does not describe me fully
it is where to start

Saturday, March 12, 2011

"Til Next Year" - Flash Fiction

Last year, I came across a request for submissions from Glossolalia, a literary review “… dedicated to the art of flash fiction ... only publish[ing] stories under 500 words.” I had a 229-word story “Til Next Year” which had always been too short to submit to anyone. So I reread it, tweaked it a bit and sent it off, truly not expecting much. To my surprise, Glossolalia published my story.

Belatedly, I focused on the name of the literary review. Glossolalia can refer to the religious practice of speaking in tongues familiar to me from my fundamentalist childhood. But, having surveyed the submission guidelines and read their other published stories, I found that the review had nothing to do with religious “speaking in tongues.” Nor did it seem to have anything to do with that other definition of glossolalia: “nonsensical or invented speech, especially resulting from a trance or schizophrenia.”

Oh well, the review does focus on flash fiction, and my short story definitely qualified as flash fiction. So, whatever the reason for the review’s name, I am honored that Glossolalia chose my story. Here is the link: Til Next Year And, no, my story has nothing to do with religious speaking in tongues either.


rosaria said...

Off to check it out! Congratulations!

Sun Singer said...

Congratulations...even though the rationale behind the review's name remain unknown.

Judith Mercado said...

Rosaria and Malcolm,

Tongues of Fire is what the review has as a subtitle. Maybe I should just have gone with that, except that in my childhood that meant a very specific thing; ie, baptism through the holy spirit resulting in speaking in tongues. Now I have written more about my modest story than the story is long and I probably should quit. Thanks for stopping by. I always appreciate your comments.

A Cuban In London said...

First of all, congrats! In my opinion the story has a documentary and voyeuristic feel. The former in the narration. The latter in what the reader is left to ponder after the last line. Why is he rude? Why the contrast between dog and owner? What is his secret, if any?

Good piece.

Greetings from London.

Judith Mercado said...

Thank you, Cuban. You have added to my understanding of my own story.

A Cuban In London said...

Many thanks for your latest comment on my blog, Judith. May I also add that in the little bit of fiction I've read by you, I've found a very fine sense of humour. It almost addresses the reader non-directly, but it's still there.

And here comes now admission time. I think, and I'm being slightly prejudiced, that female writers have a better capacity to fine-tune that sense of humour in literature than male ones. I would say that Kundera, Rushdie, Joyce (now, and I can only refer to 'Ulysses' as I haven't read his other works) and some others whose name I've forgotten, are the exception, rather than the rule.

But, then again, that's just me, thinking aloud. :-)

Greetings from London.

A Cuban In London said...

'confession', I meant 'confession time'. Sorry. End of a very loooooong week. :-)

Greetings from London.