I won't be forgetting last Thursday anytime soon. Receiving more than one rejection letter in a day, that's par for the course. My record is three (the Monday after New Year's). But to receive more than one acceptance in a single day? Forget about it!
Yet that's exactly what happened last week. I sold my short story "Fool's Gold" (another Coyote Cal tale of the weird, wild west) to Pulp Empire for their August issue and my flash "For a Handful of Crowns" to Linger Fiction. You can read it here, if you dare.
It's a weird one, my first and only stab (so far) at the grotesque bizarro fiction genre. Originally intended for The Pedestal Magazine last spring, this little story was rejected eight times before finally finding itself a good home. Dark Recesses and Necrotic Tisssue came close to accepting it, but Linger Fiction sealed the deal.
This one may alienate a few readers; taken at face value, it's both disturbing and disgusting. I could explain the extended metaphor I was going for, but I'd rather see what you all have to say. Comments and conjecture welcome!