Short Fiction Contest Introduction

Did you get a good view of the eclipse last year? In Gambier, hundreds of us gathered on the lawn in front of the library, sharing the special flimsy glasses and making jokes as we gazed up into the gray sky. We could see the outline of the sun in the very beginning, but the clouds grew thick, and we lost sight before any real sign of a cosmic event. It became something of a joke, how little we were able to see. The students dispersed. Others I talked to, who traveled to Kansas City or Nashville—Laura Maylene Walter wrote a blog post about this—had almost life-changing views as the sky grew dark, and those watching together felt an enormous happening.

Every year we open for the Short Fiction Contest, we’re on the lookout for that feeling, that shift, one that will shake something inside of a reader. It can sneak up on you. Take “Lionel, for Worse,” David Greendonner’s winning story in this year’s contest. While the plot is very simple—a couple practices spreading ashes as the husband grapples with his friend Stan’s death—the most dumbfounding part of the story is the couples love for one another, which is never articulated outright. In fact, they’re both pretty sarcastic all the way through.