I've had a piece of flash fiction published over at Hypersonic Tales. It's called The Lady of Tilmarine, and it has an audio version and everything. Très chic. It's not a pro sale, little more than token, but it's a sale, at least. A bit of balm for the bruised ego as I approach the triple digits in rejection letters.
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The first e-mail I got from me was almost banal. “I saw you today, walking around,” it read. “I like your hat.”
I didn’t own a hat. But I had seen a hat I liked the other day. I bought it and wore it on my first date with Zeya. It worked wonders.
The messages were infrequent, always helpful. I followed all my advice. Yesterday, I got a new e-mail. “You fucked up,” it read. “You fucked it all up. God damn you to Hell.” Nothing else. Nothing since.
What should I do? I don’t know. What will I do?
Congrats! The reading is really quite nice.
ReplyDeleteThanks! Baby steps, as Bill Murray's mantra ran in that movie everyone else has forgotten about.
ReplyDeleteI was very pleased by the way it sounded. I'd written the story intending it to be read aloud, or at least to capture the rhythms. There were a couple of lines that stood out to me as needing more work in a spoken-word format that weren't apparent when I read it to myself, but overall I thought it turned out well.