Fantasy Faction Contest

Hey everyone,

Just a short update for now. I've just submitted my short story 'The Keeper of Tales' to the Fantasy Faction Anthology Competition. I'm immensely proud of the story (though I wouldn't be a writer if I didn't hate it a little as well), so I really hope I win.

The great part is, they have an 'entry plus' option. While the entry itself is free, for £7 you receive a full critique of your story by one of the judges, including what they liked, what they didn't, and what to work on as a writer. For the cost of a few cups of coffee this will be invaluable!

For those who don't know, 'The Keeper of Tales' is a fantasy/horror story taking place at the turn of the 1800s. Two brothers, both writers of children's folk tales, seek to bury the body of a woman in the haunted, snowy woods of Germany. But this is no ordinary body, and as we learn the identity of the brothers we come face to face with not only what caused them to commit this terrible crime, but what it means to be a storyteller.

Should I win, the story will be published in the upcoming Fantasy Faction Anthology, along with 5 other unknown writers and several known writers. As such there will be six winners all in all - all six winners will not only be published in the anthology but will receive a glass award to commemorate the achievement. The top three winners will also receive a cash prize.

First Place - $500

Second Place - £250

Third Place - $100

So, here's hoping. Do check out the website, feel free to enter, and as usual thanks for reading!

Matt

Five Sentence Fiction: Lost

It's Five Sentence Fiction time again! As usual, every week Lillie McFerrin posts a prompt on her blog (now moved to a new site). The goal? A flash fiction story, five sentences long, based on the prompt.

This one is a little formulaic, but I think it might work regardless. As usual, thanks for reading, and leave a comment to let me know what you think.

This Week's Prompt: Lost

(Photo taken by me - please do not use without permission)

It was starting to get dark; mist was rolling in from the reservoir, blurring the lines of trees and fallen logs and the slopes where, Sophie knew, she could easily fall and break her leg. As she stumbled on a mossy log she called out for them again, but she knew it would be fruitless; it had been hours since she had strayed from the path, and her parents were likely searching in completely the wrong direction.

Her eyes stung after the deluge of tears; another log, another stumble and she caught her balance on a huge tree, resting her back against it to try and let her despair subside. And there, almost hidden by a huge oak, was the smallest cabin; threadbare curtains hung on the windows, illuminated by the flickering candlelight within.

Her heart screamed that this was not right, that something seemed off, but she approached the cabin anyway; it was only when she got closer that she saw a hand let the threadbare curtain fall, and her voyeur’s shadow dart past the candlelight.

Five Sentence Fiction: Foggy

Time for another Five Sentence Fiction post. As usual, every week Lillie McFerrin posts a prompt. The objective? Write a five sentence long Flash Fiction story based off that prompt. It doesn't need to include the word, but just be the seed of the story.

My original idea for this prompt was different, but I couldn't get the idea to work. Perhaps I'll go back to it sometime, and write another story based off the idea. Perhaps it simply can't be told in five short sentences, and needs to be something a little longer. As usual, thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

This Week's Prompt: Foggy

Despite the density of the fog I knew that something was wrong.

I should have been able to see movement in the cabin’s windows, a shadow pass as my wife laid the table and my son did his best to distract her, but not the porch swing nor the trees dared to move and not a single light shone from within.

I got out of the car, my heart beating so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest, my mind whirring through all the possibilities. As my foot touched the porch step I had almost convinced myself that, just maybe, Sheryl had simply fallen asleep; a short lived lie, and in retrospect my last moment of solace before my world was ripped apart.

My foot slipped on something wet and I had to grab onto the railing to keep from falling; I looked, my heart beating even harder; the porch, the doorframe, and the door itself were soaked in what could only be my family’s blood.

Five Sentence Fiction: Armour

First time doing this - Every week, Lillie McFerrin posts a theme on her blog for a FSF challenge. Decided, at last, to give it a go!

This week's theme - Armour.

(Yes, I'm British, so I spell it with a U)

She donned the armour in silence, as best as she could considering she would have to manage on her own. First the leather hide, that part was easy; then plate metal, rubbed in goose fat for lubrication and insulation, for in the North Lands the cold could freeze your bones with just a whip of the wind.

She found that she could move easier than expected, and the magic of the armour changed its shape to accommodate her smaller physique, but as it twisted to the contours of her breasts the hole over her heart remained. The armour could not knit this back together, for the sword that had pierced it had been spelled with dark magic, with runes to degrade and destroy.

Cloaked now in the armour her father had died in, she took up his sword; tonight, her father would be avenged.

The Keeper of Tales, and 7 Sentence Challenge

The past few days have been focused on finishing my latest short story, which I've mentioned in previous posts. Following the feedback received from my writers group (a shout out here to Joanne, Eilis, Niamh and Cathy) and from my good friend Liz (visit her fantastic ezine Wordlegs), the story is very nearly complete. Titled 'The Keeper of Tales', it's about two brothers and their clandestine burial of a body deep in the snowy woods of Germany. As in all good stories there is more to this than meets the eye, and things go from bad to worse when we discover just who - or what - the body is.

I'll give no more away. It's now at a third or fourth draft stage, and I have a few others reading at the moment it for final opinions before I start looking for a suitable market. This, I think, I'll write about next time. There is a fantastic website I have used in the past, sort of like a searchable Writer and Artist Yearbook, which I couldn't recommend more if you are a fellow writer.

As a teaser, I thought I'd take part in a little meme proposed by my good friend Angela Goff over at Anonymous Legacy (you can follow her on twitter at @angela_goff). It's called 'The Lucky Seven Game'.

1. Go to page 7 or 77 in your current manuscripe.
2. Go to line 7.
3. Copy down the next seven lines/sentences as they are - no cheating.
4. Tag seven other authors.

While I don't have seven other authors to tag who have not already taken part (if you'd like to take part and don't have a blogspot, feel free to post in my comments), I thought, what better time to post something from The Keeper of Tales? So, here you have it - seven lines from the seventh page.

Wilhelm curses and pulls me on. The preternatural wind whips up again, the manifestation of her rage; all around us I hear sounds and movement coming out of the snow and the dark; inhuman cries, muddled voices and half conversations. A glance and Wilhelm dodges something I did not see, but I hear him swear even over the cacophony of sound.

‘What were those things,’ he calls.

‘I don’t know, just keep moving!’

‘They’re her, she’s doing this!’

Teasing, right? Hopefully you can read The Keeper of Tales soon as possible, if I am lucky enough for it to be picked up by anyone. Until next time, and thanks for reading.

Matt