IGGY & Litro have announced their annual contest for 13 – 18 year old writers , with a cash prize of £2000 for the winning entry. The theme of this year’s competition is Myths and Legends.
You can read all the entry details here.
Good luck!
Genres: Science Fiction
Part 1
What are they doing?
Cy De Gerch leaned forward and peered at the scene on one of her repeater screens. A few minutes ago, there in the middle of a New Hell desert viewed from a high-orbit drone, the Dhooj’s vehicle had suddenly stopped – skidding on its six balloon tyres, spraying red dust. Yet none of its crew, clad in their vacuum suits and transparent helmets, had so far emerged.
Which was odd, and Cy knew it. Ever since their landing on New Hell two days ago the Dhooj had been trundling along, setting up experiments, making observations, reporting excitedly back to their home world thirty million kilometres sunward like the pioneers and explorers they were. Energetic creatures, the Dhooj, not ones to just sit. Didn’t they have geological samples to take? Water probes to drill? Low g sports to play?
On impulse Cy shivered and pulled her grey tunic closer about. There was a desert wind blowing down there. She could feel it even from so distant an orbit. The scene was too much like home, too much like Mars. And well she knew that Martian winds blew forever cold.
Hello everyone! A brief update about submissions. Responses are in progress and I’ll post here again when we’re caught up.
In addition, please take a quick peek at the word counts the next time you submit a story. We’ve normalized our categories with the SWFA word counts. In brief, this means we’re no longer accepting stories over 7500 words as they fall in the novella range. We’ve done this to make sure that all our weekly episodes continue to be eligible in various industry awards under the flash and short story categories. If you have any questions, please get in touch.
As always, thanks for listening!
Genres: Fantasy, Science Fiction, Steampunk
She is too small, Kitkun thinks, the first time she enters his tiny workshop tucked between the market’s stalls. Too young to have left the nest alone. Yet, despite the years of waiting, he still feels a prick of hope as she steps out of the city’s unrelenting smog and over the threshold, thinking, perhaps she will be the one. Perhaps she will ask.
“Are you lost, child?” says Kitkun, setting down his tools. She is dressed in cream colored silk – a foolish color to wear in this city – but her shoes are covered in grime.
She nods. “I thought I saw a raven,” she says.
“And did you?”
Her face crumples with disappointment. “Nanny couldn’t keep up. She doesn’t believe birds exists.”
Kitkun smiles. Customers do not randomly wander into his shop. “Well, I do,” he says, pointing at the display next to her, “See?”
(Continue Reading…)
Genres: Science Fiction
Cale twirled his drumstick morosely as the last of the reverb from the guitars died out.
“We vent,” he finally declared, tossing the sticks down onto the snare with a clatter. He leaned against the back of the couch and crossed his arms over his ample stomach.
“No, come on,” Bendrick replied, turning toward the drums as he brushed the hair from his eyes. “That was good, we’re definitely getting better. We’ve just gotta-” He stumbled as he stepped on the cord and pulled the plug sharply from his guitar. “We’ve gotta keep practicing.”
“What for, Benny?” asked Jillan, plopping down on an amp and resting her head in her hands. “It’s not like we can ever sign a big record contract, or go on a world tour. There aren’t any opportunities on the ship, no matter how good we are.”
“Don’t you see?” Bendrick said, pulling the guitar strap over his head and setting it down. He pointed at the crude letters formed from strips of electrical tape on the base drum. “We’re The Middle Rages! It’s not about the money or the fame, it’s about the rage, the emotion. It’s about the art.”
(Continue Reading…)
Genres: Horror
I am writing this under an appreciable mental strain, since by tonight I shall be no more. Penniless, and at the end of my supply of the drug which alone, makes life endurable, I can bear the torture no longer; and shall cast myself from this garret window into the squalid street below. Do not think from my slavery to morphine that I am a weakling or a degenerate. When you have read these hastily scrawled pages you may guess, though never fully realise, why it is that I must have forgetfulness or death.
(Continue Reading…)
Genres: Horror
I have eyes but do not see.
I have ears but do not hear
I have a nose but I cannot smell
My mouth wears a stitched frown…
And if I get close, I suck bones out your crown.
What am I?
A gaggle of teens stalk sugar on All Hallow’s Eve. It’s a beaut of a night and we’ve got ourselves a whole crowd of ghouls. Why there’s Frankenstein and Vampire, Werewolf and Gorilla, also Kitty, Witch, and Dorothy carrying a live Toto in a basket. Toto yaps and all the kids laugh. They’re high on sugar as the moon is full. Werewolf howls, and the girls giggle. They’re carrying pillowcases overflowing with candy, pitching rocks at Mr. and Mrs. Vandyke’s cornfield. The cornstalks are picked clean as bones. And the dry, leathery sound they make when the wind blows is eerie enough to scare the nuts off a squirrel.
Genres: Horror, Science Fiction
We began to burn the books, and Dad tried to kill himself.
Almost all of the extra furniture had been burned over the previous month, leaving the upholstery and padding from sofas and chairs heaped on the big bed in what used to be just Mom’s and Dad’s room. Me and Taylor stayed in that room all day since heat rises, and we wore so many layers of clothes that it was hard to go up and down the stairs. Anyway, with so many of the walls and rooms empty, the whole house echoed so their voices really carried from the downstairs library.
“I can’t do this, Vick, I can’t. Burning books, like Nazis?”
“We are not burning books like Nazis. We’re burning books to keep our kids warm and alive. I’ve torn apart everything else first. You know that. The books are last.”
Dad made some sort of weird moan like a whale from an old nature show. “I know, I know. But if we make it out of here, what sort of world will it be without books? What sort of civilization–”
“Tom. Listen to yourself. We’re one family. There are other survivors out there. You’ve said yourself that a nuclear winter isn’t supposed to last long. It’s a drop in temperature, nothing permanent.”
“I thought it would be over by now. The smoke and debris should have cleared the atmosphere.”
(Continue Reading…)
It’s October, everyone. That means it’s time for our annual Halloween special. This year we’ve gone for a theme, presenting a collection of horror stories about endings, both figurative and literal. The dead and the undying. Spirits sea monsters. Apocalypses writ both large and small. Welcome to The End of the World.
The shutters rattled in their hinges as rainy fists banged against the wood. Katina rubbed her knuckles. They made a creaky noise. “Old bones, what did you expect?” she chuckled. “Old bodies are as good as coffins.”
She stirred the pumpkin soup boiling on the stove and tasted her wooden spoon. “Almost ready.”
The wind pounded on the door with all his might and fury. It almost sounded like knocking.
“Are you set on tearing my house down?” she asked him.
Then, another knock. And another.
Katina looked at the door, her left eyebrow raised.
“Is someone there?” she asked.
Genres: Comedy, Science Fiction
You’re listening to Little Wonders, our thematic flash fiction collections. This episode we bring you A Little Laughter.
Special thanks to Kevin McCloud and the Free Sounds Project for providing music and special effects.
Fog fades away. Darkness lifts. I struggle to find my feet as vision returns. The room is empty. Signs of a struggle.
She’s gone!
Off and running with no control of my body as I fly on a path towards revenge. An unseen hand guides my movements. Of course I know who took her. Who else could it be but Ryoku? Damn him! If only we had left when he first made his threats…but this is no time to dwell on the past.
Rushing forward, unable to turn back.
Through flat, muted ears, I can almost hear the timer that ticks down the seconds we have left.
My steel jaw clenches as I will the fury down into my tightened fists. Rage funnels through them as I pummel wave after wave of Ryoku’s goons, henchmen, thugs, and anyone else foolish enough to stand in my way.
Down the stairs.
Through the alley.
Over the barbed wire fence, ducking a pair of rabid junkyard dogs.
Forward still, rushing onward towards my love, and vengeance.
Genres: Fantasy, Modern Fantasy
Welcome, everyone, to our Banned Book Week special. Banned Book Week is an annual event every September that aims to raise awareness about censorship and to celebrate the right to read. Many local libraries and bookshops hold events to highlight and discuss the social, political and legal issues around literature. You can find out a lot more at the Banned Book Week website, or at another of my personal favorite websites, the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, where you’ll find lots of resources including free posters for holding your own event.
To celebrate, Cast of Wonders is proud to present Things We Leave Behind, written and narrated by one of our veteran authors, Alex Shvartsman. You’ve heard Alex’s work previously in The Field Trip; You Bet, and our short Christmas tale Nuclear Family. Excellent stories, each.
Some of my earliest memories are of books. They were everywhere in our apartment back in the Soviet Union; shelves stacked as high as the ceiling in the corridor and the living room, piles of them encroaching upon every nook and available surface like some benign infestation.
Strangers came by often, sometimes several times a day, and browsed the shelves. They spoke to my father, always quietly, as though they were in a library. Cash and books exchanged hands in either direction but there was little haggling, both parties reluctant to insult the books by arguing over their price like they might with a sack of potatoes.
I learned to read at the age of three. My parents showed off this talent proudly, bribing me with candy to sound out long, complicated words like “automobile” and “refrigerator” in front of their friends. I found it more difficult to pronounce the harsh Russian R’s than to put together the words written in Cyrillic block letters on scraps of paper.
Genres: Science Fiction
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this.” Valeria spoke in hushed tones, though no one other than Nolan was within earshot.
“Because I can.” Nolan’s fingers worked against the cuff on his wrist with a slim metal splinter.
“Nolan, please can we talk about this? Just wait a moment.” She glanced around the park. Beyond the walkway, short trees basked in the artificial light of the dome.
The cuff was a gift from the Overseers, one of many they had bestowed upon humanity since the Fail. It provided everyone with instructions and guidance. Her fingers nervously traced the intricate filigree of her own cuff. She remembered her tenth birthday, when she’d been blessed with the title of Wife and Nolan’s name had appeared in delicate scroll.