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And by that, I mean that they’ve done it again – they’re bringing out their third anthology, full of beautiful story nuggets, flash fiction to fill your coffee breaks with, tales to disappear from the world in. And for this third instalment, it’s all about Time.
About the past.
About the present.
About the future.
And it will officially be arriving on Chinese New Year, 8 February, buy why wait when you can pre-order your copy now, right now.
And there’s old faces and new faces sharing their words. No stories from me in this one as other projects have been stealing my writing hours, but happily I did find time to play with the cover again (always a lot of fun). And once again all of the proceeds will be donated to charity, the Book Bus.
So y’all can get yourself a piece of Time by checking in here, and find out more about the FlashDogs at their website, perhaps even join them on Twitter. I may have mentioned this before, but they’re a mighty fine bunch of friendly, writerly folk.
Just dropping by to say:
Happy Father’s Day!
Happy International Day of Yoga… erm… day!
It’s a day crammed with celebrations (even the streets where I live have been taken over by carnival goers and rides – perhaps I might even join them soon, who can say no to beer in a plastic cup and the twang of toffee apples filling the air?)
But the award for biggest celebration of the day goes to…
… The FlashDogs!
HAPPY LAUNCH DAY!
That’s right, FlashDogs Volume 2, a two-part themed anthology goes on sale today. Two different volumes filled with the imaginings of 48 writers (including two brand new stories from me), with all proceeds going to The Book Bus charity.
You can find all the links to buy them at the FlashDogs website, and you might even notice that Volume 1 is available for free if you’ve not had a chance to pick it up before.
So in the spirit of the celebrations, I’m taking my hat off and raising my plastic glass to the FlashDogs team; Mark A. King, David Shakes and Emily June Street. It’s been a hard and hectic run up to launch and I don’t know how they’ve found the time – but not only did they find the time, they found the time to make the books goddamn bloody gorgeous.
So cheers to you FlashDogs, a well-deserved drink is in order.
They’re putting together a second anthology of beautiful, bitesize wordage.
And it’s coming soon.
So I’m just going to go ahead and leave this picture right here – share it, spread the word, print it out and eat cheese sandwiches off of it. For more official updates follow them on Twitter and join them in the writerly digital sphere that they run in.
And once you’ve done that, and you’re sitting with your coffee and biscuits and waiting because it’s coming but it’s not goddamn here yet – don’t forget that their first anthology is still for sale, and it’s a darn fine read.
(Y’all can just go ahead and right-click on the image to save it, then spread it across the internet like it’s some sort of digital jam).
Remember that COMING SOON news I shared?
Seen all the tweeting and general excitement on the social nettings?
WELL THE FLASHDOGS HAVE ARRIVED!
And they’ve brought with them an anthology, stuffed to bursting with some of the finest flash fiction from all over the world.
So, without further ado, here’s why you’ve got to get up, right now, and go buy this book.
*Only kidding, you’re quite welcome to stay sitting down*
1. It’s a whole lot of stories
It’s ONE HUNDRED AND TEN stories, guys. One hundred and ten. That’s two ones and a big fat zero, and they’re broken down into bitesize chunks that you can read on the bus or on your coffee break. You might even sneak one in at the Christmas dinner table while Grandpa tells that story about how the turkey didn’t defrost properly and everyone got the shits during the Queen’s speech. Again.
2. It’s a whole lot of authors
Thirty-four to be precise. All with different styles, stories and brilliant brain worms to get lost in.
3. It’s got my words in
Yeah, ok – *shameless plug saxon alert* – the FlashDogs were kind enough to take me in as one of their own and include two of my stories in the anthology. But don’t let that put you off.
4. It’s not got my words in
Oh damn, that put you off, right? Well, you’re in luck, with another thirty-three writers, there’s plenty to distract you.
5. It’s for CHARITEEE
Yep. That’s right. The profits go to charity. And no, I don’t mean the “Bottle of Wine for the Christmas Party” charity. I mean a proper one. I mean IBBY. That’s The International Board on Books for Young People. They’re a non-profit organisation committed to bringing books and children together. And that’s pretty darn cool.
6. You might just want to join in
The FlashDogs don’t just write. They encourage you to write. They run as a pack on Twitter and they’re inviting you to join them. Find them on the #FlashDogs hashtag, or as @FlashDogs. (*Notice how I managed to completely avoid saying ‘they don’t bite’ – that took ALL OF THE WILL POWER*)
Special shoutouts here have got to go to Mark King and David Shakes for bringing the FlashDogs anthology out of the mists of Twitter and into reality, and Emily June Street for editing and building such a beautiful book. And let’s add to that the wonderful Natalie Bowers who only bloody well donated her well deserved book promotion prize to the FlashDogs’ cause.
So, to summarise:
Go buy the FlashDogs anthology.
Go buy our anthology.
Go make it your anthology.
Please and thank you.
Today I’m actually gonna go ahead and share some news.
I mean, COMING SOON news. The type of news that means that now you just gotta keep on watching and waiting cos it’s not quite here yet. But it’s goddamn great news.
THE FLASH DOGS ARE COMING.
They’re a bunch of the finest people and most entertaining writers of flash fiction I’ve had the pleasure to meet in the Twitterverse, and they’ve only gone and put together an anthology of flash fiction which is COMING SOON (*ahem* just in time for Christmas, perchance *ahem*). I’ve been honoured to have a few of my pieces included, among what promises to be a mix of the bizarre to the beautiful, all in bitesize readerly pieces.
Follow them on the Twitter-machine for the latest updates and more official news-type related information, and I’m sure I’ll be posting again about them here in the not too distant future.
If it sparks your fancy then it’d be a right and proper grand thing if you could help spread the word (please and thankyou, gratitude expressed in imaginary digital beer and bona-fide genuine good cheer) – share this post, drop a tweet, use the teaser image below to link back to Flash Dogs. (Usual drill, if you right click and save the picture you can use it to spread the word on your own parts of the interwebs).
And so this proper news-esque interlude comes to an end.
Ta very much, fiends.
Last week I got the proper great news that 365 Tomorrows featured one of my stories.
It’s a little story, maybe a 60 second read.
But it’s one I’ve been fond of for a while, and it’s always good to see lonely words go to a nice home.
Do you know what shit’s going down this month?
In a month that apparently includes “STAY UP ALL NIGHT” day, “ROOT CANAL APPRECIATION” day and the most fantastic “CHICKEN DANCE” day, it’s only bloody well International Short Story Month as well.
And do you know what this means?
It means that I want to hear your best short story recommendations. They can be stories you’ve written, stories by other people you love, stories that just don’t have a home to go to so you felt sorry for them and took them in.
I’ll start the ball rolling by pointing you in the direction of my own free short stories that are up here at the Dust Lounge (just saying, like). Y’all should read ‘em, tell me what you think, share ‘em.
But if we get past just talking about what I’ve been up to, I’d want to share Neil Gaiman’s book of short stories, Smoke and Mirrors. I bought this book just before I spent some time living in Tenerife for a few months, and after a period of sun soaked reading I pretty much entirely blame this book for the fact that I am once again addicted to writing words and splurging thoughts into the world.
Suffice to say, I think you should read it.
So now it’s your turn – share your stories, share the stories you love by other authors. Share them all. Whack them in the comments and we’ll spend a month partaking of short reads and drenching our brains in inspiring mini feasts of words.
I’m waiting for your words, fiends.
It’s been a weird week.
It’s been packing and unpacking and cleaning and recleaning.
It’s been shouting with letting agents and smooching with them.
I’ve been stressed as a nervous hamster wired on coffee.
But I think I’m coming out the end of it now and thank fuck for that.
They say that moving house is one of the most stressful things to do. Bar marriage. Bar divorce. Bar adopting a feral albino skunk.
This was the eleventh move in as many years. A move where it turned out I didn’t move. It turned out I just packed everything into boxes and then unpacked them again in the same rooms.
Which initially felt kind of shit. Kind of like going backwards. Kind of like the monkey on my shoulder was playing with my expectations and pulling my hair. Kind of like I wanted to cry.
But it was kind of okay.
Maybe I don’t have itchy feet. Maybe I just have a love of boxes.
All the spider-strewn boxes. Full of forgotten things that were just waiting for the Great Packing Event to be rediscovered.
The sequence of passport photos tracking me across my teenage years. The series of school photos documenting my trendy array of bowl cuts. The diary from when I was ten years old with a short story stuck between the pages. The lollipop stick from the ice-cream I was given when I fainted in a Spanish market.
All of these things I wouldn’t have remembered if it weren’t for (not) moving.
So as I’m unpacking, finding new homes for the things that used to live in the cupboard-on-the-left but now chill out in the cupboard-on-the-right, it’s a strange kind of fun.
It’s a journey down memory lane.
It’s a throw out the chaff and blow-dry the cobwebs thing.
It’s a start again but older and wiser.
*Less of the older, please*
So even though the last month has been sadly lacking any major writing progress, it’s been full of writing ammunition.
And all I can say is; maybe I was hungry, maybe I needed a piss, or maybe I just wasn’t big on long endings. But, for your eyeball delectation, here’s the adventures of Doris Dormouse. Written by me in my best handwriting. Aged ten. Typed with all the mistakes
Doris, who was a Dormouse, trudged along the dusty gravel road, kicking up great clouds of dust. She was heading for a nice holiday home where she was going to stay for the summer holidays. As she carried her little blue bag which was embroidered with gold thread saying D.D., she came across a poor little squirrel who was crying by the road. Doris was touched by the way the squirrel was acting for she was one of those Dormice that are very friendly to other inhabitants of the land.
“Hello,” she said hoping the squirrel would hear her, for he was much bigger than she was, “aren’t you meant to be up a tree playing with your friends, especially on a nice day like this?”
“I know!” wailed the squirrel who seemed to have heard her, “I fell out of the tree and hit my head, and know I’ve forgotten how to climb up a tree!”
“Oh! That is bad” exclaimed Doris. Then after a little thought, Doris said: “Perhaps….. you would like to live with me for a while, until your memory of ‘How to climb trees’ comes back?”
“Would you really?” said the squirrel with such hopefulnes in his voice that Doris just had to say yes. So she did.
“Yipeeeeeeeee!” rejoiced the squirrel, who was so pleased that he decided to let Doris ride the rest of the way to her holiday home that she was sharing with him, on his back (even though they did take a wrong turning or two!).
At last the two of them arrived at the place that they were going to stay for the next couple of weeks. It had a green door with a yellow doorknob. Doris went in and then had to assist Squirt (the squirrel) by pulling him through!
The inside was beautiful. First of all, Doris and Squir walked down a solid marble stair case leading into a big room, split into 3 sections, lounge, kitchen and dining room, and all of these whe were extremely posh.
And so Doris Dormouse decided to stay in her home, as the Landlord was VERY friendly.
P.S. Squirt stayed with Doris for a LONG time. He DID remember how to climb trees but had decided to stay with Doris because she was so nice(!)