Or maybe Dear Hot, Broiling, Sun. That’s how I’m going to start my Unsent Letter. Because I’ve got a little something something to say about this heat situation–although my brain might be too melty to make any sense.
Let me just direct you to all the particulars for the Unsent Letters site. You can get paid for a blog post, and if your letter gets selected for the book, you can get paid even more. And you don’t have to be a professional to pen a letter. Anybody can write a letter, and just about everybody’s got something to say. Plus, I don’t think there’s any specific deadline here, but honestly, I can’t really think much at all these days.
Except to say that Mr. Sun’s going to get a piece of my mind. Or what’s left of it.
So, I was zipping around Twitterdom last night, checking out what write_jobs had to say, when I came across a lovely little horror flash mention for those of you itching to get your fingers on something short, dark, and scary. (That did not come out quite right, but I’m sure you know what I mean.)
Anyway, I started my flash search at Dark Moon Books. While there, I found that there’s a Dark Moon Digest (a paying market) where you can send your creepified (not sure that’s a word, but you know what I mean) submission.
Then, I clicked on the Contest page and honestly, you’ll just have to scroll down the page and see if there’s anything you’d like to write. I was a woman on a mission, though, so I kept looking till I found what I’d come for: Frightmares, the Flash Fiction Anthology.
Ah, success at last! They’ll accept previously published work, as long as you hold the copyright. So, yeah. Now I’m off on a Frightmares submission mission. Wish me creepified luck!
So we’re driving home from church, and it being Easter Sunday, the all-grown-up Junior Halls were sitting in the back seat.
Now, it’s not easy to get out of the parking lot on a regular Sunday, but for Easter, it’s a real test of patience and Christian love. We waited…and waited…and waited. Suddenly, Juniorette Hall piped up from the back seat.
“What are you doing, John?”
“Do you mind?” he asked. “I’m reading our (wonderful and scathingly brilliant) mom’s story in this book.”
He was holding my copy of Flashlight Memories. I brought it along a week or so ago on an out-of-town trip (and read the stories). Somehow, it had migrated to the back seat and out of my mind. All I can say is thank goodness for (inquisitive) Junior Halls sitting in the back seat.
is such a delightful book! The (incredibly industrious) folks over at Silver Boomer Books
gathered a ton of (charming) stories related to favorite reading memories, especially from those childhood days when the love of reading first takes root. I wrote about my favoritest little Golden Book, “A Pickle for a Nickel” by Lillian Moore. I sigh every time I think of that funny, little storybook.
So, that’s the end of that story (never let it be said that the all-grown-up Junior Halls are good for nothing).