Category: News

Welcome to the fourth in our series of interviews with this year's National Flash Fiction Day Anthology editors and Microfiction Competition judges! Submissions for the Anthology and Microfiction Competition are open from 1 December 2021 to 15 February 2022.

This week, Diane Simmons chats with Chris Drew, one of this year's editors for the 2022 NFFD Anthology, about writing projects, creative influences, and favourite flash writers, as well as his thoughts on this year's NFFD Anthology theme....

Diane: Firstly, thank you for agreeing to be a co-editor of this year’s anthology. The theme is FREEDOM. Do you have any tips on how to interpret the theme or any advice on how to approach themes in general?

Chris: Thank you for inviting me! It’s great to be part of the NFFD team. Freedom is a fitting theme for 2022, and I’m excited to see what people come up with, but I’m hesitant to delve too deeply into an interpretation. Instead, all I’ll say is that in approaching any theme I wouldn’t worry too much about trying to be different. You hear it a lot in the literary community that you need to stand out from the crowd (the dreaded slush pile), but my advice is to forget the crowd and tell your own story. What does freedom mean to you? I’m looking forward to finding out.

Diane: Are there any flash fictions that you remember made you laugh out loud? If not, are there any that have made you cry?

Chris: There are flashes that come along once in a while that for some unfathomable reason stay with you. Something in them – a phrase or an image or perhaps the rhythm – can sink onto your subconscious and surface over and over again. Anybody who reads Sharon Telfer’s My Father Comforts Me in the Form of Birds, or Helen Rye’s One in Twenty-Three, can’t help but be affected by them. Why? Because there’s so much emotion in there presented in a way that isn’t overly sentimental. It’s a delicate balance, but if done right, if the words are chosen carefully, plainly, the reader is able to make an emotional connection to the story independently, from their own experiences, and make it their own. As for humour, there isn’t enough of it in flash fiction, probably because it’s incredibly difficult to get right. Tim Craig is a master at this, so too is Elisabeth Ingram Wallace. It’s a natural-born style. You either have it or you don’t.

Diane: Do you have any writing projects on the go?

Chris: Too many. I have a novella-in-flash that’s currently out on submission, and the beginnings of a flash fiction collection simmering in the background. Recently, I’ve been working on the second draft of a Middle Grade novel that I started writing for my kids a few years ago, so I’d best finish it before they’re too old to care. I also have the first draft of a psychological thriller that I want to rewrite at some point, and a few other novel ideas floating around that have hit the 10 or 20k mark. I tend to work on a few projects simultaneously rather than having a single focus. Whether that’s a good or bad thing I’m not sure. The key, I think, is to just keep writing, day after day after day.

Diane: You were a founding editor of the historical online journal FlashBack Fiction. You obviously enjoy reading historical fiction and I wondered if you write much of it yourself? If so, do you have a favourite time period in history?

Chris: I was in the right place at the right time when the concept of FlashBack Fiction was discussed in a random Twitter thread a few years ago. When Ingrid took the reins and I had the opportunity to work with Emily Devane and Damhnait Monaghan, Judi Walsh and Sharon Telfer (and, briefly, K.B. Carle) I leapt onto the bandwagon. The year I spent as editor there was invaluable to me as a writer, not only in approaching flash fiction from a different angle (as a critical reader), but also to watch the other editors work, their flow of discussion, their insights, and, occasionally, fisticuffs*. I don’t have a favourite period per se; I’m more interested in character. Whether it’s a soldier hunting buffalo and facing his PTSD in Gutshot, fruit pickers helping the war effort in Plum Jam, or a slave trapped in the surreal space between love and mercy in Tyn. I remember each of these stories, not for the historical setting, but for the characters. One of the most remarkable feats of flash fiction is that you can create a living, breathing human being in only a few hundred words.
*No editors were harmed in the discussion of these stories.

Diane: Is there a flash fiction writer who has influenced your own writing? Or one who you particularly admire?

Chris: Goodness, yes. I admire Gaynor Jones for her determination and talent, Stephanie Carty for her courage and compassion, Elisabeth Ingram Wallace for her originality, Eileen Merriman for her general super-human-ness, Victoria Richards for her honesty and diversity of form, and Christina Dalcher and Charmaine Wilkerson for showing us all that dreams do come true. There are others. In terms of influencing, Peter Jordan has that clean, stripped prose that I strive to emulate. He’s helped me a lot in my writing over the years, directly and indirectly, and I always return to his stories for inspiration.

 

---

Christopher M Drew is a writer from Yorkshire. He started submitting flash fiction in 2015 and since then has been published widely in online journals and print anthologies. He has won second prize in the Bath Flash Fiction (2016), Reflex Fiction (2018), and Forge Literary Flash Fiction (2019) competitions. His SmokeLong Quarterly story Alligator was selected for Best British and Irish Flash Fiction 2019, and When we were young, originally published in trampset, was selected for Best Microfiction 2021. He has been nominated for Best Small Fictions and Best of the Net, and was one of the founding editors of the historical flash fiction journal FlashBack Fiction. You can connect with Chris on Twitter (@cmdrew81), or through his website (https://chrisdrew81.wixsite.com/cmdrew81).

Welcome to the next in our series of interviews with this year's National Flash Fiction Day Anthology editors and Microfiction Competition judges! Submissions for the Anthology and Microfiction Competition are open from 1 December 2021 to 15 February 2022.

This week, Diane Simmons chats with Tracy Fells, one of this year's judges for the 2022 NFFD Microfiction Competition, about cake, humour, and attempting microfiction for the first time....

 

Diane: Your novella-in-flash Hairy on the Inside was published by Ad Hoc Fiction a few months ago and reviewers have commentated on the humour in the novella. Do you enjoy writing funny flash?

Tracy: Dramatic pause … Yes.

I guess you need more? Yes, I love writing, or attempting to write, funny flash (and short stories too). I personally feel there’s a need for more humour in fiction, and particularly flash which can focus on the gloomy/darker side of life. Balancing comedy with pathos that make readers both laugh and think, or cry, is a tough gig to pull off well. Laughing out loud is like chocolate for your soul.

Diane: Have you always written fiction? If not, can you remember what inspired you to start?

Tracy: As soon as I could write I started writing fiction, so that would be around age five. My stories and poems were often read out by the teacher to the class and when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up I said “a writer” … There was a brief interlude when I changed that to “showjumper” during my pony mad phase but as my family were working class with no spare cash for a pony I soon returned to writing as my dream career.

Diane: You’re a very successful flash and short story writer with numerous prizes to your name and you’ve been Highly Commended twice in the National Flash Fiction Day Micro Fiction Competition. Do you have any tips for people who would like to attempt a micro, perhaps for the first time?

Tracy:

1. If you already write flash fiction then take an existing story and edit/cut it right down. Try cutting sentences from the beginning and end, see what it does to the story. It’s liberating to see how much you can take out and still have a working story, which can create a powerful impact.
2. Write straight into Word (or programme of choice) with one eye on the word total and stop when you hit 100 words. Then see what you’ve got and what could go (probably a lot!). I always write short fiction with one eye on the word counter so I can estimate when I should be hitting the middle or climax of a story.
3. Experiment. Have fun. Go wild and off-piste. Aim to surprise yourself with what you can write in 100 words. Do that then you will surprise the reader too! Honestly, if you only have to write 100 words what have you got to lose?

Diane: I know that cake plays a huge part in your writing process. Do you have a favourite cake?

Tracy: How long have we got? I love all cake but my absolute favourite is caramel sponge with caramel butter cream, plastered with butterscotch icing and teardrops of toffee. Salivating yet?

Diane: If you could choose three writers to have round for dinner (or cake), who would they be?

Tracy: Jane Austen for afternoon tea and cake, just the two of us because she’s dead and could be a little embarrassed to dine with others. I’m convinced she had a wicked sense of humour and would be a joy to chat with over cake.

I’d love to invite round Kate Atkinson (Jackson Brodie series, Life After Life, and a wonderful short story writer) and Emily St John Mandel (Station Eleven, The Glass Hotel). There would be copious amounts of cocktails, wine and bubbly, mainly for me as I’d be too tongue-tied to attempt conversation. With their character rich novels and complex storytelling the dinner would be more of a thank you, as their writing sets a standard I can only aspire to one day achieving.

 

---

Tracy Fells was the 2017 Regional Winner (Europe and Canada) for the Commonwealth Short Story Prize. Her short fiction has been widely published in print journals and online, including: Granta, Brittle Star, Reflex Fiction, Popshot Quarterly, Firewords, Funny Pearls and the Bath Flash Fiction Award anthologies (2019 & 2020). She has been shortlisted for the Bridport and Fish Flash Fiction prizes, placed in the Reflex Fiction competition and Highly Commended in the NFFD Microfiction competition (2016 & 2020). In 2016 she was awarded an MA with Distinction in Creative Writing from Chichester University. She is a regular reader for several large short story competitions and leads writing workshops on short fiction. Tracy also writes novels and was a finalist in the 2018 Richard & Judy ‘Search for a Bestseller’ competition. Her debut novella-in-flash Hairy on the Inside was published by Ad Hoc Fiction in 2021. She tweets as @theliterarypig.

Welcome to the second in our series of interviews with this year's National Flash Fiction Day Anthology editors and Microfiction Competition judges! Submissions for the Anthology and Microfiction Competition are open from 1 December 2021 to 15 February 2022.

This week, Diane Simmons chats with Christopher Allen, one of this year's judges for the 2022 NFFD Microfiction Competition, about movement, editing and crafting a collection of flash....

 

Diane: You have at times described yourself as a nomad. Do you think moving from place to place affects what you write about or how you write it?

Christopher: Indirectly maybe? Characters and situations I’ve encountered around the world do show up in my writing, but only rarely. The tree in ‘Fred’s Massive Sorrow’ was inspired by a tree growing on the top of a building in the middle of Vienna. A man working on the Mekong in Cambodia inspired ‘Kerosene Man’. A river in South Tyrol is the river in ‘Providence’. I just happened to be in Siena during The Feast of Santa Caterina, the memory of which forms the setting for my story ‘Santa Caterina’—but these are exceptions in my writing. I’m usually very much an ‘in-the-mind’ writer.

Always being on the road, though, does affect the way I write. I write on trains and planes or sometimes not at all. I scribble lines on scraps of paper and stuff them in my backpack. I think about stories for months before I write anything. I don’t have a desk or even a bookshelf, but I have memories of both. Writing for me is always a struggle to shut out the commotion around me.

Diane: In your role of editor at SmokeLong Quarterly, you must read a huge number of flash fictions. Is there any advice you can give entrants to your competitions on writing a successful flash or anything you would particularly like to see?

Christopher: I think around 5000 submissions a year since 2008? As a team, the SmokeLong editors read around 3000 submissions each quarter. Honest work that shines through every narrative layer, from word to concept, has a good chance of doing well in a SmokeLong competition. Something innovative with heart will stand out.

Diane: Can you recall a flash fiction that made you cry?

Christopher: When I received my copy of SmokeLong Quarterly: The Best of the First 10 Years anthology in 2014, I took it to the Greek restaurant around the corner from my house in Munich. I remember sitting there alone and choking back tears at more than a dozen of the stories. I don’t remember the specific stories that made me cry, but there were lots. ‘A Soldier’ by Siamak Vossoughi made me cry the first time I read it. ‘Rascal’ by Brendan Stephens makes me cry every time I read it in my Elements of Flash workshop. And lots of my own stories. I get so choked up when reading ‘What if All the Oceans’ that I’ve decided not to try to read it in public again, especially if I’ve had wine.

Diane: Your collection Other Household Toxins was published in 2018. Did you enjoy the process of putting together a collection? Do you have any tips that you’d like to share?

Christopher: Oh yes. The process was satisfying. I love the jigsaw nature of creating a collection. Other Household Toxins went through several permutations. At first the publisher wanted it to be a craft book, but I decided it was a couple of decades and a few collections too soon to make a craft book using exclusively my own work.

I’m not great with advice. Everyone has their own take on what works and what doesn’t. Don’t worry too much. Include only the stories you love. I’ve written and published quite a few stories I don’t love, and they will never be in a collection. A couple of years ago I made a commitment to myself to stop sending out stories just to send out stories.

Diane: Writing and editing must keep you very busy. What do you like to do in your spare time?

Christopher: Editing is a full-time job. SmokeLong is a full-time job. We have a team of talented editors who work so hard. I am continually impressed and humbled by how much work they put into the feedback they give.

Spare time. Oh god. I try to do as much sport as I can. I hike and cross-country ski. In months that are not cold, I try to cycle as much as possible. My dream holiday is just getting on my bike and cycling from village to village until I’m far far away.

 

---

Christopher Allen is the author of the flash fiction collection Other Household Toxins and the editor-in-chief of SmokeLong Quarterly. His work has appeared in Indiana Review, Split Lip, Booth, The Best Small Fictions and many other fine places. An instructor for more than 30 years, he teaches the flash narrative in workshops around the world, mostly online these days. He is a nomad.

Welcome to the first in our series of interviews with this year's National Flash Fiction Day Anthology editors and Microfiction Competition judges! Submissions for the Anthology and Microfiction Competition are open from 1 December 2021 to 15 February 2022.

This week, Diane Simmons chats with Karen Jones, one of this year's editors for the 2022 NFFD Anthology, about reading in public, humour, her novella-in-flash, as well as what she is (and isn't) looking for when reading anthology submissions....

 

Diane: Firstly, thank you for agreeing to be a co-editor of this year’s anthology. The theme is FREEDOM. Is there anything you would like to particularly see in submissions? Or not see?

Karen: Thank you for the invite – I’m delighted to be part of NFFD. I’d love to see some wild interpretations of the theme – things I hadn’t thought of, things that make me sit up and take notice. I always say when I’m judging or acting as submissions editor that I want you to surprise me, and it’s no different here. Themes can be constricting but I hope this one can be interpreted widely enough to allow people do something different. Or, you know, if you’re telling an old story, at least tell it in a new way.

I don’t particularly want to see a lot of pandemic stories, purely because I’ve seen so many already, and I’m also not a big fan of twist endings. Other subjects it’s probably best to avoid, again, because we see them so often, are dementia/Alzheimer’s, cancer, death of a child. I’m not saying don’t write about any of these things, just be aware that you may be up against lots of others writing on the same themes, and that immediately reduces your chances of being accepted.

Diane: I always enjoy hearing you perform your stories. Do you have any advice for writers who are perhaps daunted by the prospect of reading out a flash for the first time?

Karen: There’s a standing joke amongst people who first heard me try to perform that I sent earthquake tremors through Partick in Glasgow. I trembled so much that the paper I read from shook, my legs wobbled, my voice quivered. The next time I was due to read I contacted a friend who was a seasoned performer – she even read one of her poems at the opening of the Scottish Parliament – and she told me to read something already published and to say to myself, ‘This is good. It’s objectively good. It’s not something only your pals or family liked – it’s published, it’s worthy. And if the audience don’t get that, sod them.’ While the last part made me laugh, it turned out be excellent advice. Now I absolutely love performing, love the applause, love the validation. I’ve gone from trembling wreck to needing someone to wrestle the microphone out of my hand so someone else can get a turn. Believe in yourself and your words is the takeaway from this. At a more basic level, practise, practise, practise. And read much more slowly than feels natural. And remember – everyone listening/watching wants you to do well. Everyone in that audience is on your side. They want you to succeed, and they will help you do that by cheering for you at the end. And breathe. Remember to breathe.

Diane: Your novella-in-flash When it’s Not Called Making Love was published by Ad Hoc Fiction in 2020. I have head you mention that it draws very much from your own life. Is this something you do much of in the rest of your writing?

Karen: A lot of my stories and flashes and short stories, do, to some extent, draw on my life and experiences. When you write things that have happened to you or people you know, there’s an authenticity to the voice and character that helps the reader connect emotionally to the story. The best stories and characters draw the reader in, make them believe, make them feel. So, yes, I do draw very much from my own life and my own country.

Diane: You use a lot of humour in your flash fictions. Humour can be difficult to pull off. Do you have any tips?

Karen: Funny is hard. It’s probably one of the most difficult genres because, more than any other, it is so subjective. Think of how often you and a friend have disagreed over what is a funny film or sitcom or book. Restraint is probably the keyword where it comes to writing comedy. It can be so tempting to rush in, trying too hard, filling stories with endless funny situations, constant one-liners, all characters having hilarious names, puns by the pound… and that’s where it falls flat. Trying too hard is the worst thing you can do with humour. A gentle touch is, for me, better. Humour tucked into a dark story, or all out humour but with subtlety. Not easy, but so worthwhile when it’s done well. I’ve heard people say that if you laugh at one of your own jokes, you should cut it. I disagree. If you make yourself laugh, cherish it, nourish it – that’s where the gold lies.

Diane: Do you need silence or an empty house to write or would you rather be in a crowded café or a room full of people?

Karen: I don’t think I’d enjoy writing in a room full of people or busy café, though I’ve never really tried. However, I used to get the bus into Glasgow and then walk two miles down to Kelvingrove Art Galleries and sit in in the gallery that exhibits the Scottish Colourists, put classical music on my iPod and write for a couple of hours. That was probably my most productive writing period. On the bus and on the walk, I’d listen to passing conversations and make mental notes of things I could use. At the galleries, I’d people watch, always finding new characters. There was so much material right there. In the past few years, that hasn’t been possible, but I do still love to block the world out by plugging into some Mozart and just writing rambling nonsense until something starts to feel like it might be a story. I have a bit more time now, so may well start my bus journeys and walks to the galleries again. If you see me on the bus, whisper so I don’t steal your words.

*I know very little about art or classical music – I think that may have helped, because I wasn’t distracted by it, I just enjoyed being immersed in it. *

 

---

Karen Jones is a flash and short story writer from Glasgow, Scotland. Her flashes have been nominated for Best of the Net, Best Micro Fiction and The Pushcart Prize, and her story Small Mercies was included in Best Small Fictions 2019 and BIFFY50 2019. In 2021 she won first prize in the Cambridge Flash Fiction Prize, Flash 500, Reflex Fiction and Retreat West Monthly Micro and was shortlisted for To Hull and Back, Bath Flash Fiction, Bath Short Story Award and longlisted for Fractured Lit Flash Fiction Prize. Her work has been published in numerous anthologies and magazines. Her novella-in-flash, When It’s Not Called Making Love is published by Ad Hoc Fiction. She is Special Features Editor at New Flash Fiction Review.