7 Ways to Increase Your Chances of Self-Publishing Success

Originally posted on writers co-op:
Many writers have stories to tell, but they don’t want to deal with publishing or marketing their work. That was me roughly three years ago. What changed? Well,…

Flash fiction: Loving to Bits

The prompt this week for Matt’s Flash Fiction Foray was Young and Menace by Fall Out Boy. ‘No willpower,’ said Sharon. ‘Show him a box of chocs and he’ll scoff the lot.’ ‘Same… Continue reading

The Ill-fitting Suit

In the brouhaha leading up to the choice of France’s next president, no one has thought to interview the tailor who makes the constitutional suit. He isn’t easy to find, in fact, and… Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Trapped

With the A to Z over, it’s back to normal on the blogging front. And what better way to resume than with Matt’s Flash Fiction Foray – 100 words in response to a prompt,… Continue reading

Z is for Zero

Well, guess what? I didn’t get to Provence after all. I must have got into the wrong bag or the wrong queue, but I ended up in Madagascar! The flight was very long… Continue reading

Y is for Ystwyth

That’s the river Ystwyth, which flows into the sea at Aberystwyth. It chose that spot because ‘aber’ means ‘mouth’ in Welsh, though not the sort you eat gizzards with. I’ve never been to… Continue reading

X is for Xavier

Apart from having a name that begins with X, Xavier isn’t an interesting person at all. But he does indirectly lead to Cat Tales, the anthology drawn from last year’s Book a Break… Continue reading

W is for Welfare

And so the A to Z approaches the end. I’ve brought you all the cool cats in Cat Tales, the anthology drawn from last year’s Book a Break short story competition. As I’m sure… Continue reading

V is for VIP

Specifically, the VIP wheelie bin store where meetings are held every Monday night, attended by the Stealthy Six: Felix, Tom, Missy, Cinnamon, Bamboo and Tiger. In The Postal Code Cats, Olivia Templeton’s story in… Continue reading

U is for Ugbor

Standing on tiptoes, her arms and jaw resting on the frame, Elizabeth Ikhide looked out of the living room window of her parents’ apartment. It was a warm and tranquil Nigerian Wednesday morning… Continue reading

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