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You'll find the full text of the following Rob Sawyer short stories available right here:

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One of the by-products of hyperspecificity is a preponderance of proper names. For maximum specificity and minimum word count, names can’t be beat. Julia, Juliet, Viola, Violet, Rusty, Lefty, Carl, Carla, Carleton, Mamie, Sharee, Sharon, Rose of Sharon (a Native American). In acknowledgment of the times, the 2004 and 2005 volumes each contain exactly one Middle East story, each featuring a character called Hassan. I found these names annoying, universally so. I was no less annoyed by John Briggs or John Hillman than by Sybil Mildred Clemm Legrand Pascal, who invites the reader to call her Miss Sibby. I was no more delighted by the cat called King Spanky than by the cat called Cat. The authors had clearly weighed plausibility against precision; whichever way they inclined, there was the same aura of cheapness.

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Finalist for the 2001 Aurora Award (5,800 words).

Kelly Gurnett runs the blog and is growing her own freelance writing, editing and blogging empire day by day. You can follow her on and and hire her services .

American novelists are ashamed to find their own lives interesting; all the rooms in the house have become haunted, the available subjects have been blocked off. What remains to be written about? (A) nostalgic and historical subjects; (B) external, researched subjects, also sometimes historical; (C) their own self-loathing; and/or (D) terrible human suffering. For years, Lorrie Moore has only written about cancer. In A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Dave Eggers implies that anyone who does not find his story compelling is unsympathetic to cancer victims; he describes in gory detail how he plans to eviscerate such people, how he plans to be eviscerated by them in turn. For writers who aren’t into cancer, there is the Holocaust, and of course the items can be recombined: cancer and the Holocaust, cancer and American nostalgia, the Holocaust and American nostalgia.


Find this month's featured stories above.

A first line like “Lorraine skipped her usual coffee session at the Limestone Diner” is supposed to create the illusion that the reader already knows Lorraine, knows about her usual coffee, and, thus, cares why Lorraine has violated her routine. It’s like a confidence man who rushes up and claps you on the shoulder, trying to make you think you already know him.

A murder mystery set aboard a space habitat.

In later years, holding forth to an interviewer or to an audience of aging fans at a comic book convention, Sam Clay liked to declare, apropos of his and Joe Kavalier’s greatest creation, that back when he was a boy, sealed and hog-tied inside the airtight vessel known as Brooklyn New York, he had been haunted by dreams of Harry Houdini.

What really happened to the bones of Peking Man?

is a journal dedicated to the short story. There's no better medium for fiction in these time-compressed days than a short story that pulls you in and delivers. We hope you find many of them here on these pages.

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I think to publish the story in New York Times magazine is a dream and honor for every writer. Even though it’s not paid it has so many benefits.

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The meter filled up and my message was on its way. Three minutes later, I heard back from Cheryl. I knew u didn’t pay attention to what I liked. Enjoy your pad prik king, Jason. I’ll see u around. Maybe.

A tale of intelligent dinosaurs during the Mesozoic.

Another brilliant list, Kelly. Many thanks. I’d add Slice because the pay is good: and also Glimmer Train, whose standard category (no submission fee) is open until 31st May. They pay $700 for fiction: