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Ghost HourGhost Hour. Illustration: Alice Popkorn

Submissions Closed!

The Ghost Story Supernatural Fiction Award competition is now closed to submissions. Response was fantastic, with story entries pouring in from around the world. Thanks to everyone who participated. We’ll be announcing (and publishing) our winner and two honorable mentions on Midsummer’s Eve, in June. Visit our contest page for information about the next Ghost Story Supernatural Fiction Award competition.


The Sun Sets At Stonehenge

The Sun Sets At Stonehenge

Writers From The United Kingdom Won All Three Prizes In The Screw Turn Flash Fiction Competition

Writers in Britain obviously have a knack for the supernatural. In The Ghost Story‘s new Screw Turn Flash Fiction Competition, which concluded January 31, all three cash awards for flash fiction (short-short stories of under 1,000 words) on a supernatural or magic realism theme went to authors living in England and Scotland.

Scroll down through TGS‘s Home Page to read these three fine stories.

Winning honors in the competition—and its $300 first prize—went to CL Dalkin, a librarian living on the south coast of England, for her story, “A Brief Respite.”

First Honorable Mention and a $100 cash award went to Barry Charman, of North London, for his story, “Palette.”

And Second Honorable Mention, with a $50 prize, was taken by Stuart Riding of Edinburgh, Scotland, for “Kitsune.”

Our next fiction contest is The Ghost Story Supernatural Fiction Award, for which we begin accepting submissions on February 15. Prizes are $1,000, $250, and $100 for full-length short stories of between 1.500 and 10,000 words.


The 2016 Screw Turn Flash Fiction Competition


It was over. After seven long years, he’d done it. Seven years of mad, unhinged, up-and-down emotions. A rollercoaster, his sister had said.

He’d ended it the only way he knew how. By packing a rucksack and walking out. Everything else belonged to her anyway. Just the shirt on his back—light as a feather, mate. It felt good. Closed the front door—click! And he was off. Very satisfying.

Oh, all right, there had been a bit of a fight. She’d flown at him—screaming, pleading—and he was propelled backwards, over the arm of the sofa, taking her with him. [click to continue…]


The 2016 Screw Turn Flash Fiction Competition


The conditions were challenging, but Suzette didn’t mind. Exhilaration had a price, easily paid. Ever since she’d first glimpsed the field, driving past all those months ago, all she’d been able to think of was painting it. She set up on a small ridge so she could see the field fully as it extended into the distance. A river of golden wheat, glowing like a sea beneath a sun. The wind blew colours her way. The view seemed to change by the moment. Down at the far end of the field an old black mill, hunched like a wounded animal, was the only thing that seemed to stay in place. At least, until she noticed the figure. A man, she thought, some local? He was just standing there, unmoving. She continued to paint, greys now whirling into black—such a sky—but his fixed presence began to distract her. She almost thought of going down to talk to him, when she suddenly realized it must be a scarecrow. Of course. Some farmer must have added it after she’d first scouted the field. It was annoying, but she could overlook it. [click to continue…]