Rob Redman

I recently took out a subscription in the anthology series published by The Fiction Desk. I was intrigued by the idea of a periodical showcasing literary short fiction by new and more established authors. Soon the latest issue – “Long Grey Beard and Glittering Eye” – plopped through my letterbox.

Through regular contests, The Fiction Desk seeks to discover promising authors which it then features in its anthologies. This collection, for instance, includes the 2015 winner – Mark Newman with his chilling Before There Were Houses, This Was All Fields. The story takes as its starting-point the common crime/thriller trope of a missing young girl and turns it into an exploration of memory and nostalgia, before delivering a final (narratively satisfying) blow. The runner-up story – Tim Dunbar’s A Series of Circles is no less compelling: a drunken pick-up line by a woman he meets at a bar turns the narrator into a David-Bowie-obsessive, with darkly comic results.

The Fiction Desk does not shy away from so-called “genre” pieces, including works of “speculative fiction”. This issue for instance includes Jacki Donnellan’s I Don’t Blink – a commentary on our obsession with social media which imagines a not-so-far dystopian future where the world is literally seen through glasses equipped with W’Eye-Fi – and the apocalyptic Sky Burial by Richard Smyth with its England taken over by wild animals and ripped apart by civil war. In his Jonathan, Louis Rakovich uses a ghost story of sorts to approach themes of memory, relationships and guilt.

The anthology includes nine stories in all. They are of a consistently high quality, all striking in their own way. Here are voices which have not yet been edited into blandness by over-eager publishers, voices which deserve to be heard and enjoyed.
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The latest Fiction Desk anthology took some time to arrive, but it was worth the wait. Typically, the featured works are strong on narrative - they are all, first and foremost, "good stories" which shy away from experimentalism for its own sake.

That is not to say that they are not original. Take for instance the first, second and third-placed submissions in the Fiction Desk's 2015 "Ghost Story Competition", each of which is included in the present anthology. None of them is your typical spooky tale. Alex Clark's "Poor Billy" plays around with our expectations of the genre, Anabel Graff's "Soup, Condensed" is closer to magical realism, whilst S.R. Mastrantone's "Home Solutions for Mould", although possibly classifiable as a "haunted house tale" is definitely more concerned with the pain of the living than with the return of the dead.

There are other examples of "subverted" genre fiction. I enjoyed James Mitchell's "Renaissance Man", somewhat reminiscent of The Truman Show but interesting in its conception. And the winners of the "Flash Fiction Competition" (Mike Scott Thomson's "Beat the Brainbox", F J Morris's "Two-timer" and Ren Watson's "The Buzzing within my Head") are notable for taking striking (and quite fantastical) scenarios and managing to develop them convincingly in just a few paragraphs.

The title of the anthology is a reference to the collection's recurring theme of "separation". Practically all the stories evoke in some way the idea of division, whether between individuals or, in a more metaphorical way, between the protagonists and their past or present identities. Perhaps nowhere is this more evident than in the more "realistic" of the stories. In "Two Pounds, Six Ounces" by Hannah Mathewson, a daughter rushes to her mother's hospital deathbed but an electricity outage changes her plans; the protagonist of David Frankel's "Stay" takes care of a dog which reminds him of his lost son; a mother and daughter grieve for a loved husband and father in Claire Parkin's "Splitting Miles".

And then there's one of the stories I liked best: "A History Lesson" by Kate van der Borgh. It is a no-frills piece, the tale of a young history teacher who goes on a school trip to Italy soon after an emotionally-painful breakup. The character's inner turmoil is subtly portrayed and what initially seems quite an understated story starts to ratchet up the tension, leading to a not-entirely-surprising-but-equally-effective finale.

"A History Lesson" is one of a number of works in this anthology (two others being "Beat the Brainbox" and "Home Solutions for Mould") in which modern technology and particularly social media, play an important role. Perhaps this could be an idea for a future Fiction Desk instalment?… (meer)

The Fiction Desk Anthology series has now reached its thirteenth volume, entitled “Somewhere This Way”. In his introduction to this latest issue, editor Rob Redman explains that, as in previous years, the theme and title of the collection were suggested "by the stories themselves" as they were being compiled. In this case, the stories explore, to quote the blurb on the back, the routes people take through life: they find their way, lose the thread they’re following, or think again about the path they’re on. It’s an intriguing unifying theme – one which gives the collection itself a “thread to follow”, whilst allowing for a degree of variety in the subject of the individual pieces.

It is also a theme which reflects – albeit obliquely – the political realities of the present, especially with the looming cloud of Brexit. Redman insists that the publication does not generally take a political position and his stance is, accordingly, restrained and measured. Yet, he comments on the importance of a strong and open relationship between the countries of Europe and the benefits which come from freedom of movement. Perhaps it comes as no surprise that, compared to previous anthologies in the series, this particular selection contains a strong dose of realism, and is often tinged with a sense of sadness and nostalgia.

A case in point is “Our Gaff”, by Poppy Toland, a young woman’s coming of age story, narrated by her mother, a single parent with mental health issues. Massive Attack’s song “Unfinished Sympathy” is repeatedly referenced, as if it were a sort of imaginary soundtrack, imbuing the writing with the wistful melancholy of trip-hop. Toland’s piece placed second in the Fiction Desk’s Newcomer Prize. The winning entry – “Seelence” – by Lahra Crowe is also included in this collection and also deals with loss. Set against the sublime backdrop of the Scottish Highlands, its narrator is a young widow who resists her family’s pressure to return to a conventional life. The story is remarkable in its use of Scottish dialect, which is only momentarily abandoned, subtly suggesting the inescapable link between language and thought (an idea which reminded me strongly of the late Andrea Camilleri’s historical novel La mossa del cavallo).

The theme of “routes” and “journeys” takes on a literal twist in Michael Hurst’s Life on the Road. Colleagues Terri and Richard are travelling by car to their firm’s head office. It is evident that there is a history to their relationship which goes beyond work, but this particular trip will test it to the limits.

It is not the first time that these anthologies have explored technology and its impact on individuals. “Broken Pixel”, Matt Harris’s first story to feature in the series, uses the subject of “cyber-espionage” to explore the ways in which our contemporary lives our mapped out on the internet.

Edinburgh-based author Alastair Chisholm returns with two contributions. In "The Castle", a day at the beach reveals the difficulties faced by a little boy in accepting his mother’s new partner. The symbolism is effective, despite being hardly subtle. I preferred Chisholm’s second story – “Exhalation” – which is almost Poe-like in its portrayal of obsession and descent into madness.

The Fiction Desk has consistently given priority to narrative over form and has never shied away from genre ficton. “Deep Green Leaves”, by regular contributor Alex Clark, fits these parameters nicely and provides a strong opener to this collection. I won’t reveal too many details, except to state that this starts off as a crime story and ends up somewhere completely different. It’s also a touching exploration of solitude and outsiderness.

As far as “genre” is concerned, The Fiction Desk has been particularly attentive to the ghost story, featuring no less than three volumes exclusively dedicated to supernatural tales. (You can read my review of the third one here). It’s surely difficult to come across a ghost story as heart-warming Guy Russell’s “The Haunted Bookshop”. It features a spectre who is not only benign, but decidedly and actively benevolent. The story is also a love-song to bookshops and fiction in general, and provides a fitting ending to this collection.

In the past months, The Fiction Desk announced several changes to its editorial approach, with the abolition of its long-established Newcomer, Ghost Story and Flash Fiction competitions, and their replacement with “themed” calls for submissions. Perhaps, like the protagonists of “Somewhere This Way”, this publication also needs to take stock of where it is now, with a view to venturing into pastures new. I sincerely hope that the values of well-crafted storytelling which have defined it so far will be retained in the next stage of its unfinished journey...… (meer)

I have now been a subscriber to The Fiction Desk anthologies of short fiction for the past years and I must say it’s always a pleasure when the latest issue pops through the letter-box. The twelfth volume in the collection explores the theme of “loss”. In his introduction, editor Rob Redman notes that it is generally when submissions are being assembled that a connecting thread between the stories starts to manifest itself. Perhaps that is indeed the case, but in this volume, the subject of loss is presented – whether consciously or unconsciously – in the most variegated of shapes and forms.

Thus, mislaid luggage appears twice, with startlingly different results. In Douglas Bruton’s “Thirteen Wedding Dresses”, a bride’s wedding attire prompts a wistful, lyrical story but, in Alastair Chisholm’s “Uncle Dougie’s Suitcase” the airport luggage carousel (and what happens behind its doors) is the setting of an impishly dark tale with echoes of Roald Dahl.

“The Black Squirrel” by Christopher Howard refers to loss in a more oblique way. A woman spends her time in a park, looking for an elusive black squirrel which reminds her of her grown-up son, with whom she has practically lost contact. Sean Gill’s “The Computer Man” presents us with an old woman who gets all worked up about cold calls from a man who tries to sell her computer accessories. We realise, alongside with the narrator, that notwithstanding her complaints, these calls have become a highlight of her twilight days.

There’s a similar sense of longing for the past in “All Washed Up” by Chris Hogben, whose protagonist is a semi-retired actor who has seen much better days. Hogben also contributes “The Star which Stayed till morning”, a tale which strikes a delicate balance between sci-fi and supernatural fiction and which placed second in the 2018 Fiction Desk Ghost Story competition,. The winner, “The Spare Room” by C. B. McCall is the only supernatural tale I know which is told from the point of view of a cat. At first, this feline perspective elicits a smile – one which is soon wiped away by the chilling final paragraphs. Third-placed “Highway Memorials” by Kris Ashton is a rather more traditional ghost story which also references urban legends about highway hauntings. “Briar Rose” by Alex Clark, although not taken from the contributions to the competition, also has the flavour of the ghost story, although one suspects that these particular hauntings are in the mind.

Another contest run by The Fiction Desk is the Flash Fiction Competition. The 2017 edition was won by Steve Clarkson – “Excuse me” shows us that behind the possibly bland, predictable exterior of the “tourist” lies a human being carrying a baggage of personal pains.

Whilst some of the contributors have already been featured before, this anthology also has space for newcomers. And it is refreshing to note that “newcomers” are not necessarily young authors. Eleanor Bell had been a teacher for many years before trying her hand at writing. She draws upon her experiences for “Meeting Miss Mathieson” a piece of speculative fiction which explores the challenges and expectations facing modern parents. And Bert Thomson worked as a criminal lawyer for nearly forty years before returning to his first love, literature. He contributes a nostalgic love story – “On Some Cold Fierce Winter’s Day”. It might not be particularly original but it’s well-written and moving and fits the ethos of “The Fiction Desk” – that of presenting “stories about people and places, rather than about writing itself”.… (meer)