I have been working on a novel for months . I write a little bit in it here and there but I also keep writing short stories . I enjoy the shorts and would like to start seeing a little bit of trickle income from them . A few have royalties attached to the contracts so it is possible that I might see a stocking stuffer before the end of the year . I have about half of the story already . They want longer work than most but I decided I could add to it . So , I spent quite a bit of time editing and re - writing this piece . After a couple of my beta readers complained about the back and forth nature of my flashbacks I re - organized the story to be linear . I spent a lot of time getting this piece ready . So , the day before it is due , I have edited all I can and it is time to format the piece . Each publisher wants something a little bit different . Some of them go with traditional manuscript formatting , but so far I haven 't seen anyone that sticks to that alone . This one was the furthest from traditional that I have found so far . My wife is tired and heads to bed . I am back on the website re - reading the requirements before hitting send . The rest of my family is asleep . That is the moment , that one moment when I re - read the listing and see … . . I just totally screwed the pooch when it comes to this submission . So I didn 't hit send . I just tucked the story away and decided to start looking for markets for a 11 , 500ish word fantasy . On to a slightly more optimistic note ; I also discovered the Drabblecast last week . This is another podcast that also does one hundred word stories . I have written a few of those , most of them are posted on this site , so I will have to read through their submission policies to see if they accept reprints . If not , I will just be writing new flash pieces in this size range . The other thing I found was , " The Rejected Quarterly " , a magazine for fiction that has received at least five rejections . I have at least three pieces that are near this range . So , I will soon be submitting there as well . Oh well , time to send out some stories and get back to work on the novel . As far as that goes , I just broke 46K words . Wish me luck . I don 't know what makes me so special . In my own opinion I don 't stand out from everyone else . I am working on everything that I want just like everyone else . I struggle and sweat and worry . As far as I can tell there is really only one thing that sets me apart . I am willing to go farther to make myself heard . I am working on a story for submission . The piece is in editing and is currently just a bit short of 12K words . It is also my first true fantasy in the classic sense . I will post more on it as I can . Due to the short nature of this post I have decided to share a longer story . This is one that I intended to submit some more but changed my mind . This is my modern telling of a classic fairy tale . I hope you enjoy it . It was just like every other day that he came here . Dillon 's mother would make him go to playground . She would tell him that he needed fresh air and exercise . Then she would drop him off and leave to go get groceries . After she was gone , that is when everything went bad . The other boys would pick on him . He got punched . Balls would get bounced off of his head . He would even get wedgies . Dillon hated the park . It is always hard when you are shy . It was hard to watch them playing when you didn 't have other kids to play with . It was even harder when the others made fun of you . They called him , " Fatty " and " Lard Ball " . They called him other things that were worse . So when his mother dropped him off Dillon would go to the swings by the mothers and wait . He had tried sitting there the entire time but that didn 't work . Sooner or later the others boys would play close by . Then the ball would bounce off his head . It was hard to move around without anyone noticing but he tried . He was careful . He had to be if he wanted to be left alone . The other problem with going to the playground was that he couldn 't go to the bathroom . The one time he had tried to use the restrooms some older boys had shoved his head into the toilet . He couldn 't tell his mother about it . She would have frowned and shook her head but she wouldn 't have done anything else . He couldn 't have told his father either . He would have told him to stand up for himself . Worse , he might have started trying to teach him to box again . All that ever did was given his dad a chance to hit him without calling it abuse . So he had cleaned up as best he could and then sat crying all night in his room . Dillon 's mom had just driven around the corner . He was looking around to see where he might be able to hide when he saw a new boy . This kid looked like he might be about the same age . It was hard to tell how old Dillon was because of his size . The new boy had the same problem . The new guy was sitting under a tree not too far from the mother 's benches so he had also found a pretty good place . Dillon started walking that direction . He had to get out of the parking lot before anyone really noticed him . The new kid was close to the safer parts so it made sense to go there . The truth however , was that Dillon desperately wanted to see if the new kid would share . His mother had put him on a diet over a year ago but it wasn 't helping . There hadn 't been anything from the store that wasn 't sugar free , fat free and low carb for that year . She had stopped baking and insisted that both Dillon and his father eat more vegetables . When Dillon got close to the swings where he usually started and ended his playground excursion the new kid looked up and smiled . It was a re - assuring thing to see . The other kid didn 't get up and move away , he didn 't hide the bag , a whole bag , of cookies that he had brought with him . He didn 't even glare at Dillon to keep him back . He actually smiled . " Hi . " The other boy replied , wiping crumbs off his hands before extending his hand up towards Dillon , " My name is Harry . What 's yours ? " " No . " Dillon said . He shifted around and sat beside Harry with his back to the tree . " There aren 't very many nice people at this park . You have to move around a little or they come up and start picking on you . " " That sucks . " Harry said . He reached into the bag and pulled out another cookie . It looked like chocolate chip but Dillon was sure he could smell something else to . " How old are you anyway ? " " I just turned ten . " Harry answered . He finished the cookie in about three bites and then reached into the bag again . Dillon was having trouble not looking into the bag to see if there were more . He wanted to ask for one to but he had always been told that it was rude . Harry must have noticed because he picked up the bag and leaned it towards Dillon . " You want one ? My grandma made them . They are chocolate chip and toffee . " " Thanks . " Dillon said . He took a cookie out of the bag and took a small bite . He groaned as he slowly chewed the bite . The first real cookie in almost a year and it was pure heaven . " I am home schooled . " Dillon said , " My mom is my teacher . This park is the only place we ever go where she leaves me alone . There isn 't a vending machine anywhere near by . " Harry turned to look at him for a second before offering him another cookie . " My grandma bakes all the time . " He said , " You can have as many as you want . " Harry laughed before he popped another cookie into his mouth . This continued until the boys had finished the bag . They talked about all sorts of things and before Dillon knew it his mother was there to pick him up . For the first time he hadn 't been picked on . Nobody had hit him with the ball . Today had been a good day to be at the park . The boys had talked about comic books and action figures . Dillon had a lot in common with Harry . It would be nice to see him again and as soon as his mother dropped him off Dillon had started looking for Harry . He didn 't find him in any of the safe spots . He didn 't know if Harry was there and in trouble or if he was going to come to the park at all . Dillon sat down in one of the swings and started slowly turning in little half circles . He wanted to find Harry but didn 't actually know if he was going to come to the park today or not . Dillon stood up and started to head out to look for him . If Harry was in trouble nobody else would help him . He was to the edge of the pea gravel that marked out the safest part of the playground when he heard someone behind him call out his name . He turned around and saw Harry walking up the street . " Because I already know she will say no . " Dillon said . He looked into the empty bag with a sad expression . " She used to cook a lot but when the doctor said that I had high cholesterol she started the diet . My dad has it to and she said she won 't buy anymore junk food . " " But have you ever asked her to bake you cookies ? " Harry asked . " If she hasn 't said no then you don 't know if she will or not . " Dillon looked at him for a minute before he nodded and said . " I wish I could just get your grandma to make me some cookies . Those are great . " " Those are nothing . " Harry said . He had a big smile as he proudly told Dillon all about the dinners that his grandmother made . The food sounded fantastic after last night 's veggie pizza . But the thing that really made Dillon 's mouth water was the cake . Harry nodded and sat there quietly for a minute . He frowned when Dillon 's mom pulled into the parking lot and honked . He looked at Dillon as he stood up and said , " I don 't live that far away from here . If you wanted to we could probably go to my house for a little while and come back before your mom came to pick you up . " Walking around the playground alone was bad . When he had been with Harry the last two times Dillon hadn 't been picked on at all . Now though , he was alone . In less than twenty minutes he had been called at least a dozen names and hit in the back with a basketball and in the face with a football . He was standing in front of the bathrooms trying to decide if he should risk going in to check for Harry when Dillon heard someone call his name . Harry was waving at him as he walked between the football and soccer fields . Dillon nearly jumped for joy as he hurried away from the restrooms . When they met Dillon was a little out of breath but he was smiling from ear to ear . " I was worried that something had happened to you . " He told Harry as they both turned to head to the swings . " Nope , I was just busy helping Grandma . " Harry said . " She just got back from the store and I helped carry in the groceries . I put them up while she started baking . " " So come over and get a piece . It should be done by the time we get there . " Harry said . He didn 't stop walking when he got to the swings but kept going towards the gate to the park . They walked a few blocks before coming to a little house tucked in between two much larger buildings . It had a white picket fence and flowers growing along the walk . Dillon thought it looked odd between the big brick homes but he could smell food from the sidewalk . Harry 's bike was leaning against the garage and an old toy truck was lying underneath the swing on the porch . Standing beside a big table was a little old woman who was nearly as round as she was tall . Her hair was so gray that it looked blue and she had thick glasses . " Hello dear . " She said as Harry walked around the table and gave her a hug . " Who is your friend . " Dillon talked as he watched her carve a big slice of the cheese cake . Harry 's grandmother then poured a glass of milk to go with it and sat them down in front of him . She smiled at him and pinched his cheek a little before turning back and cutting another piece of cheese cake for Harry . The boys sat there eating . Dillon didn 't say much as he inhaled the food . Harry 's grandmother just watched as they ate . " Now don 't forget to drink your milk Dillon . " She said when he used his finger to wipe up the last smear of the chocolate syrup from the plate . Dillon didn 't have to be told twice . He tipped the glass back and emptied it . He smiled at Harry as he looked at his empty plate . " Don 't you like milk ? " He asked . " I put something in the milk so that you will sleep . " She said . She then walked over to the table and picked up a big cleaver . " That way you won 't run away or scream . " Dillon looked at Harry . He opened his mouth to say something but couldn 't get the words to come out . His mouth and eyes both opened and closed a few times before settling down . Dillon slumped down in his chair and slid to the floor . " You had better hurry up and go find another one . " She said without looking away from Dillon . " If you had taken any longer in bringing him to me I would have been forced to put your sister in the pot . After all these years , I would think you would be better at this . I love haiku and all of the related forms of the 17 syllable poem . It is so much fun to write . Sijo is a Korean form that has three lines of 14 to 15 syllables . I learned about it by following the link that was included from the description of the anthology . I am glad I did , this is a great way to put an idea on paper . Poetry , for me , is a fun way to approach a single idea . I am by no means a scholar of it and I couldn 't identify very many of the forms . However , I would say that writing poetry is a very good exercise . Following rules about rhyming , structure or syllable counts forces you to dig into your vocabulary and search for the way to say what you want . It forces you to find the way to fit an idea into a different container than what you might have tried otherwise . Of course , if I would just stop writing other things that would be easier . How in the world do other authors write on story of novel length without stopping to write half a dozen others along the way ? I just don 't get it . I have also recently heard a number of stories that were from the older British era of fiction . Think of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle for the voice and style . I love the way it sounds , so I am going to play with that a bit today . I hope you like it . Yet , I must confess that I was indeed unsure as to the events of the past few hours . I could of course , clearly remember the events of the past few days . They were far clearer than was usual due to the effort with which I had been expending . I had been far more mentally active these past few days than was my want but desperate times do indeed call for desperate measures . Over the last few days , I had been pouring over a tome of particularly odd vintage that had come into my possession due to the purchase of a lot from an estate sale . The sealed foot locker had been found in excellent condition and after I had drilled the locks I discovered a menagerie of odd items that all seemed to possess an arcane quality . Had my rational not exerted itself I might well have believed that I had purchased the working tools of a magician . The old books were in a variety of languages , and not being a scholar of such things I could not make out even the titles . Jars of powder and dried plants along with a mortar and pestle further convinced me of the nature of the contents . It was the journal , written in a neat block print that I began to peruse . In reading about the practices of those witches and wizards who now came into the public view , I learned that it is common practice to keep a journal of your activities and that was exactly what I had been reading . The writer signed his documents as Frater Mors . I consulted with a college of mine who I knew to have studied Latin in his school days translated this for me as " Brother Death " . Reading his journal was an amazing flight of fancy . The things he claimed to have done bordered so far into the ridiculous that I dare not tell you of them , but must instead insist that you read them yourself . You will have found the journal on my night stand . I was so taken by the good brother 's stories of using a talking board that I procured one and tried it myself . While I assumed that there would be no result , I also inquired with the gypsy owner of the establishment where I procured the item as to its proper use . I was informed that they were not to be used alone because only a group provided enough of the psychic power needed to allow a spirit to communicate through the board . The good brother had not done this , so when I arrived home I endeavored to use the board in the same fashion that he had , while alone . Of course , nothing happened , so I put the board away and wrote it off . But that night , I was overcome with the idea of gathering a group together to attempt to use the board . Last night , I succeeded in that endeavor . I invited a number of friends over from the pub and we talked and joked until well into the evening . I mentioned the board , and my interest in working with it . One young lady , a lovely girl by the name of Renee insisted that it was a foul pursuit and refused to have any part of it . When the others agreed to give it a go , Renee left our assemblage . That should have happened around Ten O ' clock in the evening . No Officer , I cannot explain the blood in my home or on my clothing . I have no idea where my shoes are if not under the edge of my bed . How bloody footprints were found on the ceilings is a mystery as is the condition of any of my guests . I do suppose that it wouldn 't be too much trouble or inconvenience to ask that I be able to wash myself in a basin . I am quite sticky from all of this and would greatly appreciate the opportunity . Especially considering the assumption that I will be in your company until this whole misunderstanding is cleared up . This is a zombie story . As soon as you hear that , you know some of what to expect ; zombie killing , zombie killings and people doing stupid things . She does not disappoint in these areas . However , she has also done a good job of giving each character their own story . While some of the characters earn you dislike , it is easy to see how each is the hero of their own story . The cast is relate - able and interesting . I was surprised by the level of cruelty that she wrote into the doctor . This story is a clear case where the worst monster in the book is not the monster you expected . She also gave some wonderfully sickening and disgusting descriptions of what was going on . If you have a weak stomach , you might not want to eat while reading . I only really had one complaint . The people in the book actually let the zombies loose as a diversion . I just couldn 't suspend my disbelief that far . Nobody , and I really mean nobody , would do that . I just can 't get behind that . I am not a fan of the five - star system . It doesn 't give enough variation . I would say this book is a little more than a seven out of ten . Well done and enjoyable . Each time another of the group had been taken away , there was crying . Each time a person had been drug through the door , there had been yelling . Each time the door closed , there were panicked noises that were muffled after the door was closed . Then , there was screaming . Screams that cut off suddenly and then came back louder . Screams that put the women in the creepy movie matinee to shame . Screams that made you want to piss yourself . I didn 't know about the others , I didn 't care to ask , but I had no idea how I had ended up here . The last thing I remember was walking through the park on my way home from the gym . It was a blustery day , the wind whipping around me as I drug my tired limbs along towards home . It had been free weights day and I remember thinking that I could actually see some improvement . The door opened , light streaming into the room and I looked up at whoever it was that kept dragging us out . There was a little light leaking in through gaps in the walls . It looked a lot like the inside of a barn in one of those slasher horror movies , streaks of gold in the gloom that just gave you enough to see who was trapped with you . Until the door opened and the monster came in , just like our monster just had . I am guessing it was a man because I doubt most women are strong enough to grab and drag a fat man out of the room the way that this person just did . He , because I think it is , shuffled in , feet moving through the straw that was scattered on the floor with a sound that reminded you of a kid walking through leaves after their dad finished raking the yard , and grabbed a fat man wearing a Jets coat . The man began cursing and trashing , though his hands and feet were still as tied as they had been while the last half - dozen people were drug out , trying to free himself so that he might not be drug to the screaming . Our captor was dressed like a scare crow , with a pumpkin on his head and a big hat on top of that . The pumpkin was painted like an old - fashioned jack - o - lantern . There were triangles for the eyes and nose and a wide , serrated grin that was white against the orange of the pumpkin . He even wore bib overalls . This is what continued for a few more hours . I was tossed against the back wall and was therefore the furthest from the door . Tall , thin and orange came back in again and again . He grabbed whoever was closest each time and each time , there would be more yelling and then more screaming . Finally , it was down to just two of us . The black woman and I were staring at the door , knowing that it should open at any moment . She was crying and when the door opened , I started crying to . I waited to be grabbed but when I heard dragging I looked up to see that he had lifted her up . The poor woman 's eyes were closed and she just kept crying . I didn 't hear her yell or curse . She didn 't beg or anything , she just cried . I was quiet when he came back for me . I knew that the rest of the yelling , begging and screaming didn 't help , so I tried to be quiet . I closed my eyes , squeezing them tight , but once I was in the air I couldn 't help it , I opened them . I was facing my handler 's chest and I could see the stem of the pumpkin facing down . As I looked closer I realized that there were leaves around it as well , but that I couldn 't see the guy 's neck . I then looked down at my legs , where he had hands wearing green gloves holding on to me . The more I looked , the more I was sure that those were rolled leaves instead of gloves . I turned my head to look around the room . I could see two others walking around . They had pumpkins in place of a head but there were no faces painted on them . No clothing covered the fact that their bodies were just twisted vines . I had been captured by the main ingredient in my favorite dessert . When he turned toward the table , I could see the blood all over it . There was a bucket on the end that was filled to over - flowing with what looked like a mixture of dark and light rope . Across from the table , the other people were all propped up . Each one had their arms in the air and an eerie glow escaping from inside their heads . I could see the bright spot of a candle flame behind the fat mans missing nose . The others just glowed the same yellow and red that a child 's face does when they hold a flashlight under their face . I could see the second candle that had been placed inside each stomach . The clothes cut open and a hollow place carved into the once human jack - o - lanterns . A plate had been shoved in to give the candle a flat place to sit .