Spencer is a talented young man with dreams of being a great ballet star—only, a knee injury is thwarting his ambitions. Madeleine is a talented young woman who longs to be a concert violinist but suffers from a lack of confidence. Their first connection—from afar—comes through mutual admiration. But something much more powerful than fandom is at play here.
Kara Molnar’s “Free,” one of the winners of this year’s Teen Writing Contest, is about the expansive power of art to inspire across disciplines and barrel through challenges both physical and psychological. It’s also a wonderful reminder that passion is infectious. We hope you enjoy Kara’s short story as much as we did.
To read an interview with the author, please visit our website.
When I was in high school, a friend of mine named James suddenly
passed away. I remember feeling torn, angry, bewildered. And as I processed my
grief, I began looking back in a way I never had before. It was more than just
not having any future moments with James to look forward to; it was the (very
new to me, then) phenomenon of having death illuminate life in a way that only
death can. For the first time, I became aware of the value—the treasure
trove—of the past. I looked back with purpose, one could almost say with a
mission: my memories of James—memories that stretched back to junior high and
went up to the day before he died—were
James. Wrapping my head around that was a big (and uninvited) nudge toward
Our new issue of One Teen Story wanders into similar territory. It’s called “Cicatriz” and is written by a wonderful emerging writer named Juliet Cushing. I won’t go into detail about it because I think it speaks beautifully for itself, but I will say that it takes a painful situation and illuminates it in a way that radiates off the page. The writing turns tragedy into art. “Cicatriz” is one of the winners of this year’s Teen Writing Contest. We’re proud to be presenting it to you.
Two young soldiers from opposite sides of a battlefield meet in No Man’s Land with their hands raised. Others from both sides join them. So begins the Christmas Truce of WWI.
When I asked Emma Caton, author of the latest issue of One Teen Story, what drew her to the subject matter, she talked in our Q&A about the amount of hatred that “has to be present in order to go to war,” and yet the soldiers involved in the event were able to suspend their hatred for a few hours of peace and comradery. That fascinated her. And then she took it a step further and gave her young soldiers—one German, one British—a spark of romantic interest.
I was impressed by how swiftly this story moves, how deeply it cuts, and how sparsely it’s told. Emma had the idea from the get-go to write a love story, and she’s done just that. At the same time, she hasn’t shied away from the challenges these two young men face. The result is “And the War Stopped”—a powerful story of connection and longing in the most unlikely of circumstances, and one of the winners of our Teen Writing Contest. We hope you enjoy it as much as we did.
Our new issue, “The Dreamer’s Litany,” reaches for an
answer to a very difficult question: What happens when the heart cannot have
what it desires?
Auwal is a struggling shopkeeper with a wife, a daughter,
and a dream of a better life. When he meets the gregarious Chief, he sees a man
who might be able to help them. But Chief wants something in return—something
he intuits Auwal might be able to provide no matter how reluctant he is. As
their lives begin to overlap more and more, the complexities of their
less-than-ideal arrangement grow. Auwal is no stranger to hardship, nor is he a
stranger to a broken heart. He wants to do well, do better. But is Chief a path
toward betterment, or a fast track in the opposite direction?
One Story is thrilled to be publishing Arinze Afeakandu, a young writer who was one of A Public Space’s Emerging Writer fellows and a finalist for the Caine Prize. “The Dreamer’s Litany” is a tense and fractured love story full of unexpected twists and turns that often take place away from home, after the sun goes down. As the author says in our Q&A, “At night, people will surprise you, surprise even themselves.”
Our new issue drops us down into the world of a Florida hotel that caters to clients interested in long-term residency for the sake of ensuring U.S. citizenship for soon-to-be-born babies. In other words, the birth tourism industry. And while it’s strange enough to consider a hotel where, on a regular basis, one person checks into a room and two people check out, stranger still is the appearance of a series of threatening, anonymous notes slipped under residents’ doors. Everyone has a different theory about who the culprit is. The manager, whose suspicions include (but are not limited to) her estranged nephew, starts sleeping with a vegetable knife clutched in her fist just in case things get dicey.
Ayşe Papatya Bucak’s “Good Fortune” is many things at once: laced with humor, sprinkled with menace, peppered with false clues, and ghosted with memories of long-lost family members. We’re delighted to be ushering it into the world, and we look forward to reading more from this emerging, energetic writer.
In the summer of 1991, I was a year out of graduate school, living in Virginia, painting houses, and working in an independent bookstore. The stock was mostly new books and, upstairs, some used books, and on slow days I would peruse the shelves and read the first pages of novels. I came across a book called Unknown Soldiers, published in 1977 and written by a writer named John Rolfe Gardiner. The first page held my interest, so I carried it back to my spot behind the register. By the end of the second chapter, I knew I was going to finish the book and wanted to own it, so I rang up the sale on the cash register, put my money in the drawer, and continued reading.
A couple of hours later, I was well into the novel when the bell over the front door jangled, and when I glanced up, the author of the very book I was holding walked into the store. I looked at him, looked at book’s author photo, looked at him again. I said, “This is you, isn’t it?” He seemed somewhat sheepish and confirmed that it was, indeed, him, and I—as star-struck as if I were meeting a beloved movie star—began to heap praise on this novel that he’d written fourteen years earlier. We talked for just a few minutes, and at my request, he signed the book. As I write this introduction, twenty-seven years later, that same book is sitting on a shelf a few feet away from my desk, along with all of his other books.
One Story is immensely honored to be publishing a new short story by John Rolfe Gardiner: a writer of profound abilities and agilities; a writer who has proven himself to be a master of the novel, the novella, and the short story over the course of the last four decades; a writer who remains at the top of his game to this day and who deserves to be widely read. “Freak Corner,” a story set in 1953 about a deaf girl, a cross-dresser, and a young man trying to figure out why the world reacts to them both the way it does, echoes much of our current landscape. We fear and vilify the unfamiliar now as much as we ever did. As the author says in our Q&A, “the path to reform is by way of familiarity.”
Greetings, readers! Our new issue is about—well, it’s hard to say what it’s about without spoiling some of the most wonderful things in store for you, so I’ll try to tap-dance through this delicately: “Wash & Fold” is about what happens when two strangers come together in a laundromat, encounter an unusual situation that has nothing to do with either of them, and do something about it that changes them both.
When I read “Wash & Fold,” I’m filled with admiration for the writing, the technique, the humor, the precise observations of humans and human interaction. But I’m also happily caught up in the narrative tug that carries this delightful tale from beginning to end. In our Q&A, Katherine Hubbard tells us that she found herself using “a storyteller’s voice” when writing the early drafts, and while that might sound like an obvious thing for a writer to use, it isn’t, and it allowed her to step into and out of various characters’ points of view so fluidly that the reading experience is buoyant from beginning to end.
We’re very happy to be putting a story by Katherine Hubbard into your hands, and we hope you enjoy it as much as we do.
The game is life. Life is the game. So it is for the main character in Carlie Schwarm’s “Press Space to Continue,” one of the winning stories in our Teen Writing Contest. The game, in this case, doesn’t involve chases through forests or mortal combat or even a group of obsessed athletes wanting their team to succeed. The game is on-screen (or is it?) and is being played alone (maybe) by a kid named Owen. Only, the boundaries have blurred. Where does the game stop and Owen’s life resume?
And then there’s William, the young man who is suddenly there in the game with Owen, or is suddenly there in Owen’s life, or is—somehow—in both.
When I asked Carlie Schwarm, in our Q&A, if she left some of these things deliberately vague, the answer was a confident yes—even while she told me the original draft of the story was nearly five times the length it is now. I love a story that has the guts to remain a little vague, and I love a story that raises questions and leaves some of those questions unanswered, allowing the reader to take part by speculating. “Press Space to Continue” does both of those things to great effect. We’re excited to introduce you to Owen and his game.
Amazing things happen in Brayden Mekertichian’s “Burning, in You.” In a series of short, powerful sections, we’re swept through seven years in the life of a young woman, from the age of thirteen to the age of twenty. We’re with her when she’s high, we’re with her when she’s low, and we’re with her when she’s lower than low. And yet, somehow, there’s humor in this story. There’s bravado peppered with fear. Confusion salted with insight. It’s a portrait in mosaic of what can occur when a young person’s self-image, sense of self-worth, and tendencies towards self-indulgence collide. The gaps are enormous. The ending is mysterious. The emotional import is colossal. I admire this story as much for what it leaves out as for what it includes, and we’re delighted to honor it as one of the winners of our Teen Writing Contest.
To read an interview with the author, please visit our website.
Is it bad form for a ghost to look over your shoulder
while you’re typing an email? Do ghosts need therapy? How do ghosts have sex?
These are the kinds of questions that rolled around in Chris Vanjonack’s head
before he started writing “Phases.” Henry, the story’s narrator, had an
unfortunate encounter with a lightning bolt sometime back. Now, his “life”
consists of wandering the planet, walking through walls, and watching his
ex-girlfriend get over him. And dating—sort of.
Henry is lonely but surrounded by other ghosts. He’s impatient but not even sure what he’s waiting for. And for all his mobility and freedom, he’s overwhelmed by limitations. As the author states in our Q&A, ghostdom, as he imagined it, became “a potent metaphor for depression, or for ennui, or loneliness, or even aging. No one can see me. I can’t make a difference. I don’t feel the way I used to. I can’t feel anything.” But don’t be misled. “Phases” is no downer. In fact, it’s charged with wit and humor, and it’s fueled by a voice packed with charm. There’s a forward lean to the earnestness in Chris Vanjonack’s writing, and it shines through in this story. We’re delighted to welcome him into the One Story family.