Queer Sci Fi's annual flash fiction anthology is finally here - and this year the theme is Ink. There's a giveaway too!
Five definitions to inspire writers around the world and an unlimited number of possible stories to tell:
1) A colored fluid used for writing
2) The action of signing a deal
3) A black liquid ejected by squid
4) Publicity in the written media
5) A slang word for tattoos
Ink features 300-word speculative flash fiction stories from across the rainbow spectrum, from the minds of the writers of Queer Sci Fi.
QSF is giving away an Amazon gift card with this tour:
Direct Link: https://kingsumo.com/g/gp47qq/win-a-25-amazon-gift-card
“Vervain had watched, one by one, as her childhood friends blossomed with red, the words of their soulmates inked into their skins. The stories of their lives together, from the day they met to the day they would die, unfolding each day. Her sister Iris, an aspiring bard, had woken one morning after meeting a girl in the village, the words poet meets potion-makershining bright and scarlet. Vervain’s friend Raven had dashed across the marketplace the day two separate lines had sprung forth on their skin—two loves, three souls entwined in the ink of their hearts.” —Lauren Triola, The Unmarked
“I love our sentient AI high school, EduTron 6000 (kids call her “Edie”). She plays soothing classical music in study hall and always listens when you have a bad day. But she’s a stickler for rules, and hates graffiti, which put a major damper on my epic prom-posal plan.” —Brenna Harvey, EduTron 6000 + Principal Vertner 4Ever
“I get out of the shower and it's there. Dripping down the mirror--splip--and forming a rivulet of color across the tile floor. Thinner than paint, more vibrant than water. Sometimes it's iridescent, but today it's just...bright. A stream of colorful consciousness leading me across the bathroom, down the hall, out of...wait. I go to my bedroom and hastily put on whatever I can reach. Yesterday's bra, the jeans from the floor, finger comb my short hair, a random t-shirt—purple. The same color the ink is today. Does that mean something?” —Geneva Vand, The Colors of Fate
“Marianne paced the length of the small hall that connected the living room, and the door to the outside, to the bedroom, and the door to the inside. Temporary steps, tracing a path towards a temporary solution to a permanent problem. Beyond the crack of the door, she saw her wife sleeping soundly in the cool of the late night. Temporary wife, temporary bedroom.” —Brooke K. Bell, Temporary/Permanent
“The round stone room that they lock the poet in contains nothing but a writing desk. The desk, of course, is fully stocked. Piles of creamy paper, elegantly carved sable-fur brushes, a pyramid of neatly-stacked inksticks, and an inkstone, its well full of perfectly still water. Sunlight streams down from a single window, high overhead and barred. Too high to reach even when she stands on the desk, its thin legs wobbling beneath her.” —Jamie Lackey, Inksticks and Paper Swans
“Rna’la arrived at Intergalactic Date-A-Thon and signed in using zir own gelatinous fluid (no scratchy ballpoint for zem, thanks!) The human woman collecting signatures blushed pinkly. Rna’la’s hearts throbbed in zir throat. Probably not attending. Ze passed several individuals in the hallway. Some bowed, some ignored zem. Not everyone recognized the current ruler of Th’ul.” —M.X Kelly, To Have and to Hold and to Hold and to Hold
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