I think I wrote a total of maybe 4,000 words of fiction this year across at least twelve different projects—not including this post. Some of those partial stories have potential. Some exist only in Word documents filed away in a folder labeled “Do Not Open – Ever.” None of them were published (or even finished), and that’s just fine, I guess.
Still, it’s that time of year, so here’s a list of my award-eligible work for 2021:
This One Time, on Band Zoom
Who says you can’t learn to play the flute over a slow internet connection while three other people are working in the house? (CW: repetitive squealing; may be disturbing to people with a sensitivity to proper pitch and rhythm)
Between a Rock and a Hard Place
Online school was rough, but at least there were no germs. Navigating in-person school with unvaccinated children is a whole new challenge.
Whose Skirt Is It, Anyway? A Deep Dive into a Working-from-Home Closet
How emptying your closet can fill the hole in your heart, or at least make room for the boxes of office supplies you took from your pre-pandemic cubicle.
The Incredible Shrinking TBR (To Be Read) Pile
A writer rediscovers the joy of [other people’s] written words.
Decanting Mom: A Memorial at Sea
It wasn’t the trip they’d planned, but it was the trip they got—and that probably would have been okay with Mom.
Homework? What Homework?
A fairy tale for the Covid generation.
Twice Vaxxed, Still Masked
An isolated extrovert begins to doubt that faces are real.
After a her first-ever sports injury, a housewife teams up with her inner optimist to smash wooden planks in lieu of the patriarchy.
I Was Dreaming When I Wrote This
And now I don’t remember if it was my own idea or if I cribbed it from the anime the kids are watching in the next room. Blame the typos on them, and file this in “Do Not Open – Ever.”
In Person and On Time: One Parent’s Daily Adventures in the School Drop-off Line
They say it’s all about the journey, not the destination, but sometimes it really is about the destination, kiddo, so get out of the car and don’t forget your flute.
There you have it. I know that some people wrote novels this year, some published story after story, and some won contests. I am thrilled for you! No, really. There’s so much good work out there, and I hope you all win fame and glory and bragging rights. In the meantime, if you have any clout or connections, I’d appreciate it if you’d consider nominating my work for an award—any award—that comes with a good night’s sleep and maybe even a hug. Assuming faces are real.