Tag: writing

Editor Picks, Writing

Editor Picks by Vic Smith

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We invited Literally Stories author and friend, Vic Smith, to be Editor for a day and choose three great short stories from the site. Here is what Vic had to say about the three stories he chose and why he felt they were special.

This list of my three favourite stories from Literally Stories only crystallised as I set out to write it. These are the stories that meant most to me at that moment. At another time, when I’m in a different mood or when the weather has changed, it would be a different list. The depth of talent here is too great to be summed up in such a small number.

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Latest News

Literally Stories Week 28

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Anyone who has followed the progress of Literally Stories over the past seven months will testify to the fact there are no specific genres or themes favoured above any other in the choice of stories we have published. No subject matter has taken precedence over any other. There is no writing style which is de rigueur with the Editors of the site. Just good stories. At any rate, we, the Editors, like to think so. Not that every story is to everyone’s taste. You can please some of the people all of the time…

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Editor Picks, Writing

Editor Picks by Hugh Cron

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When we thought about doing this I considered researching, re-reading and trying to come across as a damn sight more intelligent than I am. I therefore decided to do this off the cuff. That is what it is all about. In my lifetime I have read over 400 books and I would not be able to hazard a guess at the amount of short stories. Within all of the short stories published on Literally Stories, I remember some. Those are the ones that I would like to consider.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

A Night In Vienna by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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Overlooking the Staatsoper, the Rathaus, the Parlament and the Burgtheater Johann ticked his finger up and down. The lighting made a group of freshmen look as if they flickered underneath an ethereal golden waterfall. They danced and laughed on the market place, took pictures and were allowed to be free. A girl with blond hair in a white dress caught Johann’s attention. The others talked while she almost tiptoed away. He lowered his finger but stopped it from rising again. Her smile. Mesmerising. He stamped his feet on the wooden floor, watched her move around a street lamp. Graceful and delicate. She’s smiling still. And she came around to the other side, his side, the dress and the hair moved like a C Major played by a violin. Back to C, but from where? Not some place dangerous, some place of comfort and trust. Of the golden waterfall and the blend between baroque and renaissance architecture. Was she even real? Could she disappear at any moment if he just closed his eyes? He raised his finger and closed his eyes. She was gone. And so was the group of students.

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In conversation with...

Tobias Haglund In conversation with Nik Eveleigh

Nik

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”Did you know that The Hobbit has 95022 words?”

“I didn’t. Now, watch your head. You’re taller than I thought. I mean, I’ve only seen your picture-“

“Yes, those are deliberately small. So this is your man cave?”

Nik skipped and yodeled his way to the brewing station. “Here! Look here. Now, wait, let me conduct a little presentation for you, my Swedish friend. Here, is where ale becomes Bale – that’s a Welsh football reference – here, is where a pond of swans becomes Swansea. But enough of my great Welsh puns, HERE, is where the best beer brews, buddy.”

Tobias sniffed and smiled, sniffed and smiled. By now, he was more dog-like than people-like. “So spin me the tail… I mean tale of the beer.”

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All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

A New Perspective or That Time I Was Allergic to Wussing Out by Alex Rezdan

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There’s nothing like almost killing yourself to put things into perspective. The slow, dull lull of life seeping out of your body one drop at a time, and you, rushing to say all you need to say before it’s all over. And by you, I mean me, of course.

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All Stories, Romance

Before Hitting The Ground by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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”Did you know Leonardo da Vinci was a farmer’s son?”

“No.”

“He was. Born out of wedlock by a mother who was a farmer.  You can imagine how it must have looked. Fifteen century Italy, born and raised by a single mother, yet he still managed to accomplish those many great things. It really is a great argument that every social class should be given a chance, right?”

“Right.”

“The next Leonardo da Vinci might be raised right now by a single mother.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Look. If you don’t want-”

“I want to. Let’s just talk for a while first.” Kevin sat down on the bed. “Would you? Would you please say something. Just… I wanna hear you talk. It soothes me.”

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In conversation with...

Tobias Haglund in conversation with Adam West

Tobias Haglund

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”Sit down, my good friend, sit down.” Adam gave Tobias a stout. “There you go. Something imperial to take your mind off of things.”

“Thank you, kind sir. My mind has been racing, that’s for sure.” Tobias took a big enough sip for it to be called a chug, but he did it in such a gentlemanlike way it remained a sip. “Mind if I share with you what burdens me?”

“I’m all… wait -” Adam chugged a stout and slumped down. “Ears.”

“I’m a Swede, as you know, and therefore when I write English, prone to make mistakes. Some are because it’s a second language and some are genuine mistakes. Let’s start with the latter. Take for instance the word mistake. In Swedish a miss is always spelled with two S. Even when writing mistakes-”

“I’m sensing a pun here…”

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All Stories, Fantasy

Sadistic Justice by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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In a damp cellar the mould mixed with the scent of urine coming from his rags. A drop of sweat still dangled at the tip of his black hair from an excruciatingly painful hour as the hatchway closed. He was strong, the strongest, but he had never endured that level of pain. Moss and mice were signs of hope, or at least hope of life in the dark.

Conspirator. Traitor. Your house shall burn and your name will be dragged in the mud.

And they dragged his face in mud. Along the wooden planks and the stone. From one side of the long wall to the next. Two hard punches to the back of his head threw him into the stone. He lost teeth. A man stamped him in the lumbar region, which was the reason he couldn’t stand up.

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