It was a hard fought battle between our top ten feisty hummingbird entrants, and the skirmish between the final two was fierce indeed. After careful scrutiny, our judge declared the winner by a feather to be …
‘Afterlife’ by Tatjana Mirkov-Popovicki
Judge Bob Thurber had this to say:
In ‘Afterlife’, the author skillfully tiptoes around grief and heartache, presenting a nicely woven, quirky portrait of life coming at you, whether you’re ready for it or not.
‘Featherweight’ by Chad V Broughman
The runner-up, ‘Featherweight’, was a close contender with an ache all its own. Two fine stories with dynamic voices.
– Bob Thurber
These two stories will be published in Pulp Literature Issue 25, Winter 2019. Congratulations to the winners as well as the top-notch shortlist, which included:
‘The Decline of the Human Race: Volume 01100’ by Mike Donoghue
Hummingbirds are quite competitive, and this year we have 10 hummingbirds vying for the sweet $300 grand prize. The shortlist is in the hands of former closet writer and current flash fiction master, Bob Thurber. Best of luck to the following authors!
Ariel Basom Chad V. Broughman Dylan Sealy Emily Ruth Verona Hannah van Didden Mack Stone Mike Donoghue Patricia Sandberg Tatjana Mirkov-Popovicki Teya Hollier
It’s said Jeki la Njambe has one crow’s foot and an antelope’s hoof besides. Jeki, they say, huddles around little liver-pecked fires, has one arm and it’s a real Misha. They say he fishes with it and you’ll know it’s that time by the smell of wet maple and iron-wood, or the whistling of hollow bamboo. Sure, they ramble such as it’s cooked, but you don’t go blaming a fire for making smoke. So just gather your ears from the field. I’m to straighten things, if my name ain’t Jeki la Njambe, and I tell you I know the right of it …
Truth was, Mrs Cole had become a little afraid of 902. Late in the evenings she’d hear 902’s footsteps slide across the tiled hallway, hesitating outside her door. “Is this my place?” her neighbour would ask. Mrs Cole would mute the volume on her TV and hold her breath as she sat quietly in her tidy living room waiting for the woman to shuffle away. The last few times Mrs Cole had encountered her, 902 was wearing nothing but a gray slip that blended with the colour of her skin and matched her hair — she appeared little more substantial than a shadow or dust mote hovering in the hall …
Xuefei sat on a metal stool in the corner of the operating theatre. He’d been awake all night, and now, sitting in the quiet of the deserted room, he felt drowsy. He had transported the heart of the criminal executed at dawn from the prison infirmary to the university hospital’s surgical suite, built especially for this demonstration. American transplant surgeons, collaborating with Chinese colleagues, were scheduled to do the first heart transplant on Chinese soil …
You say, No one is going to eat us, but I know better. The path of the forest is necklaced in footprints. The surface of the snow is scuffed and bloodied. They left no remains of skin or bone, just a fistful of hair that looks like our own. We stop and watch, for a long time, as if the blood was an outline, a shadow, a spirit blooming in the ice. You say the soul lifts from the body, but I see that it doesn’t …
Hayim lifted Mima toward the dhow. The captain knelt, grabbed her by her armpits and lifted her up, then lowered her into the hull. Hayim tossed in his duffle bag and for a moment, in the thin skim of ocean and sand that skirts Bagamoyo, stood apart from all that mattered in his world. Then he hoisted himself on board. Mima was already playing with the livestock and making friends with the other children. In the weeks since their arrival in Tanzania she had learned a mouthful of Swahili and was now in full song. Samaki! Kuku! Mbuzi! she pointed and guessed, and the children laughed and nodded and were impressed. Hayim climbed atop a mound of rice bags, maybe seven or eight deep, and pressed his duffle bag into the curve of the hull, punching it here and there with his fists, pounding out their shape. Between punches images of Tel Aviv flashed in his mind — their old apartment, the table and chairs, dishes and books he’d filled it with. Those few weeks when Mima had gone to preschool and life had felt normal and the word normal had plumped with meaning. Then Hayim lay down and his mind cleared …
Ten days and ten entries remain. We are pleased to release the Hummingbird Flash Fiction Prize shortlist. Listed below are the authors whose stories will be considered, by flash-master Bob Thurber, in alphabetical order.
Amy Neufeld Jen Knox Kate Felix Kate Felix Liz Cox Liza Potvin Nicholas Christian Rob Taylor Robert Runté Ron. Lavalette
The list is shorter, and the stakes are higher. Best of luck to these ten flashes of fiction!
A hummingbird sighting always feels a little bit magical, and with the many entries for this year’s Hummingbird Flash Fiction Prize, we are feeling awe-struck! We’re pleased to announce the longlist: the top 27 entries listed alphabetically by author last name. Authors listed twice have two entries in the longlist.
Alex Reece Abbott Ariel Basom Lauren Bentley Nicholas Christian Liz Cox Kate Felix Kate Felix Marissa Fischer Aleisha Hendry Terrence Huntington Jen Knox Jen Knox Ron. Lavalette Kim Martins Jenn Marx William P. Masters Gabriella Morrison Sadi Muktadir Amy Neufeld Liza Potvin Robert Runté Megan Rodgers Rob Taylor Annis Teller Annis Teller Hannah van Didden KT Wagner
Thank you to everyone who entered! The shortlist will be revealed in July, and the winners, picked by Bob Thurber, will be announced July 15th.
Looking for inspiration? Peruse these snippets from past Hummingbird Contest winners. All that furious fluttering should get the juices flowing.
2017 Hummingbird Flash Fiction Prize Winner, Issue 17 ‘Just Down the Hall’ by Jeanette Topar
Truth was, Mrs Cole had become a little afraid of 902. Late in the evenings she’d hear 902’s footsteps slide across the tiled hallway, hesitating outside her door. “Is this my place?” her neighbour would ask. Mrs Cole would mute the volume on her TV and hold her breath as she sat quietly in her tidy living room waiting for the woman to shuffle away. The last few times Mrs Cole had encountered her, 902 was wearing nothing but a gray slip that blended with the colour of her skin and matched her hair — she appeared little more substantial than a shadow or dust mote hovering in the hall.
2016 Hummingbird Flash Fiction Prize Winner, Issue 13 ‘Xuefei and his heart’ by Rebecca Wurz
Xuefei sat on a metal stool in the corner of the operating theatre. He’d been awake all night, and now, sitting in the quiet of the deserted room, he felt drowsy. He had transported the heart of the criminal executed at dawn from the prison infirmary to the university hospital’s surgical suite, built especially for this demonstration. American transplant surgeons, collaborating with Chinese colleagues, were scheduled to do the first heart transplant on Chinese soil.
2015 Hummingbird Flash Fiction Prize Winner, Issue 9 ‘The Last Neanderthals’ by Christina Crocker Escribano
You say, No one is going to eat us, but I know better. The path of the forest is necklaced in footprints. The surface of the snow is scuffed and bloodied. They left no remains of skin or bone, just a fistful of hair that looks like our own. We stop and watch, for a long time, as if the blood was an outline, a shadow, a spirit blooming in the ice. You say the soul lifts from the body, but I see that it doesn’t.
2014 Hummingbird Flash Fiction Prize Winner, Issue 5 Here I Lay Down My Heart by Rob Taylor
Hayim lifted Mima toward the dhow. The captain knelt, grabbed her by her armpits and lifted her up, then lowered her into the hull. Hayim tossed in his duffle bag and for a moment, in the thin skim of ocean and sand that skirts Bagamoyo, stood apart from all that mattered in his world. Then he hoisted himself on board. Mima was already playing with the livestock and making friends with the other children. In the weeks since their arrival in Tanzania she had learned a mouthful of Swahili and was now in full song. Samaki! Kuku! Mbuzi! she pointed and guessed, and the children laughed and nodded and were impressed. Hayim climbed atop a mound of rice bags, maybe seven or eight deep, and pressed his duffle bag into the curve of the hull, punching it here and there with his fists, pounding out their shape. Between punches images of Tel Aviv flashed in his mind — their old apartment, the table and chairs, dishes and books he’d filled it with. Those few weeks when Mima had gone to preschool and life had felt normal and the word normal had plumped with meaning. Then Hayim lay down and his mind cleared.
Close your eyes and it might pass you by! The Hummingbird Flash Fiction Prize is now open and we’ve got our noses pressed up against the glass, eager to see colourful flashes of fiction whizzing by!
Contest open: 1 May 2018 Deadline: 15 June 2018 Winners notified: 15 July 2018 Winners published in: Pulp Literature Issue 23, Winter 2019 First Prize: $300 and a 1 year subscription to Duotrope Runner up: $75
Judge: Bob Thurber
Entry fee: $15 Editorial Critique: $15 Early Bird fee (before 15 May): $10 Entry fees include a 1-year digital subscription to Pulp Literature.
This contest is for previously unpublished short fiction up to 1000 words in length. Multiple entries welcome. Total entries limited to 300.
Want feedback on your story? Get a professional critique from one of the Pulp Literature editors for only $15 more.
We are happy to announce the winner of the Hummingbird Flash Fiction Prize!
The winning story is ‘Just Down the Hall’ by Jeanette Topar.
Our final judge, Bob Thurber, enjoyed reading all of the finalists several times before deciding that ‘Just Down the Hall‘ “had qualities that glowed in the dark atmosphere and sense of dread the story presents. Nicely done.”
Congratulations to our winner!
Here’s a taste of Jeanette Topar’s winning story.
Truth was, Mrs. Cole had become a little afraid of 902. Late in the evenings she’d hear 902’s footsteps slide across the tiled hallway, hesitating outside her door. “Is this my place?” her neighbour would ask. Mrs. Cole would mute the volume on her TV and hold her breath as she sat quietly in her tidy living room waiting for the woman to shuffle away. The last few times Mrs. Cole had encountered her, 902 was wearing nothing but a gray slip that blended with the color of her skin and matched her hair…
Jeanette Topar receives $300 and publication of her haunting tale in Pulp Literature Issue 17, Winter 2018.
The Editor’s Choice
For the Editor’s Choice, we had to think very hard before selecting from the titles in the Hummingbird Prize long list. But we were united at last in selecting the moving story ‘The Bruised Peach’ by William Kaufmann. This story will also appear in Issue 17 of Pulp Literature, Winter 2018.
Congratulations to our winners. And a big thanks to our fine entrants. Our deep appreciation goes to final judge Bob Thurber and his keen judgement of flash fiction. Bob Thurber is known throughout the flash fiction universe for his intense, no-holds-barred storytelling, and is the author of Nickel Fictions: 50 Exceedingly Brief Stories, Paperboy: A Dysfunctional Novel, and Nothing But Trouble.
Our next contest, The Raven Short Story Contest, opens September 1st. Stay on top of all our contests by subscribing to our free newsletter.
After much deliberation, the editors are pleased to announce the shortlist for the 2017 Hummingbird Prize. In alphabetical order by story, the shortlist is as follows:
“A Pop of Purple” by Sarah Chamberlain
“All Day Every Day” by CE Mandybura
“Bequest” by Soramimi Hanarejima
“Choosing Guns” by Linda Kirkby
“Coasting” by Melanie Cossey
“Commonplace Permit” by Ella Christie
“Just Down the Hall” by Jeanette Topar
“Late Blight” by KT Wagner
“Pilgrimage” by Alex Reece Abbott
“The Bruised Peach” by William Kaufmann
“The Cure” by Salvatore Difalco
Congratulations to all the authors! The winner as chosen by Bob Thurber will be announced on July 15th.
The Hummingbird Flash Fiction Prize is open! But catch that earlybird now — entry fees go up on May 15th. Guidelines are here.
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