Read this story about a special education teacher named Sandy and her student "brigade" here (free link).
[Please disregard the "read more" link at the end of this post.]
Read more!
Showing posts with label my fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my fiction. Show all posts
Friday, May 18, 2018
New Short Story at "Page & Spine": The Chia Pet Brigade
Read this story about a special education teacher named Sandy and her student "brigade" here (free link).
[Please disregard the "read more" link at the end of this post.]
Read more!
Wednesday, May 9, 2018
Curious Fictions: A New Home for My Stories
Basically, this site is quite the boon for authors. It has the potential to create a small but noticeable passive income stream based on works that were previously published, and considering how low most payments for short fiction are, every little bit helps! The interface also makes it incredibly easy for authors to post stories, and they retain their copyright and the ability to take stories down if they want or need to for any reason.
I definitely would encourage readers and writers to check out Curious Fictions! Authors need to be invited, but can ask for an invitation at the site, or get one from an existing participant (I have a few invites to offer, by the way). I've also been enjoying the site as a reader, and have stumbled upon some truly enjoyable stories I might have missed otherwise. Remember, even though you enter payment information to access the stories, you do not actually need to pay anything unless you choose to do so.
Here's the link to the overall site. I hope you check it out, and enjoy it!
Read more!
Thursday, July 6, 2017
Two New Short Stories - July 2017
I have two new stories out this month, both free to read at the links below.
"Jackpot Time"
Every day, Cass puts a quarter into "Bessie," the slot machine at the Lovelock Grand View Cafe. Is it possible Bessie might give her something special in return? This story appears in Issue 19 (July 2017) of the Devilfish Review.
"Ménagerie in Motion"
With animals ranging from a lynx kitten to a floating yellow angelfish, Armand's Amazing Traveling Ménagerie is on the move yet again. But how long can Armand keep the Ménagerie in motion all by himself? This story appears in the Summer 2017 issue of Syntax and Salt.
To see a complete list of my published short stories, click here.
Read more!
Wednesday, April 26, 2017
Audio teaser: Places We Call Home
This is a 52-second audio teaser for my recently published story "Places We Call Home", narrated by Lauren Harris and produced by Bryan Lincoln.
To access the entire story in audio or text, click here.
And here is the same snippet in text form:
ONE OF MY MOST VIVID MEMORIES from our time on Radu IV is hearing my nanny calling, or rather trilling, “Faeeeerrrin! Faeeeerrrin!” He did this every evening after the first sunset and before the second. His inflection, alien but familiar, made a song of the name, so beautiful that even now the memory brings back feelings of safety and longing and loss.
Safety because those were the days when I knew my world, and felt safe in it. Longing because Anyuen wasn’t calling me; he was calling Faren, my baby sister.
And loss because Faren is lost to me forever.
Read more!
Friday, April 14, 2017
New Story Podcast - Places We Call Home
In this story, Bronwyn realizes that her younger sister Faren is suffering from neeranji, an alien form of homesickness. With time of the essence, Bronwyn must ask herself what she is willing to sacrifice to make things right.
I started this story in the year 2000 while attending Clarion West, but it just wasn't working. In the years since, I returned to this story over and over, trying to capture a specific emotion that eluded me. Aside from the first paragraph, which remained unchanged during fifteen years of revision, I finally got the rest of the story just the way I wanted it. Now I consider this my most fully realized story to date.
Read -- or, better yet, listen to -- the story here.
Several of my other stories are available as podcasts as well (click on "Read more" for links):
- In Toasted Cake: Fella Down a Hole
- In Glittership: Minghun
- In Podcastle: On Not Noticing a Bear (*)
Saturday, January 21, 2017
New Short Story at "Escape Pod"
[Please disregard the "read more" link at the end of this post.] Read more!
Saturday, October 1, 2016
New Short Story in "Abyss & Apex"
My short story "Study. Learn. Know." is now available in the 2016 4th quarter issue of Abyss & Apex. This is a far future science fiction story about hermit crabs, scholars, and AI programs. Read it free here!
Funnily enough, my biography at the end of the story, which I just e-mailed to the magazine a day or two ago, says that my husband and I live in upstate New York. Except we moved to Houston almost thirteen years ago. Freudian slip?
Short fiction reviews coming within the next few days....
[Please disregard the "read more" link at the end of this post.] Read more!
Thursday, July 21, 2016
July 2016 Publications
My 2007 story "Waterfall" appears as a reprint today in Expanded Horizons. Here's where to find that story as well as my other July publications:
In the future, art may take on forms we can't yet achieve. But the more things change, the more they stay the same. Originally published in the September 2007 issue of Khimairal Ink, this story about an artist's muse also appears here in Expanded Horizons (free).
Special Agent Leeland and Special Agent Dunce have gotten a tip that a very serious crime is in progress. Read it free here at Every Day Fiction.
My short story "Suicide Club" has been reprinted in Trigger Warning: Short Fiction with Pictures, and is accompanied by a killer illustration (no pun intended) by artist John Skewes. Read it free here.
Even brief encounters can make lasting, life-altering impressions. This 600-word short story appears in Zetetic: A Record of Unusual Inquiry, and is free to read here.
Originally published with a slightly different title in Perihelion in July 2015, this story is now available as part of Digital Fiction Pub's "QuickFic" feature here. Find out what a girl does when her friends have disappeared and, like, nobody is answering their cells!
Read more!
Monday, July 18, 2016
Monday Morning Fun!
My story "Leeland and Dunce, on the Case" is out this morning from Every Day Fiction. A lot of my stories are on the serious side. This one? Not so much! Enjoy it free here.
Read more!
Thursday, June 23, 2016
Story reprint (first time online) - Suicide Club
The story is short, at only 1,500 words. In light of full disclosure, please be aware that "Suicide Club" is not a cheerful story. However, aside from a little profanity, it's not graphic. (And it's also not autobiographical!) If you want to find out what the first rule of "Suicide Club" is, click here.
Last but not least, there's one aspect of the story that people tend to interpret in different ways. To get a better idea of where people stand on that, I've created a very brief, three-question survey here. I'd appreciate your feedback!
Read more!
Thursday, June 16, 2016
New short story - "Daisy, Cactus, Porcupine, Ghost"
Read more!
Thursday, June 9, 2016
The Grand Tour: A Piece of Flash Re-inspired by a NASA "Travel Poster"
Earlier today I came across a post about these lovely retro-style "travel" posters created by the design studio at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Labs. The Jupiter poster is my favorite by far, but the "Grand Tour" poster reminded me that not long ago, I had played with creating a flash fiction story with that exact title. So I just peeked back at the story, made a few little tweaks, and present it here, just for fun.
by
Amy Sisson
Three weeks into the twenty-five month voyage, Stacey had to admit it to herself. It wasn't the Grand Tour she'd wanted, exactly. It was being able to say that she'd done the Grand Tour.
It had sounded so exciting: fly-bys of the Moon, Mars, Ceres, and Jupiter. Stacey remembered the fuss everyone had made when that Bobby kid returned from the first Grand Tour. He was sixteen when he'd left, but turned eighteen en route -- that was the cut-off; you had to be of legal age by journey's end. He was the first kid on a long-duration voyage, and the world treated him like a rock star.
Stacey read about the upcoming second tour. It would take longer than the first, due to orbital mechanics, whatever those were. So at not-quite-sixteen, she would be younger than Bobby when he'd left, but could still make the cut-off. She immediately started petitioning her grandparents to buy her passage. It took more than money, she knew, but Gramps was connected. That was easy, actually; getting her parents' approval was something else. But Stacey was good at getting what she wanted. She reminded them that only one other teenager had done it, so she would practically be guaranteed admission to any college on the planet when she got back.
And here she was, stuck in this tin can for the next two years. What had she been thinking? She was the only one on the ship younger than thirty-five. She'd known it was silly, but Stacey had secretly hoped for a dazzling interplanetary romance -- that really would have gotten some attention.
So yeah, this whole thing pretty much sucked.
To be fair, some of the passengers were okay. Sofia was a composer, for instance, and even though she mostly did classical stuff, she'd worked with some famous pop stars and didn't mind sharing the juicy rumors. And Gerald, a doctor, seemed happy to have Stacey onboard, even if it was only because she provided a little age variety for his research. In return for his promise of a kick-ass recommendation letter, Stacey agreed to be one of his guinea pigs.
Stacey's favorite, though, was Alina, who had a slight Russian accent and looked young enough to be Stacey's sister. Alina took Stacey seriously -- well, mostly. She did call Stacey "rich girl" but not unkindly. And she could be kind of blunt.
"You're bored? What did you expect?" Alina said. She was painting a still life of the engine room, of all things. Alina planned to capture the entire voyage in acrylics, and had been given a special weight allowance for supplies.
"I thought there would be more . . . social life," Stacey said.
Alina snorted. "There's plenty of 'social life,'" she said. "The weekly poker game . . . no, you're not ready for that. But come to our book group. We read all kinds of things, and eventually we'll let you choose the book. But maybe not Vampire Werewolves on Mars, okay?"
"Very funny," Stacey said. But she read that week's book, and the next. She was shy about venturing her opinion at first, but then she realized they all teased each other. That's what made it fun.
It wasn't enough, though. The next time Stacey and Alina had the exercise room to themselves, she asked Alina when she'd decided to become a painter.
"I didn't decide," Alina said, panting slightly. "My mother gave me paints when I was six. She said I was already a painter before that."
"But how did you know that's what you wanted to do? And why come out here? Except for the fly-bys, the scenery won't change much."
"Always the questions," Alina said, smiling. "I'm capturing the voyage, the journey. Photographs, they're not the same. I will show the world how I see it. Sofia, she captures the journey in music. Gerald pins down the science. The others, I don't know well yet. But why are you here?"
Stacey sighed. "You can't tell anyone, but I think maybe I ... just wanted the attention." It was hard to say that out loud, even to Alina.
Alina didn't laugh. "It's okay," she said. "You just find a new answer for why you're here, and make it true. Keep asking questions. We have how many months left? Before we're done, you learn every person on this ship."
"Get to know them, you mean?"
"Yes, and more. I do my portraits -- the passengers, the ship -- and Sofia does hers, her way. You will do this too -- you make a ‘portrait’ of everyone on this ship."
"But Alina, half of them won't even talk to me," Stacey protested.
"You make them talk. You find out about them ahead, then ask them good questions. They'll talk." Alina looked hard at Stacey. "Don't wish this away, rich girl. Ten years from now when you are a person, you don't want to realize you wasted this trip."
Stacey thought about that. What did Alina mean, when Stacey was a person? What was she now?
She looked up her shipmates. The communications lag back to Earth was noticeable now, but the ship had a cached version of the Net. These people had actually done some interesting stuff. Captain Tomlinson, for instance, had been the first person to set foot on Europa, before she'd left NASA for space tourism.
But maybe Stacey should start with someone less intimidating. The next morning, she poked her head into the hydroponics lab where Landers -- Alina was trying to nickname him "Sprouts" but it hadn't stuck yet -- was poking around with some seed trays. He was a kind-looking man with gray hair at the temples.
"Knock knock," Stacey said.
Landers looked up, confused until his mind switched gears. "Oh. Stacey. Can I help you?"
"I was just wondering," Stacey began. "If maybe you could tell me about your plants?"
"Sure," Landers said. He actually looked glad for the company. "C’mon in."
Read more!
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
Anthology Release Blog Tour: One Star Reviews of the Afterlife
For your reading pleasure, below are two short excerpts, one from my own story titled "Ghost in a Bottle" and one from Giovanni Valentino's "Tort Reform for the Devil".
... So, on the way to the pavilion, I see this little booth with this guy shouting something about ghosts in a bottle, get your ghosts in a bottle! I nudge Tim with my elbow and say, "Get a load of that." There's a group of people standing all around the guy, so we walk over to listen.
He says, "Folks, this is your once-in-a-lifetime chance to get your very own patent-pending Ghost in a Bottle. I employ professional ghost hunters to track down phantoms, specters and poltergeist, and then I use my own personal patented technique to trap the ghost in specially prepared vessels—"
"You mean beer bottles!" Tim shouts.
"—specially prepared beer bottles," the guy goes on without missing a beat. "Ghosts like a cold one just like the rest of us, sir." And the crowd laughs at Tim instead of the huckster. That guy was slick, I'll tell you that.
What? No, the bottles didn't have beer labels on them. He must've soaked 'em off. They just had these little homemade labels. So anyway, the guy yells, "Folks, for the infinitesimal sum of four dollars and ninety-five cents, tax included, you too can have your very own Ghost in a Bottle! But do not open the bottle, or you risk releasing the wrath of a very irate spirit!"
No, of course I didn't believe it, not then. But I thought Miranda — she's my girlfriend — would get a kick out of it. So I tell the guy to give me a ghost, and make it a good one. He hands me a bottle this unearthly shade of green, with a label that says "Ghost in a Bottle (Patent Pending). Scorned woman. Open at your own risk."
Sorry, what? Yes, Miranda's my girlfriend. I told you that already. We've been going together for about six months.
She said that? No way, man. She never told me she was seeing other guys. I don't believe it.
Look, you want me to finish telling you the story or not?
... The office door swung open slowly and the temperature of the room dropped ten degrees in a matter of seconds. A tall broad-shouldered man strode confidently into the room. His white Brioni double breasted suit fit his body like it was tailor made. His hair and thin beard were meticulously groomed into sharp angles and his eyebrows pointed up in the middle.
Allen jumped up from his desk and met the man mid-way. He extended his hand and said, “Lou, it’s good to see you. I wasn’t expecting you to show up for a nickel and dime case like this.”
Lou grabbed Allen’s hand and shook it firmly, placing his other hand on the lawyer’s elbow. “I’d hardly call this a nickel and dime case, Al. Or did you think I wouldn’t figure out that Artie Thedford was the legal name of Lance Combat, the Blockbuster action star of the silver screen.”
“Well, it never hurts to try.” Allen stepped back behind his desk and motioned for Lou to sit down.
“’Nothing ventured, Nothing Gained’ my old buddy Ben Franklin used to say.” Lou smiled and tilted his head to the side. “Actually, I think I heard him say that just last week.”
“If it isn’t the prince of Darkness. Mephistopheles himself.” Artie rolled his scooter forward and held out his hand but the man made no movement toward taking it.
“It’s Lucifer, if you don’t mind.” Lou stepped around Artie, slipped into the chair and pulled his briefcase on his lap.
“Right, Lucifer, a.k.a. Old Scratch.” Artie pointed toward him with gun hands, making barely audible shooting sounds.
“No, it’s just Lucifer. What is it with you monkeys and the need to create demeaning nicknames? My name means light-bringer in Latin and morning star in Greek. Where do you get Prince of Darkness from that?”
“Sorry,” Artie rolled his scooter back. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.”
Lucifer continued his rant without even acknowledging Artie’s apology. “Like ScarJo or J Law. Why do you need to give these wonderful actors a diminutive? Scarlett Johansson is a master thespian and Jennifer Lawrence is a national treasure. And they did it all with their own natural talent. I don’t have contracts for either of them in my case and they still manage to out gross your films.”
“Well ... It’s fun and catchy. It goes viral faster and helps their careers. I know Scarlett Johansson doesn’t like it but Jennifer Lawrence has told the press she doesn’t mind.”
“This coming from the man whose parents named him R2-D2.” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “A name you never seem to use I noticed.”
Allen glared at his client. “R2-D2?”
“I was born in the late 70’s. Star Wars mania was sweeping the country. The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded, you know.” Artie chuckled.
“You know if that’s your legal name, a lot of the documents you’ve signed for me might not be binding.” Allen shook his head in frustration.
“Can you two cover this later, Al?” Lucifer scowled, tapping his foot impatiently. “I have other appointments today.”
“Sorry, Lou.” Allen pulled out two copies of a massive contract from his desk drawer. The documents were each over 700 pages long and must have weighed sixty pounds. He dropped one in front of Artie and the other in front of Lucifer. “Here is a copy of the agreement for each of you to follow along with.”
“No thanks. I have the original.” Lucifer popped open his briefcase and the scent of sulfur and brimstone flooded the room. He pulled out a thick black leather-bound tome. Letting out a sigh, he moved his gaze between Allen and Artie. “Do we really need to do this, Al? I’ve read this over. It’s airtight. Your client negotiated a very good deal for himself. Better than anyone else gets. A movie career. Tons of money. Tons of women. And he even got an eighteen-year term instead of the standard ten.”
“It can’t hurt to look, Lou.” Allen said.
“Need I remind you that it can.” Lucifer’s expression filled with genuine concern. “This isn’t like the old days where every idiot got to challenge me. If you can’t at least present one relevant breachable point, I get your soul as well. I’m telling you, there isn’t one and you can’t win this one. Unless you have a death wish, I strongly recommend we end this here and now.”
For more on these and the anthology's other stories:
Remember, "Go to the light at your own peril. It could be life everlasting, or it could be an oncoming train." Read more!
Sunday, December 13, 2015
Pop-Up Microfiction: Endless Suite
Tired of The Nutcracker? This little piece of pop-up microfiction says that you might not be the only one. A slightly different version of this story was originally published by Apex in December 2013, as the third place winner in their Christmas horror microfiction contest.
I couldn't resist mentioning the Houston Ballet....
Endless Suite by Amy Sisson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
Read more!
Monday, October 19, 2015
October publications
October has been a big month for me publication-wise, with three stories just out and one more to launch on October 31. Funny, I just realized that three are sort of love stories -- does that mean I'm a romantic? The fourth is a piece of Halloween flash fiction.
"My Eyes Molly Brown"
"My Eyes Molly Brown" appears in A Quiet Shelter There, an October 2015 anthology edited by Gerri Leen. Read the Publishers Weekly review here; order the print book from Amazon or directly from the publisher, Hadley Rille Books. E-book editions should be available soon in a variety of formats.
"Dressing Mr. Featherbottom"
"Minghun:
Unlikely Patron Saints, No. 5" (podcast)
"Dear Editor"
Click here for a complete list of my fiction publications.
Read more!
Monday, October 5, 2015
Pop-Up Microfiction: That'll Learn 'Em
I hope you enjoy this little pop-up piece of microfiction. It's an embedded PDF that can be clicked to enlarge or download. (I promise it's clean; I don't have the slightest idea how to embed nastiness into files! It took me about two hours just to figure out how to get this in a post.)
©2015 by Amy Sisson. Free to share with correct attribution.
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Monday, July 13, 2015
A list of my published fiction
Although this is primarily a reviews blog, I needed an online place to stash a list of my own fiction publications, so I've created one here.
Many of my short stories are available free online. I hope you'll check out the list and see if anything appeals to you. Thanks!
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