“A thrill tickles my belly when crickets sing on a dog-star evening or a hint of autumn wind sidles through the trees after a thunderstorm. The seasons remind me I’m constantly changing, and if my heart is open, my harvest will be bountiful.”
Chance encounter is an interesting phrase. What appears to be a random meeting might be fate or divine hands leading the way. But even if those meetings are a random collision of atoms, what matters is the choice we make when seemingly unconnected paths cross. And so it was, one summer in SoHo, NYC, a random crossing of paths. It began in a restaurant on Spring Street, a restaurant now sadly closed due to the pandemic. Over a meal of chili, my husband’s friend told us he was teaching a writing course not far from where we were dining. He must have seen the interest on my face because after describing the course, he said, “You should come.”
When I was a child I used to make books. I’d write and illustrate them, then bind them with staples and tape. One book even had a blue burlap cover with a cut-out title glued into place. But until that chili meal, I’d never thought about writing stories for people to read.
I joined our friend’s class and after a few courses managed to publish some short stories in literary magazines. Then I gave up. When the inevitable rejection letters rolled in, I wasn’t prepared. My confidence had taken a hit.
But I never gave up writing. Instead of submitting to magazines and publishers, I just tucked everything into a file on my computer. A few years later I figured out that the submitting game was a numbers game. It wasn’t personal, although it sure felt that way. It was also a great way to gauge my progress, if I was only brave enough to listen.
In 2023 I began to submit my stories again, and in the spring, I published my story “Slice of Pie” in The Avalon Literary Review. It was unexpected and reaffirming, and I thought, maybe I can do this after all. But it’s difficult, and I’ll be learning for the rest of my life. In Phantoms, Foxgloves & Fiction I share my love of books, nature, magic, supernatural art, and my own short stories and novel excepts. I love genre as well as literary fiction, and I enjoy sharing what I’ve learned or am trying to learn.
Follow along if you’d like to learn with me. I will enjoy the company, and we can ponder the phrase "chance encounter” together.
All Subscribers receive a newsletter once (and sometimes twice) a month containing flash fiction, writing tips, inspiration, book recommendations, and/or meditations on writing and art. There is a Paid option if you would like to support my writing, and it is always discounted (less than $5/month). Longer short stories and sometimes advanced peeks at my upcoming novels are also available to read for free, but disappear behind a pay ‘veil’ after a few weeks.
A word about the veil: First, I’m using the word veil instead of wall because I hate walls. Veils are mysterious, and with a little magic, they may be lifted. A veil of mist may vanish with the sun’s rays. A spiritual veil might part after drinking elderberry wine. Faeries will sometimes let us glimpse beyond the veil that separates our world from theirs, if we honor them with milk or honey. Lifting a veil is gentle, and if it involves magic, reciprocal. I like that Substack allows me to offer a discount on paid subscriptions, so when I set them up, I included a “Fairy Kiss Discount” as a thank you to everyone who’d like to support my writing. And even if you don’t support my writing in this way, I’m grateful you stopped by to read my posts.
Thanks so much for reading and for your support. I hope my words help you on your own creative journey and provide nourishment, encouragement and enjoyment!
Jan M. Alexander has published short stories in Peregrine, Primavera, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, Grasslimb (under another name), and The Avalon Literary Review. She enjoys writing different types of stories, including literary, fairy tale, paranormal, and ghost stories. In her spare time she nurtures orchids, paints watercolors, and enjoys walking with her husband in the wilds of New Jersey, USA.
