Sometime last year I became a recipient of “The Word of the Day.” I didn’t sign up for it, but I must have accidentally hit a link. Still, I’m glad to have it.
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Category: Editor Picks
Week 573: An Elegy For a Friend and the A to Z of Adjectival Slight
A friend from my youth died recently. His name was Kim. We were close through our twenties until he moved to Japan (due to marriage). The only contact we had for decades was the occasional Facebook “happy birthday like” (I fell out of using Facebook fairly quickly; too many ads and idiots, but the premise is a good one). I considered writing letters, which I (without modesty) am pretty good at writing. Maybe I should have–but to paraphrase James Taylor “I didn’t know where to send them to.”
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Week 571: Andy Fought the Law, and, Well, Andy Won
Since late 2017 I have been feeding a Feral Cat named Andy Hisster (his image above, circa 2019). Simple math tells me that Andy, full-sized upon my meeting him, must be close to ten years old, which is a good age for a housecat and flat out Methuselah for a wild boy. And make no mistake, Andy is a wild wild wild one.
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569: More Grammar Gripes
Every year or so I feel obliged to make a statement on behalf of proper grammar in the English language. Before the tongue is finally killed and left to rot in the Pop Culture Wood, I feel that it is the duty of writers long acquainted with the written word to get in a few shots at the would-be murderers. The killers of language are the Usual Suspects, namely the Selfish and Lazy (from here, “Sal”).
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A Tribute to Tom Sheehan
Today we present a small tribute to our late friend Tom Sheehan (1928-2025). Tom was a friend of our site since the early days and published an astonishing total of 228 stories with us, by far the highest sum in our eleven year existence. Below you will find links to five of his stories, which will shine a light on the man, who is someone who earned the right to be remembered long and well.
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562- Remembering a Wonderful Friend and Some Goofiness Regarding Genre
A Friend
Dear Readers
Before we start this week’s silliness, I must relate the news of the passing of Tom Sheehan, who died 16 October, at age 97. Tom holds the site record of 228 stories. He and I coincidentally debuted on LS in August 2015, and Tom nearly doubled my output in less time, even though he was thirty-one years my senior. I doubt anyone will catch him.
But more importantly, Tom was a fine human being: A husband, father, grandfather, historian of Saugus, Massachusetts and a veteran of the Korean War. It is not my object to create sadness because 97 is a damn good run and Tom was still writing till the end. His final submission, an acceptance, of course, The Decoration occurred this past spring.
We will be running a far more fitting tribute to our friend in times ahead, so please keep an eye open.
Leila, Diane, Hugh
Genre
I am not powerfully educated nor will my pride allow me to google every little mystery, but I feel that I have a fairly clear-minded grasp of genre.
I hear the word and Western, Science Fiction, Fantasy (not just impossible S.F.), Crime (or CMT), Mystery and so on pop into mind. In that regard “genre” is a useful list of things, and I highly approve of lists.
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Week 560: A New Year Begins
A Kvetch
We have now officially opened the twelfth year of Literally Stories UK. And as it goes in life we have faced a recent challenge after we were listed (unbeknownst to us) by one of those publications that do such things. I do not know why such services still exist in the era of Google, nor do I grasp why people rely on such services, but the situation exists.
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Deadheads by David Henson
“Five in a row.” Kenny Langston sits on the front porch with his wife. “A couple were even threes.” The couple continue watching as their 10-year-old daughter, Alex, banks one in off the goal Kenny mounted to the garage.
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A Thousand More Steps by Harrison Kim
78-year-old Cameron walked about wearing a 40-pound exercise vest. His routine included marching every day up and down the mall stairs and then through the mall, back up to the park and along the beach and up some more stairs. The extra weight gave him purpose and strength.
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Week 557: Magick and Fare Thee Well Sybil Fawlty
As I get deeper into my cronehood, this time of existence in which people either do not see me or pretend they have business elsewhere when the cowl slips, November has become my friend. The mocking young forms who strode about oh so hot to trot last summer are now buried under layers of linen and lycra and are having a hell of a hard time using their phones in the rain.
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literally stories 