We are thrilled to announce that the brilliant Tony Tulathimutte—author of the 2024 National Book Award longlisted novel Rejection—will judge the 2025 American Short(er) Fiction Prize. The prize recognizes extraordinary short fiction under 1,500 words. The first-place winner will receive a $1,000 prize and publication. Previous winners of the Short(er) Fiction Prize have gone on to be anthologized in places such as The Pushcart Prize: Best of the Small Presses. All entries will be considered for publication.
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MFA for All
MFA for All was born from our desire to create a space where MFA-quality instruction is widely accessible to writers no matter their age, background, location, or financial situation. MFA for All is not a degree-granting program—it is a community-rich online educational experience led by top-notch faculty, free of the significant hurdles of time, expense, and geography that MFAs demand. Taught by some of the most elite authors of our day, the lectures are designed to be as rewarding for seasoned authors as they are for writers earlier in their careers.
The Halifax Ranch Fiction Prize 2024
We’re so pleased to announce that our judge for this year’s Halifax Ranch Fiction Prize will be Daniel Mason, author of The Piano Tuner, A Far Country, The Winter Soldier, A Registry of My Passage Upon the Earth, and most recently North Woods, a New York Times Bestselling novel, a New York Times and Washington Post Top 10 Book of 2023, and finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award. This year, we’re again partnering with the Tasajillo Residency, an idyllic writing residency that neighbors the Halifax Ranch just outside of Austin in Kyle, Texas. In addition to publication and a $2,500 prize, we are excited to offer the winning writer an all-expenses-paid writing retreat at the Tasajillo’s beautiful cabin.
Spiders Cry Without Tears
“Here comes Meg now.” Sally waved to the woman shaking her umbrella in front of the shop’s glass door. Meg passed the refrigerated case of variously colored gladioli and smiled her greeting to the manager. “Aren’t you disgusting!” Sally said, circling Meg with a swoop of her hand. “Here everybody else is soaked to the skin. Do you always have to look so good?” Sally playfully made a face at her. “You know, honey, I just don’t feel like the day has started until you come.”
EOD
Sam feared old people. She feared their drooping folds, their soft edges, like a block of butter left out for too long. They haunted the office in their squelching orthopedic sneakers, moving so slowly that Sam sometimes expected them to leave behind snail trails of mucus. She drifted behind them in the hallways, keeping at least ten paces of distance. She didn’t like to get too close to their odor of mothballs and lye soap; she didn’t want to see where their hair had thinned to reveal the shocking white of their scalps.
Shouting Is at Least Talking
For six years I dated Ian, but only once we broke up did everyone close to me reveal they never liked him anyway. “We didn’t want to tell you,” my mother said. “We?” “Your father never liked him either.” She went quiet. “Ian’s tone was a little off. Do you know what I mean?” “He was good at communicating his needs,” I said.