Last week, I introduced my students to flash fiction and it blew their minds: half of them stood up and shouted, “What? A story can be only one sentence long? That's crazy!” I nodded sagely then said, “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,” and they were so excited they started doing jumping jacks, but I made them sit back down, so we could go around in a circle and talk about our feelings (“Again?” they muttered, but I know they liked it). That, my friends, is the power of the short form.
Your very best, in 300 words or less, of poetry, fiction, or nonfiction. Please send only one submission at a time. Simultaneous submissions are fine; just let us know ASAP if you need to withdraw your piece.
We are now accepting electronic submissions via Submishmash!
On the first day of each month, our guest judge (a dislocate staff member or an MFA student from the University of Minnesota) will read submissions in the order that they were submitted. As soon as a piece gets our judge jumping-jacking—a winner!—the contest is over for the month. All unread submissions will be held for the next month's contest. All submissions will also be considered for publication in dislocate's print journal.
Please note: we do not consider entries from University of Minnesota faculty, staff, current students, or alumni who have graduated in the past five years. We do not accept entries from dislocate.org staff writers.
Each monthly winner will receive fame and glory, in the form of publication on the front page of the dislocate website as well as in the Past Winners archive, and a copy of the latest issue of dislocate. Winning entries are also considered for publication in the upcoming print issue.
784 pp., Ballatine, $27
Reviewed by Sara Joy Culver
1.
The important thing to understand before you read this review is that I am not a snob.
This excerpt from the diary of Eric Murphy, dated 24 June 2010, is currently on loan to dislocate.org from the British National Museum for Literature.
24 June 2010
As I find myself in the middle of an extended stay on a peculiar, far-flung Island which has no access to Taco Bell and whose barbaric entertainment systems are incompatible with my 30 Rock digital versatile discks, I need something to occupy me throughout the evening and night.
I write this while sitting underneath a small, window air conditioner, one that barely cools the space around me, not to mention the entire room. Outside, the temperature clocks in at 91 degrees with humidity somewhere between 70 and 80 percent, the heat index somewhere in the triple digits, completely obscene.
[read]9.01.10I'm visiting my hometown in rural northern California, and as I write this I'm sitting on an ocean bluff in fog so thick I can't see the water. I am told that this particular bluff is home to the southernmost individual Sitka spruce on the west coast, but the tree is allegedly nestled in a hidden rocky crevice and I haven't located it yet. The fog doesn't help, of course.
[read]8.24.10Attention writers and readers: We are now accepting poetry, fiction, and nonfiction submissions for our Issue 7 reading period, July 15 to November 15, 2010. This year we have transitioned to an online-only submission policy: submit your work via Submishmash. This will streamline our reading process and expedite responses to our prospective contributors.
[read]7.14.10Didn't get a chance to attend dislocate's annual shindig, celebrating the new issue release and the launch of the website whose site tracker statistics you are at this very moment improving? We made a slideshow for you so that you would make sure to clear your calendar and book plane tickets to Minneapolis for next year.
[read]5.16.10