Tag: short story

  • Fridays 5 with Thomas Monteleone

    Fridays 5 with Thomas Monteleone

    I’ve decided to mix Fridays up a little bit. Some weeks it will be an interview with one of my characters, while other weeks it will be Fridays 5. I’m hoping to add some new blood to this weekly feature. If you write in the speculative fiction genres, and would like to participate, drop me a line at rschiver@gmail.com

    Q When did you first consider yourself a writer?

    A When I was 12 years old and spent a summer’s worth of lawn cutting money on a Royal manual typewriter.

    Q What is the hardest part of writing?

    A Forcing yourself to do it every day… even on the days when you have other stuff you must do or don’t feel the urging of the muse.

    Q How did you feel upon publication of your first completed project?

    A When I saw my name on the cover of the March 1973 issue of Amazing Science Fiction magazine, I realized I had accomplished something that 99% of the population would never do. And most likely would never think to do.

    Q In addition to writing, what else are you passionate about?

    A I am passionate about my family. Son, daughter, grandkids, and wife are simply everything to me. (. . . And bourbon isn’t so bad either. )

    Q If you could ask any author, living or dead, one question, what would it be?

    A I’d ask Ayn Rand why she allowed John Galt to speak for more than 100 pages.

    Thomas F. Monteleone is an American science fiction author and horror fiction author. His first novel, Seeds of Change was the lead-off title in the critically unsuccessful Laser Books line of science fiction titles, but he went on to become a popular writer of supernatural thrillers.

    A professional writer since 1972, and 4-time winner of the Bram Stoker Award. He has published more than 100 short stories in numerous magazines and anthologies. His stories have been nominated for many awards and have appeared in many best-of-the-year compilations. Click on his image above to be taken to his amazon author page.

    In 2023 Thomas was banned from the Horror Writer’s Association for his conservative beliefs. An organization he had been a member of since its inception. As a result he was cancelled and his publishing company Borderlands Press fell upon hard times. A GiveSendGo fund has been set up to help the 79 year old. If you’re inclined to help out follow the link below, and thank you. No one should have their livelihood taken from them because of their beliefs!

    GiveSendGo

  • Weekly Writing Challenge – I Am. 02/11/2026

    Weekly Writing Challenge – I Am. 02/11/2026

    The final segment:

    Brodie sat in a narrow chair built more for function than comfort. For reasons beyond his understanding Doctor Wilberman had asked him to stop by his office. He was sure it had something to do with the clone who had recently confronted him in the men’s room.

    “He didn’t say anything at all?” Doctor Wilberman asked as he worked to keep his pipe lit.

    “They can’t speak,” Brodie assured him, sticking to the proper narrative, it was safer that way, for him at least. He recognized the clone as the assistant manager of a co-op his grandfather used to take him to when he was a small child. Reminding him of a man who went missing when he was a teen. Several years before the restrictions on cloning were lifted.

    “True,” Doctor Wilberman said as he exhaled a cloud of smoke and flipped through the file lying open on his desk. “There are some who believe a bit of the past remains with the cells we use to create these clones. Are you sure he didn’t say anything?” Doctor Wilberman said as he continued flipping through the pages of the report, “according to the foreman’s report the clone in question tried to speak to him in the mess hall.”

    Brodie shrugged, his fingers working along the edge of his hat, hidden below the lip of the doctor’s desk. It wouldn’t do for them to see how nervous he was. While cloning was now legal, it hadn’t always been that way, and he remembered a time when several of the larger corporate farms operated outside the law in that regard.

    “He didn’t say a word sir, he tried to, but nothing came out.”

    “You’re certain?”

    “Absolutely.”

    “Did you recognize him?”

    “Why would I recognize him? Aren’t all the clones taken from the same cell source?”

    “They are, but every so often a mutation occurs, such as it did here.”

    “If you say so sir, you know more about this stuff than I do.”

    “Very well then,” Doctor Wilberman said as he closed the file, “if there’s anything else I need to ask I’ll be in touch.”

    “Can I go now?” Brodie said as he moved to get up, he couldn’t wait to get out from under the doctor’s scrutiny. If he did admit to recognizing this particular batch of clones what would happen to him?

    “You’re free to go,” the doctor said and Brodie got out of the office as fast as he could. He was halfway across the compound when he saw the latest batch coming in from the fields. Each one of them reminded him of that manager who had gone missing nearly thirty years before and he wondered how he was going to keep his mouth shut while working around them every day. On the other hand who could he say anything to? Cloning was now legal, and while it might have been safe to reveal what he knew, there were no absolutes. He’d felt a connection with the clone, a recognition of his plight, and as he watched them moved across the compound he worried another one might try to make contact with him.

    This completes the story I AM. Join me next week when I begin a new short story. I’ve been itching to go a lot darker than the past stories so we’ll have to wait and see what I come up with. The letter will be J, and that opens up so many possibilities.

  • Why Sharing Your Writing Dream Matters

    Why Sharing Your Writing Dream Matters

    Do you share your writing with those close to you?

    Every writer begins with a dream—whether it’s finishing a novel, publishing a memoir, or simply expressing creativity through words. Yet, sharing this dream with friends and family can feel daunting. The act of revealing your writing ambitions is often the first step toward claiming your identity as a writer, but it’s also a leap into vulnerability.

    My wife supports my dream, but she does not read in the genre I work and flatly refuses to read anything I’ve written. I do have several friends who have read my work and are always asking what’s coming next.

    Why Share Your Dream?

    Sharing your writing dream is transformative. It turns a private aspiration into a public commitment, helping you grow both as a writer and as a person. When you allow others to read your work, you move beyond imposter syndrome and embrace your creative potential. Supportive feedback can boost your confidence, while constructive criticism sharpens your skills. Kerstin at Write You Journey

    Navigating Support and Skepticism

    Not everyone will understand your passion. Some friends or family may be unsupportive, dismissive, or simply indifferent. Remember, their reactions often reflect their own insecurities, not your worth as a writer. Setting boundaries and communicating your feelings can help manage expectations. If support is lacking, seek encouragement from writing groups or online communities, where fellow writers understand your journey. Lisa Fellinger at Live Write Thrive

    Building Accountability

    Announcing your goals to loved ones creates accountability. Whether you share updates on social media, join a writing group, or simply tell a trusted friend, publicizing your intentions makes you more likely to follow through. Allowing you to celebrate your milestones together, such as finishing a chapter, submitting a story, or receiving feedback. These moments reinforce your commitment and remind you that progress is worth celebrating.

    Embracing the Journey

    Sharing your writing dream is not just about seeking validation, it’s about inviting others into your creative world. Be open to feedback but protect your vision. Surround yourself with those who encourage you, and don’t be discouraged by those who don’t. Ultimately, your writing journey is yours to shape but sharing it can make the path brighter and more rewarding.

    Listed below are several writing communities, stop by and check them out.

    • Reedsy Discord: A supportive, free community for writers of all genres, offering writing prompts, flash fiction contests, and peer feedback.
      Absolute Write Water Cooler: One of the largest and most active forums, covering every genre, freelance writing, publishing, and critique.
      Critique Circle: Focused on in-depth feedback and critiques, with free and paid options.
      Writers.com: Offers regular prompts, Zoom sessions, workshops, and an online space for sharing work.
      Scribophile: A large, award-winning group for manuscript feedback, beta readers, and writing forums.
      WritersCafe.org: Post your work, get reviews, join contests, and connect with other writers.
      Shut Up & Write!: Global, free community focused on accountability and writing sessions—both online and in-person.
      She Writes: A large community for women writers, offering articles, tips, and forums.
      The Next Big Writer: For writers seeking critiques and advice from published authors.

    This is far from an exhaustive list of the groups out there. If you’d like to share those I’ve missed leave a comment below.

  • Weekly Writing Challenge 02/04/2026 I Am.

    Weekly Writing Challenge 02/04/2026 I Am.

    Gus backed away from the three men, then turned and fled towards the only building that had any color in his featureless world.

    “He’s got a gun, get him.” He heard the shouts behind him as he fled across the open ground. A farmhand appeared at the door before him, his relaxed features giving way to sudden surprise when he found himself staring down the muzzle of the pistol as Gus pushed past him into the interior of the building.

    He stopped just inside the door, his wavy reflection stretched out at his feet in the surface of the highly polished floor. A door stood to his right and as approaching footsteps came from around the bend in the hallway before him, trapped between them and the pounding footsteps that were fast approaching behind him, he slipped into the room.

    Beyond the door, on his right, stood a row of stalls. Gray walls wrapped around toilets to afford the user a degree of privacy. Opposite the stalls was a row of white porcelain sinks and above each was a mirror.

    Gus was drawn to the mirror, having never seen himself as much as he could recall, the sound of movement in one of the stalls interrupted him and he spun around with the pistol leveled at the door as a farmhand emerged from within the stall. It was the one he recognized as Brodie and he stepped towards him. His hands spread in a questioning manner as Brodie backed away.

    Gus grunted, unable to make any other sound, his hand once more going to the puckered wound on his neck, he could feel the stitches with his fingers.

    “Don’t hurt me, please,” Brodie said as he backed away.

    From the corner of his eye Gus caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror to his right as Brodie backed towards the door. It drew him like a moth to a flame and with Brodie forgotten he spun around to look at himself in the mirror. What he saw gazing back at him was the same face he’d seen upon his arrival.

    Short sandy hair crowning a face that formed a near perfect circle with wide spaced eyes, and a pug nose above a thin mouth.

    No!

    It couldn’t be, it wasn’t possible, he wasn’t one of them. He had a wife, kids, a home. He had been the assistant manager of a farmers co-op. His finger went to his throat, he fel that puckered wound, the stitches protruding from his flesh. But when he looked in the mirror all he saw was the unblemished skin of his neck.

    No!

    A commotion at the door drew his attention and he turned to confront several farmhands pushing their way through the door with weapons aimed in his direction. He lifted the pistol and aimed the shaking muzzle at them. Bullets ripped through tender flesh, spinning him around and he fell face first towards the floor, his last thoughts clinging to the notion that it had all been a terrible mistake.

    To be continued!

  • A Conversation with Myself

    A Conversation with Myself

    An interview with Sheriff Paul Odenton.

    Sheriff Paul Odenton appeared as a supporting character in Cursed, which I realize now I should have titled. The Curse of Porter Mines.

    1. Sheriff Odenton, you’ve served your community for decades. What first inspired you to pursue a career in law enforcement, and how has your perspective on the job changed over the years?

    When I was a young man, I believed in the idea of justice, of right and wrong being clear as day. My father always said someone had to stand up and do the hard things, and I suppose I took that to heart. Over the years, though, I’ve learned that the world isn’t so black and white. There’s a lot of gray and sometimes doing the right thing means making choices that haunt you long after the paperwork’s filed.

    2. The disappearances of children in Porter Mines have haunted your career. How do you cope with the emotional toll of unsolved cases, especially those involving the most vulnerable members of your community?

    You never really cope, not fully. Those faces stay with you. You see them in your dreams, and you hear their parents’ voices every time the phone rings. I try to remind myself that I did everything I could, but the truth is, you always wonder if you missed something. I lean on my wife, Maggie, and the folks I trust. Sometimes, all you can do is keep going and hope you make a difference the next time.

    3. Throughout the investigation, you’re confronted with both rational explanations and local legends, such as the Witch of Porter Mines. How do you balance skepticism with the need to respect the fears and beliefs of the townspeople?

    I was trained to look for evidence, to trust what I can see and prove. But in a place like Porter Mines, legends are as real as the ground we walk on. Folks need something to explain the unexplainable. I try to respect that, even if I don’t always believe it myself. Sometimes, listening to their fears is as important as chasing down leads.

    4. The events in Porter Mines often put you at odds with political pressures and public scrutiny. How do you maintain your integrity and focus on justice when facing criticism from both the community and local government?

    It’s not easy. There’s always someone looking over your shoulder, second-guessing your decisions. I remind myself why I took this job in the first place, to protect people, not to win popularity contests. I do my best to be honest, even when the truth is ugly, and I try to treat everyone fairly, no matter who’s watching.

    5. In your view, what role does the past, both personal and communal, play in shaping the present dangers and fears in Porter Mines?

    The past never really leaves us. In Porter Mines, old wounds fester, and stories get passed down like family heirlooms. Sometimes, the things we don’t talk about, like secrets and regrets are what hurt us most. I’ve seen how history repeats itself when we don’t face it head-on. That’s true for families, and it’s true for towns.

    6. You’ve witnessed the impact of trauma on families, including your own. What advice would you give to others in law enforcement about supporting victims and their loved ones through tragedy?

    Listen. Don’t just go through the motions, really listen. People need to know you care that you’re not just another badge. Be patient, and don’t make promises you can’t keep. Sometimes, all you can offer is your presence and your willingness to help them carry the weight, even if only for a little while.

    7. Now that the case has reached its conclusion, what lessons do you hope the community, and perhaps future generations of law enforcement, will take from your experiences in Porter Mines?

    I hope folks remember that evil isn’t always a stranger in the night, it can be the things we ignore, the pain we bury, or the anger we allow to fester. For those who come after me, I’d say. Never stop asking questions, never stop caring, and never forget that every case is someone’s whole world. Sometimes, the only thing standing between hope and despair is the person willing to keep searching for the truth.

    Sheriff Odenton is a persistent old man who continues to show up in various other places in my work. He briefly appeared in Parasite, part two of my Shadows of the Past trilogy, and in my works in progress, Bitter Hollow, The Bad Place, and will take the stage again in The Gathering when I get around to writing it. Which will be the last chapter in a trilogy of books that started with Cursed.

    Cursed

    Click on the cover to purchase.

    After the loss of her husband, Susan sought a safe place to rebuild a life for herself and her six-year-old daughter, Christine. Quaint and picturesque, Porter Mines seemed ideal, but Susan soon learns appearances can be deceiving. 

    Like many small towns, the history of Porter Mines was woven in a tapestry of dark secrets. One centered on a witch, who vowed with her dying breath to claim vengeance against those who wronged her. A ghost story rooted in grisly truth. 

    Can Susan protect Christine from a wrath even death couldn’t tame?

    Or will her only child fall prey to the curse of Porter Mines?