Flash Fiction by Women Writers

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The first month the old woman didn’t pay her rent she bought a gun instead.

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The next month she ordered a live lobster. A boy brought it in a box strapped to the back of his bike. She handed him a two dollar coin. Then they both turned and stood a moment watching her neighbors shuffle their crying children into an overstuffed car. She shrugged and plucked a single envelope from her mailbox.

The Ironic World of Writing

I wrote a short story called “The Readers” that I unabashedly love. I do, I love this story. I’ve sent it out to a few markets and contests to no avail. Then I found what is the positively perfect spot, a lovely blogsite called 1 Bookshelf.

Although the blog is primarily essays about, you guessed it, a bookshelf, the tabs for submissions also included fiction.

Well, I don’t believe it’s a spoiler to tell you that “The Readers” involves a bookshelf.

Every anthology, blog, website, print or electronic has its own submission requirements. Don’t think for a moment that any two are close enough to just wing it and send. It’s part of a grand plan to be sure that you actually read the submission requirements, that’s the first of many secret passageways to publication you know.