Who Reads Lit Mags? We Do! Spotlight on Your Impossible Voice, Flash Frog, and SmokeLong Quarterly

"So it feels like the perfect time of year for flash."

Hi, all. Jessica here. It’s the first Thursday of the month, which means we all get to share what we’ve been reading in lit mags!

As always, I’ve been keeping a list of all works mentioned in this series, including works shared in the comments section, which you can find right here.

This month, I’m focusing on flash fiction. Spring has sprung in my part of the world, and the flowers are begging to be adored and my dog is telling me it’s time to go to the park. In Portland, springtime rain is met with bouts of sunshine, and if you’re outside at the right time, you’ll catch a rainbow. That translates to me being antsy. If it was allowed, I’d wear a shirt at work that says, I’d rather be outside.

This year more than ever, I’m gripped by this weird sense of urgency, like I need to get outside and hug the trees and breathe in the fresh air before it’s too late (anybody else? Just me?). So it feels like the perfect time of year for flash. In my head I’m shouting, hurry, hurry, hurry! And flash is right there with me. It’s already built for speed, as if the author and I are moving in sync.

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Whenever I think of flash, the first person I think of is Tommy Dean, someone who truly understands and champions the form. Full disclosure: I first met Tommy Dean when I was seeking feedback on my writing, and I was so floored by his generosity of insight. Tommy Dean is the Editor of both Fractured Lit and Unchartered Magazine, and not only is he a masterful writer, he can also be found giving interviews and advocating for the recognition of flash fiction not just as a “short short story” but as a distinct literary genre.

On the Otherppl podcast’s Craftwork series, host Brad Listi interviews Tommy Dean, and I greatly value this episode, which provides a wealth of information all about writing in this form.

Otherppl logo

There is so much I could highlight from this interview, but here are my two favorite takeaways: Firstly, Dean touches upon the idea that writing flash gives permission to take creative risks. Unlike a novel, which could take 5 years to finish (or for me even longer!) and carries the heavy weight of reader expectations, flash is a form where the stakes are lower, so you’re freer to experiment and fail.

That leads into my second, closely related favorite takeaway: Dean’s celebration of play within the form. Approaching flash fiction not as a rigid exercise in minimalism, but as an opportunity to experiment, with structure, voice, language, and metaphor. This also shifted my perspective as a reader, because now when I read flash, I’m looking for moments of inventiveness, surprise, and experimentation. And I love that I can enjoy that fully, even when I’m in a rush.

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Your Impossible Voice, Fall 2024

One lit mag I discovered through Tommy Dean’s work is Your Impossible Voice, through his piece “City. Night. Bursting.” Chill Subs says it best, when describing the vibe of this journal: “Weird / outsider / wtf even is it.” I never know what I’m going to read, but I have come to expect pieces from here that are intimate, disorienting, and boldly experimental.

There is something so strange about the title of Tommy Dean’s piece: City. Night. Bursting. It’s unusual for there to be periods in a title, and it somehow makes it all sound jerky, as if someone is holding back, restraining themselves against something bursting inside of them. What is that something? Is it evil? Then there is the way this piece begins: “Look, I know I shouldn’t be looking, but the city heat has me out on the streets…” It’s so masterful how a word like “look,” a colloquialism we have all heard often, or a simple period is infused with an ominous charge. There is something feral yet half-swallowed about the language of this story. I was awed by the craft…but grateful it was short, because the narrator is so unsettling, I was glad I didn’t have to stay with him for very long.

Another piece published in Your Impossible Voice, a fire of her own by Pegah Ouji, is a masterclass in layered storytelling. In such a short amount of time, this piece weaves together the innocent bewilderment of youth, the political, and the mythic into a single breathless narrative. What strikes me the most is the way fire moves throughout the story, touching bark, the burning of the Roosaris, the lollipops, and finally…well, if you are reading this before you read this incredible piece, I don’t want to spoil the ending, because it perfectly encapsulates the story’s undeniable call for justice.

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My favorite story of the month is “Dalmations” by Natalie Warther, published in Flash Frog. I was smitten with the main character after reading the opening lines: “He had six Dalmatians, all names starting with the letter “L.” Lulu, Leon, Leonard, Lupe, Lukas, and Little. I asked why “L” and he said he liked the shape the letter made–two lines coming together.” I love this man. Not just because he is a devoted dog owner, but as someone who sees letters with affection and tenderness.

I had never considered the letter L as anything more than a letter, but now I see the shape of it, the poetry of it, and it makes me think of “Dalmations.” Warther’s piece, stripped of all its fat, absolutely devasted me, as it circled around the very real problem of taking care of beloved dogs while also bringing a newborn baby into the world. It’s a perfect example of Flash Frog’s gift for publishing flash fiction that feels small and sharp, and earth-shattering.

Flash Frog logo

Flash Frog’s interface is high quality and professional, and there’s a real sense of joy. Their description reads: “We like our stories like we like our dart frogs: small, brightly colored, and deadly to the touch.” The journal’s blue border, the charming frog on a typewriter logo (which you can get as a sticker for free!), and the cohesive aesthetic all reflect the editors’ infectious enthusiasm. That joy carries into the stories themselves, as each one is paired with original artwork that enhances the reading experience. Every piece feels chosen, nurtured, and thoughtful presented…and then of course the flash eviscerates you in the best way.

One more thing to note for all you scary story lovers out there: every October, Flash Frog transforms into Flash Frogtober, devoting the entire month to ghost stories under 1,000 words.

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Okay, I have confession to make… and this coming from a person who is a big fan of Alice Says Go Fuck Yourself... I do not like the name of the lit mag SmokeLong Quarterly. I know! I’m the worst! Especially because it’s an amazing lit mag that’s been around for over 20 years, has free submission periods, and it pays writers handsomely for their work.

SmokeLong logo

According to their website, “the term ‘smoke-long’ comes anecdotally from the Chinese, who noted that reading a piece of flash takes about the same length of time as smoking a cigarette.” It goes on to say: “SmokeLong Quarterly does not encourage smoking.” To be clear: I do NOT want this lit mag to change its name; I emphatically do not want that. I just wanted to be real with you folks. I haven’t had a cigarette since college but every time I hear the name, I just really want to bum one, take familiar drag, and read some good words through the smoke, like I’m 22 again and health and redemption are still possible. But anyway, let me not digress…

The piece I can’t stop thinking about from Smokelong Quarterly is “Grocery Store Mama” by Shayla Frandsen, which won The SmokeLong Quarterly Award for Flash Fiction (The Smokey) in 2024, and deservedly so. From the first sentence, this story hooked me and I felt as if I knew the Nana. I genuinely believed there was going to be a tiger in this story. That’s what makes it so powerful: it weaponizes the tightness of flash fiction.

Why else would the writer waste so many words about tigers if a tiger wasn’t going to appear? Every sentence by Frandsen is humming with tension, priming you for an attack, although you’re not sure if the attack will help or hurt. I read on with the creeping sense that something awful is about to happen, and then the real turn hits. It’s not what I expected at all. It’s quieter, sharper, and far more human than the setup lets on. The twist isn’t just clever, it’s gutting. Especially the last line.

I very much appreciated the interview SmokeLong Quarterly offered by Shayla Frandsen on her winning story. I especially admired her insight on how atmosphere can be more powerful than exposition. She explains that by evoking the store’s decaying surroundings—the rats, the spoiled food, the bleakness—she could let those details imply deeper truths without naming them outright.

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So those are my picks, now it’s your turn! What lit mags have you been reading lately?

Like last time, please note that, while I look forward to reading our Lit Mag Brags each month and seeing what and where everyone has been published, I’d like this to be a resource for what we’re reading, not what we’ve written.

I can’t wait to see what everyone suggests.