of a misnomer, but I like the idea of an infinite book, a story that moves through and across time, recording every possible choice and every possible path a character could take. While in a physical book, this type of story would be impossible to read (and likely just as difficult to write), a . . .
This is an ongoing, fictional adventure series based on the lives of a group of neighbors living on San Francisco’s Russian Hill, who get together once a month to talk about those other neighbors who, for some reason, happen not to be there. Each month, a different person hosts and prepares the meal, which must be made from organic seasonal . . .
“Chuck” is a serial novel—a psych-thriller—about a famous artist—a troubled man—who manages to get by . . . until his mother passes. Interestingly enough, his reaction is not what he would have expected. He’s actually not dealing with it so well . . . and neither are the people around him. Sanity versus truth—which is which? . . .
Jul 16, 2008: Caveat: Story in progress, updating regularly, review may be subject to radical change based on future installments.
Diggory Franklin’s first chapter drew me in, immediately piqued my interest, and left me chomping at the bit for more. I was willing to be dirty and underhanded to get more of it.
What follows is an offtimes amusing, tantalizing story which raises all sorts of questions.
May 28, 2010: (S)wine is good. The pieces are aptly called "short, lean cuts," and the writing is scary-effective—sudden stuff that really captures emotion. Every line reads with the urgency of sending time-sensitive freight. Pop, pop, pop. Cut, cut, cut. Most online fiction I see is bogged down with a kind of . . . conceit. Worlds with crazy names and rules and geography but no moments. If you get (S)wine, it’ll get you, too. I adore the following:
"You gotta know when you look back you’ve forged [more . . .]