finding the literature vol. 12

spotlighting Substack fiction

Whenever you start adding a lot of Notes to a post it quickly gets too long for email. View this in your web browser for best reading.

Welcome to finding the literature!

So yeah, recently I was made The Happiest Man On Earth. While I have been overjoyed, it has brought about some lifestyle changes that so far have not been conducive to reading or writing in general:

And certainly not conducive to reading and discovering new fiction writers on Substack!

While this post might be indicative of a corner-turning in terms of my time management within the new lifestyle, it’s safe to say I may soon have to enter “Me Mode”.

By that I mean: Focused on reading and writing away from Substack fiction.

I entered “Me Mode” a couple summers ago, when I wrote the big T. All it really means is my default action when opening my laptop will no longer be to engage with Substack (unbelievable, I know!), but instead have a word processor open to an ongoing project, putting my nose to that grindstone, and forging ahead.

Yeah, I might still shitpost on Notes from time to time as my sleep-deprived brain seeks the Notes feed for solace in the wakeful blue light of my phone. Yeah, I might still comment on whatever discourse is dredged up from some traditional culturally relevant magazine. Yeah, I might still post a few of the essays or short stories I have in my backlog.

Anyways, what I’m trying to say is: I imagine this will be my last finding the literature for a bit.

I started doing this spotlight because I thought: If I want fiction to be read on Substack, I need to read it myself, and help others do so as well. Whatever I put into the Substack Fiction community is what I get back. That’s what this is all about.

I hope you’ll forgive me for not putting in so much in the coming months.

Without further ado—here’s vol. 12—

One of the cool things about Substack fiction is that you can format your story for unique storytelling structures that a lit mag would maybe need an extra bit of convincing on. This one simply applies a new header for each different first person voice, adding different characters’ perspectives of the same events and people.

Techniques like this (and more complex ones) are common in Substack fiction, and that’s a good thing.

Orin Might hasn’t posted for a while, but checking out some of his other stories, I hope we can give him some subscribers so he’ll return to us and keep writing!

I really liked this from Anthony DeGennaro because I think it fits the niche I myself try to fill, somewhere in the masculinity lane that doesn’t adhere to the same set of values espoused by the “manosphere” but addresses the concerns of modern men through fictional but real depictions. It combines sport, male loneliness, and our hesitancy to be even slightly vulnerable.

It seems like Anthony hasn’t posted much since this one, but I hope they keep writing, because there is room for these sort of stories. Don’t know how I discovered them, but they have 7 subscribers at time of writing and haven’t posted yet this year, so I don’t know if they are around or not still. If you care about keeping this sort of writing around, please subscribe to them.

Kevin Flynn is really the absolute pinnacle of what I hope to achieve with finding the literature, the kind of writer I wish I could find week in and week out. They encapsulate so much of what I believe makes great Substack fiction: a profile picture of a cat; a knack for flash fiction; a self-published author; a grand total of 73 subscribers. Give this octopus story a read and tell me they don’t have talent.

Then read their most recent short story here, containing gems like this bit:

Rhonda smoked her cigarettes in the saber beam of an overhead light by the dumpsters, under stars that weep with open arms over aluminum roofs that pass in ones and twos, casting brittle beams of their own as they go. On clear nights the flat air from the fields comes into Rhonda’s nose thick like grass and she throws away half of a smoke just to breathe in the smell of her aloneness.

I don’t really know Kevin at all. In fact, I’ve forgotten how they got on my radar. But if you believe in fiction on Substack, believe in writers like Kevin.

I was first introduced to Lillian Wang Selonick via her review of…ahem…the novel by The Least Good Male Significant Other Of All Time. I also enjoyed her emoji rating of the books she’s read in the past year, including chapter by chapter emoji reviews of one of my favorite classics, Ulysses.

I’ve tried doing a few book reviews and find myself terrible at them. It’s a whole other skill and muscle. I find myself empathizing too much with the writer I’m reviewing and also reflecting any ‘bad’ review back at myself. Can I ever escape writing in the footprints of criticism I’ve leveled at other artists? I.e. am I shackling myself to the tenets of writing propriety I establish in reviews?

I’ll figure it out someday.

My point is, Lillian is a reviewer who can also write, and I respect that enormously. Between this one and another piece in Futurist Letters, I’d be excited to read the novel she says she’s working on. She has an effortless style and unique perspective on American life. Is there something…Sedaris in her voice? I hope she doesn’t take offense or find that inaccurate.

Brenden O'Donnell is another Substacker who blends criticism and reviews with fiction. I haven’t read much of his non-fiction, but the stories combine humor and the gay experience in a way that reminds me a lot of Bryan Pirolli, one of my Substack fiction favorites.

(Not sure if these two have read each other, but one of my favorite things is to link up Substack fiction writers.)

Is it too soon to write about COVID and quarantine? I thought I saw Andrew Martin’s new book is COVID-based.

Last year I plotted out an entire novel based in quarantine, but it seems like the embers of that whole experience are burning too hot for any literature to be set there without scalding itself on politics. Someday, maybe.

Rarely do I ever re-stack a story twice. This should tell you all you need to know about what I thought of Erichka’s work here.

I returned to this short story as a shining example of what power the Internet commons might have over the selection process of lit mags. If it had gone to a lit mag (perhaps even a Substack one) would it have been accepted? I like to think yes—but would it have also had so many readers? I hope so, but again—maybe not.

Erichka is, like me, somewhat of a Hemingway disciple it seems, and it shows in this story. She had a viral Note that sparked some good discussion about Hemingway, in particular comparing him to Faulkner. If you’re one of those who came out to disparage Hemingway as part of that discourse, well, that’s fine by me! You might not like her writing, then, though.

But please check it out anyway because I think Erichka is one of the rising stars of literary Substack.

Continuing on with the lit-mag submission theme. Michael McSweeney has had bylines in XRAY, an online lit mag. But now he’s on Substack posting great little small town stories like this one. Slice of life stories away from the major metropolises that dominate our literature. Unglamorous stories that speak to beautiful mundanity. I mean, this excerpt in my re-stack begins with washing dishes.

(Another meet-cute to encourage if they are not already familiar with each other: paging Peter Shull!)

One of Michael’s stories was recent featured in the Substack Post—the primary vehicle for a fiction story posted on Substack to reach a wide audience.

In doing so, I am willing to bet it reached more eyes than any lit mag he’s likely to submit to again. And I think that’s beautiful.

For a story that would definitely be accepted at a lit mag (or should have been), check out this one from Pete Tosiello.

Pete is another writer with freelance bylines in big traditional publications. From what I gather, like Lillian, he is primarily a reviewer, and another who can also do the thing: write fiction.

Pete was very thankful for my praise, but he should know I meant it, no smoke blown. For someone (like me) who is sick of NYC popping up in every other short story, that he managed to beautifully incorporate the setting without explicitly naming and while simultaneously endearing me is a wonder. I hope he posts more fiction to Substack. Who needs bylines?

That’s a wrap on vol. 12! I’ll leave you with this: