Thank you very much to Marie Gethins, our 30th Award judge, for her dedication to the task and for her great selections and insightful comments. Her comments on the stories are below. All the stories are published on this website and will be included in our 10th anniversary anthology, along with longlisted and shortlisted stories to be published later this year (or early next).
Judge Notes
Hitting that submit button is always an act of writerly courage and I applaud the spirit of all who entered this round of the Bath Flash Fiction Award. It’s been a privilege to read this rich array of flash. The fifty longlisted pieces revealed a wide range of approaches and areas of focus. Great to see historical, as well as contemporary, settings in the mix. Narrowing it down to twenty was difficult and winnowing it to the final five a true challenge. All stories were read and reread multiple times, mused over during long walks and a few even entered my dreams. Judging is inevitably a reflection of personal taste, writing/submitting often a test of perseverance. For those that didn’t make the final cut, keep going!
First Place: The City of Los Angeles is on Tactical Alert
The confluence of a sociocultural event with a deeply personal moment is deftly interwoven for devastating effect. Using anaphora for rhythm and emphasis, the author guides the reader on a relentless, emotional journey encompassing anticipation, joy, frustration, anger, fear and resolve. The flash reaps new rewards upon multiple readings. Precise word choice, mix of sentence lengths, and most importantly the careful thematic interlacing of public protest/law enforcement actions with differing parental response to a daughter taking her first steps results in a compelling final line: ‘This is all of us on tactical alert.’ A superb piece that is topical but destined to become a future touchstone.
Second Place: Psalm (After the Animals)
Beautifully framed by the protagonist’s well-loved, deceased dog, this lyrical and musical flash uses language to great effect with a powerful voice. The author conjures a mystical landscape with ‘moss that glows like bruised saints’ and ‘cedar tongues peel back from bark’. A full life is encompassed within a succinct, well-paced story that uses white space for excellent impact. Descriptions surprise and entice. The woman’s grief is palpable with the reader too welcoming the phantom dog’s return in ‘rainlight, tongue wild, eyes full of god’. A sacred song indeed.
An excellent title does a lot of heavy lifting here, settling the reader in time at the start, but adding nuance after the conclusion. The author skilfully provides a wonderful, atmospheric voice with historical vernacular for setting and era, while maintaining a clear storyline. Vivid descriptions place the reader in bed with the narrator during a storm, on the way to church and on the shore to witness the ‘revelation’. Lovely metaphors are sprinkled throughout: ‘thunder crashing loud as doomsday’, ‘grin as long as a flagpole, ‘teeth as big as bairns’. An intriguing historical flash.
Negative considers grief with a husband’s response to his wife’s death via analogue photography. The concepts of light/dark and black/white are well wrought as the couple’s two sons try to navigate their father’s new hobby as his method of coping with loss. Yet, after his death the film negative strips reveal insights into their own grief.
Viewed through a child’s eyes, the flash relates the story of a mother’s grief after child loss and the father’s struggles to maintain family life when his wife disappears. An evocative conclusion with the narrator giving a mature observation of hope.
