§ Rebekah says: You did it! You battled the fire & ice dragons on Sol 1 and survived! We’re so grateful to the hordes of you who joined Friday’s competition, and who came back over the weekend to support each other by commenting. As writers, whether we’re
cobwebby seasoned or brand new, there’s so much we can learn from each other. Thank you! Be sure to drop by this Wednesday for our first Flash! Past feature, where we’ll update you on what’s going on with a favorite (or in this case, favourite) Flash! Friday writer.
§ Foy says: Well, that was spectacular! Landing in any arena can stiffen the spines but especially one dominated by other battle-scaled beasts. My admiration and affection to you all. The heart of Fire&Ice beats most boldly when we reach out, when we speak up, when we serve, and you all have done that here. We are grateful for each of you.
Quick note on judging: Six pairs of judges across multiple nationalities and genres are taking turns reading your submissions (meet the judges here). As soon as each contest round closes, your stories are first stripped of all personal info before being sent on for judging. This represents our effort to maximize every story’s chances, whether it’s the first or hundredth story you’ve written. ♥
SOL 1’S JUDGES SAY:
Craig Anderson: 2020 finally redeems itself! When I got the email saying that Flash! Friday was back on I whooped and cheered like a little kid. During the hiatus I spoke of FF regularly to anyone that would listen, harking back to the ‘good old days’ when a bunch of awesome writerly folks would have a virtual shin-dig every week. It was so very lovely to see both familiar faces and sparkly new people joining in the fun.
And what fun it has been! Judging with Sinéad was an absolute joy, and I learned a whole lot along the way. We had some really great back and forth where she pointed out the subtleties that made your stories really shine. There were several instances where Sinéad helped me to better appreciate a story at a whole other level, picking up on those words that seemed so innocent at first pass, but so very meaningful upon closer inspection. That is one of the things that I always love about flash fiction, every word has to pull its weight. A 150 word story, that at first appears to be a fun puddle to splash around in, can be as deep as the ocean when you take a moment to break the surface.
A great example of that is the single line from Mark King‘s The Return, ‘like an iceberg, his visible scars were just the edges.’ Such great imagery that both ties in to the prompt and paints an achingly vivid picture. That same story features some beautiful contrast, from the darkness and bleakness at the start, to the cerulean blueskies of hope at the end. Great stuff!
Another special mention goes to Margaret Locke‘s Two Halves Make a Hole, which also played with that mid-point shift. The flip from two people complementing each other to consuming each other was perfectly executed, and from that point on the sentences switch from long and flowing to short and punchy. It is a perfect example of using a shift in tone to emphasize the themes of the story.
Those were just a couple of examples, but there were so many great stories to pick from. You lot made it extremely hard to choose the winners, but choose we must!
Sinéad O’Hart: What a fantastic start to Fire&Ice! There were so many wonderful tales, each burning with volcanic power or thrumming with frozen majesty, that reading them was a privilege. I’m so pleased to have been first into the judging seat, alongside the marvellous Craig Anderson, and luckily we didn’t differ very much on our choices (it was a small skirmish, I assure you; neither of us lost more than a scale or two from our weathered dragon hides!)
I wanted to begin by thanking everyone. Writing flash is such a skill, and when a piece works – it *really* works. There were stories here which unfolded on a second or third reading, revealing more meaning tucked away in their tightly-controlled prose; there were tales which made me laugh, and others that stopped my breath. We had many stories about portals and awakening beasts, and each of them brought something new and unique to the table. We had fury, we had pain, we had loss and grief and love and more, all of it, in these tiny tales. What great writers you all are.
I want to make special mention of Taryn Noelle Kloeden‘s The Right to Cold, which will stay with me always, both the title and the tale itself. I also loved the glimpse of Jormungand the World-Serpent in Steph Ellis‘ Unlikely (my medievalist heart glowed). And, needless to say, the funny tales – particularly the meta-stories – brought a smile to my leathery chops. Thanks to Bart Van Goethem‘s The Awakening, and Esther van den Heuvel‘s untitled tale which gave us all a mention. I loved the final ‘Snap’ in Artie Dinters‘ Last One, and the closing image of Brett Milam‘s Crackle; brilliant stories, both. But, sadly, winners must be picked! And so, here we go.
SJO: I loved the feel of this tale; the sorrow and finality, the sense of threat, the separation from family, and the imagery of the petals and the water.
CA: This story put one-word sentences to great use to break up the flow of the story, punctuating it and really emphasizing the word in question. It staggers along, disjointed and bleak, with crying and bodies. Then when the family appears it starts to flow again, and the imagery becomes poetic, with tumbling cherry blossoms and laughter. The way that the petal surfaces does a great job of bringing that happiness into the ‘real’ world, and then just as suddenly it is snatched away again.
SJO: We were united in our appreciation for this hilarious depiction of a choir of singing (and burping) caves, and the use of all-dialogue was wonderful.
CA: I loved this one because it does something really well that you could never do in a longer story: it only uses dialogue to tell the story. So much character comes through in the banter between the voices and the playful way they tease each other. I also liked that it took things in a different direction, the prompt was so icy and bleak, and yet this story is light and funny.
SJO: What begins as just another ‘expedition to the frozen wastes’ story turns completely on its tail with that fantastic last line. This piece of flash shows how powerful the form can be – it’s a fully-developed story in its own right, but one which explodes into a million possibilities by the end.
CA: Wow, what a great example of how a single line can twist a whole story on its head. Its always the sign of a great flash fiction when the first thing i do after reading it is immediately go back and read it again! I loved how all the senses were invoked, the sharpness of the view, the moaning of the ice, the smell of perfume in the air, even the throat and cheeks that burned like whiskey. It’s hard work to convey so much information is such a short piece of flash, but here everything flows together so seamlessly to paint a vivid picture.
And now: for the very first time, we are pleased to announce the very first
CASEY ROSE FRANK !!!
SJO – This story slipped past me on first reading, and it was on a second read that its deeper meaning opened up before my eyes. I loved the play on ‘ice’ (not just the literal ice, but the diamond on Cora’s finger and, possibly, the cold shard in her heart too), and the incredible subtleties of meaning – the ring painfully misplaced, the cold hands inside the glove, the freedom of Cora’s thoughts compared with the stasis of her body and her situation. A wonderful and worthy winner.
CA — I was similar to Sinéad in that I had to read this one a couple of times to truly appreciate it. That subtlety is one of the most powerful things about this story, it creeps up on you. The imagery is quiet and unassuming, the thought about the waves travelling across the ocean to lap upon a warm beach, or the water pulsing in time with her heart beat. Then the layers of meaning start to bob to the surface. The water that can’t stay still is suddenly cemented in place as a glacier, but it never truly stops moving, it is still only ‘semi-permanent.’ Her diamond ring twisted on her finger, awkward and painful, and a final pang of jealousy that the water is free to flow away as it pleases, while she remains trapped. There’s just so much going on, and the whole thing is perfectly encapsulated in only 160 words.
Congratulations, Casey! Here’s your winning story:
How Do You Know
Cora had grown up amongst the constant current of rivers and lakes, and spent most summers submerged in an ocean that pulsed in the tandem with her heart.
But here she found water made land.
She stared at the ripples below, streaming away from the boat, perhaps going on to become a wave against a warmer shore. Or something as grand as a glacier, like a waterfall.
A sliver of ice broke off into the water and bobbed away.
She wondered how such solid semi-permanence existed right up against something incapable of keeping still.
How did the water choose?
Elliot’s gloved hand found hers and squeezed. She felt the sharp diamond edge of her ring twisted the wrong way against her fingers, awkward and painful under the fabric that still left her hands cold.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?”
She smiled and agreed it was, but kept watching the water that flowed beyond the horizon, moving farther than she could see.