“One crucial thing that was missing in the world until recently? A single place to celebrate all of the wondrous and wonderful bigness of the tiniest of stories. Much gratitude for Best Microfiction.” –Grant Faulkner, executive director of National Novel Writing Month
“Short, sharp, funny, and sometimes dark. Penguins, too. The microfictions in Best Microfiction 2020 are compressed works of wondrous delight.” –Marcy Dermansky, author of Very Nice
Purchase a copy at Pelekinesis Press.
Girls on Film
Paper Nautilus Press, 33 pages
“Girls on Film is a flash fiction collection delving into our obsession with celebrity and image. Limiting herself to under one-thousand words per story, author Kathryn Kulpa produces a rich hybrid of short story and poetry, abundant with imagery and dense in lyricism.”
–South Coast Almanac
“With wit, pathos, and fresh insight, Kulpa captures the essence of American young-womanhood in eight loosely connected flash portraits. Each story is a small world, lean as a haiku and powerful as a novel.”
–Karen Rile, founding editor, Cleaver Magazine
Pleasant Drugs: Stories
Mid-List Press, 219 Pages
“Pleasant Drugs will not numb your senses; rather, it will sharpen and refine them, each potent story honing in on that slice of life between grief and joy.“–Ami Zensius, Mills Quarterly
“The author has many kinds of stories to tell, but all are character-driven and as finely cut as gemstones. An exemplar of the short story.”–Kliatt
Purchase a copy at Amazon.
Up, Do: Flash Fiction by Women
Spider Road Press, 103 pages
“We had questions for which our parents had no answers. Perhaps there were no answers. We didn’t talk to God. We talked to Judy Blume.” –from “We Decided.”
“Was I your muse? Did I amuse? My feet were never still; my toes tapped out the rhythms of dirty jazz, all those barracks dances and the juke joints we’d stop at, later and drunker.”–from “Lights Out: Zelda at Highland Hospital.”
“A Key Into the Language of the Dead”
Superstition Review, Issue 11
The worst thing about being alive: getting hit. The way flesh gives under the fist. That burnt-metal taste of blood. And crying, though you’d promised yourself not to, not this time, not again.”
Read more at Superstition Review.
“What the Selkies Know”
Atlas and Alice, Issue 16 (2020)
“Some of us slip from our land homes at night and wander, drawn to rivers and seas. Others spend hours with their faces pressed to the fish tank, dreaming like a suburban housewife touring a model home.”
Read more at Atlas and Alice.
“Knock,” Women’s Studies Quarterly
Vol. 48, Nos. 1 & 2, Spring/Summer 2020
“I think of him in black and white. In a postwar world still clearing away its rubble, not quite ready to step into glorious Technicolor. I think of him knockingly, if knockingly is the word I want. … His sharp, questing chin. His foot in your door. All he needs is a moment of your time. All he needs is a chance.”
Purchase a copy through The Feminist Press
Publication Date: 05-12-2020