My Fig Recs

Inspired completely by figfinds, these are stories I love from figment.com where I write as L. Schmidt.

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A relationship can fall apart in many ways.

The Coffee House by eponyMouse gives the same point of fracture over many different timelines. Who makes the first crack? Why? And more importantly, will it always end the same?

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Congrats, to Elizabeth G.'s story, Aerial, making the Figment Editor's Choice pick. Aerial is one of my go to suggestions to new figment readers, as it's loaded with layers despite being a minute long.

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This is a collaboration novel between: Robin has no Name & gwen. 

to whoever stole my bike: please marry me

  so like

i know this isn’t the classiest way of doing things

and i apologize in advance for posting my proposal

on the bulletin board

of this skeezy coffee shop –

no offense to the owners

[figrecs-blog]

A girl slowly reveals why she refuses to love.

"I'm not allowed to love," she tells him, cigarettes on her breath. "Says who?" says he. "Says me," says she. He nods and kisses her anyways, because she is so beautiful in her little red raincoat.

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The carnival only came in the summer, and so it was always summer to her. But Alette had never seen a summer like this one, a summer like Nathaniel.

The circus, the traipse, falling in love, in life and as a metaphor.

[figrecs-blog]

Once a year, the Seven Stations all dock together to share resources and celebrate the completion of another orbit. Evelyn's sister, Annalisa, disappeared on a Summermeet two years ago. In searching for her, Evelyn finds more than she bargained for in the form of Fitch, a scruffy but charming station-hopper.

[lightningcake]

Neither map nor compass can help you. The way is different for everyone, though you’ve reached the halfway point when the boughs and branches whisper. A fox stands sentry on the porch. If denied entry, mind its claws and turn back. Turn back. If allowed to pass, knock twice and let yourself in. She will be awaiting your arrival. Upon meeting the storyteller: Be polite. Do not sit until invited to do so. She will expect a gift. It needn’t be lavish or dear to your heart, simply whatever is on your person. If pleased, she’ll offer tea and ask if you’d like to warm your toes by the fire. If not, the tea will bite your tongue and taste bitter - but no matter. (Remember the first rule.) In return, she’ll tell a story. Listen carefully for this story is especially made for you and you alone. Treat it as you would any other precious thing. Covet it. Keep it safe and locked away inside you. You may never repeat the story to another. (It’s said a fool once made the mistake of doing just that and lost his tongue in the night. You’ve been warned.) When her tale is finished, offer to help douse the fire. Thank her kindly and take your leave. Do not dawdle. Do not look back. So, now that you know, tell me: Do you journey forth to seek the storyteller? . Kristin Yuki was born and raised in Los Angeles, California, where she is currently at work on her first novel.

[ellajayes]

I’m pretty sure this is the same Kristin Yuki and that makes me incredibly happy :)

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Since she is on figment, I'm including this as a recommendation there as well. Lightning Cake is a tumblr flash fiction zine that features the writing of Susan Anspach, John Biggs, Samantha Chaffin, L. Chapman, Cate Fricke, Ruby Herbert, Carlea Holl-Jensen, Kimberly Karalius, and Kristin Yuki.

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When Bentley couldn't get a donor heart, his mother did the only thing she could do - she shifted into one.

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I had never feared death, sitting on a throne of bones and corpses. I had forgotten, as I watched the life fade from others at my grasp, that I was not immortal. Surely, death had not forgotten me. It had only waited for the perfect time to check in.

[anaffinityforamelia]

amelia is completely country, from her pickup to her fruit. if she could choose one place to live it would be where she does now; like moss, this town has grown on her and shaped her whole person. without the town she’d be completely different.

[dewclad]

Amelia is amazing. :)

[figrecs-blog]

I agree, Amelia is amazing. You should check her out:

An Affinity for Amelia by Hannah Rachel

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Mad and wild, she ran away.

“I don’t see,” she said, “how everyone can just continue on walking to school every day; catch the bus, without wondering why they’re going.” She leaned against the old wooden fence, and I was taken by a sudden urge to grab her shoulder and pull her back, lest she get a splinter. But she kept on talking. “I mean, why take a bus to school when you could take a bus to the airport? And why walk when you can run? Why run when you can run away?”

[figrecs-blog]

When we were born we had wet shut eyes and only a little bit of hair. Your arms crinkled, legs were soft and baby, but I was the uglier one with my martian wide fivehead and webbed toes. I am lucky mama still loved me, because in those days, you didn’t love ugly babies.

[thewriterandthewhale]

The God of Enclosed Spaces won out, so I’ll do The Astronomer for another NaNo. Here’s the excerpt from my profile:

There was something out there in the dark. Flannery slipped into a worn pair of sneakers she kept by the backdoor and stepped outside. The air was too still for late...

[figrecs-blog]

Yessssss....precious

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Blankets by J Wheat Welton

my heart thrums twice

for every once of yours

keeping us in time

a steady discord.

and i think of the coming tides

and times

of you and me

    waking

under sunlight and too many blankets.

- blankets by j wheat welton

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Mercy Prowd, Salem witch.

Secrets are heavy things. Every Sabbath day they fasten to my heart, pinching and pulling like a tightening noose.

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claim the heavens, covet hell by Kaia

claim the heavens, covet hell by Kaia

A dystopian retelling of the Oedipus trilogy:

The line to get into the city stretches a good three miles down the road to Corinth, and Oedipus has been standing in it for what feels like a year. Back home, they talk about Thebes like it's the promised land, the last tiny oasis of hope in this godsforsaken wasteland, but here in this line there's nothing but dust and barbed wire and the silence of a million starving people.

Oedipus used to like silence.

[figrecs-blog]

The Blueprints to my Body.

...

In my teeth there are devilish glances, like cage match tickle fights, or bed sheet wrestling.

I my eyes there is the biggest library. I have not read even a fraction of the books, but I have skimmed most of the covers.