Review of Shane Inman, “Disinternment,” Flash Fiction Online 147 (January 2026): 26-27 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Content note: Death of a parent.
Ooof. It’s quite incredible how hard a punch Inman can pack in just two pages.
Short Reviews of Short SFF
Review of Shane Inman, “Disinternment,” Flash Fiction Online 147 (January 2026): 26-27 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Content note: Death of a parent.
Ooof. It’s quite incredible how hard a punch Inman can pack in just two pages.
Review of Caspian Drake, “Death is a Black Door in the Ghetto,” Flash Fiction Online 147 (January 2026): 14-17 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Content note: Drug use and abuse.
For all that this story is labelled by the editor as “horror,” I found it actually to be a redemptive story, full of love and forgiveness.
Review of MM Schreier, “Stairs For Mermaids,” Flash Fiction Online 147 (January 2026): 10-13 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Content note: suicide.
This is a story about big sisters and little sisters, and the first-person plural narrator lends the story an edge of universality, telling the reader that this is what all big-sister-little-sister relationships are like. I don’t know if I would have enjoyed this story more or less if the relationship the narrator depicted as universal at all resembled my own big-sister-little-sister; would the story have been more resonant, or less, if I had been the kind of little sister that the narrator seems to think all little sisters are? I don’t know.
Review of Jay McKenzie, “What to Buy For Your Husband of Thirty-Seven Years For His Birthday,” Flash Fiction Online 147 (January 2026): 7-8 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
What a sad, disappointing story of sad, disappointing heteronormativity.
Review of Jessie Roy, “Rice Child, Dragon Child,” Flash Fiction Online 147 (January 2026): 22-25 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
This felt a bit like a modern day “Sophie’s Choice,” with the narrator forced to decide between the future of her dreams and a future of security, each choice coming with its own hidden, unknown costs. I loved the setting and the central plot mechanism — the narrator’s gogok that can slice dreams away from one person, preserving them to give to another.
Review of Erin Brandt Filliter, “Swampland,” Flash Fiction Online 147 (January 2026): 19-20 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
This story was classed as “literary,” but in fact it is quite speculative — the first page left me a bit worried that it would just be an ordinary, descriptive, literary story, but the second page takes that step away from reality and mere descriptive and dives into consequences: Why any of it matters. Definitely enjoyed the second half much more than the first!
Review of Brian Howlett, “The Kill Registry,” After Dinner Conversation 3, no. 12 (December 2022): 67-80 — Subscribe here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Content note: Murder, domestic abuse.
This is the sort of spec fic I love: Take an outrageous premise, and see where it leads. In this case, the outrageous premise is “everyone gets one bullet — one free kill that they can use at any point in their life, no questions asked, no consequences.” (The most unrealistic part of it was the story behind how the premise got implemented in the first place — a Louisiana politician took the idea from a Geneva PhD student, and America loved it. When will America ever voluntarily limit the number of people one can shoot with impunity?)
Howlett combined this premise with some decent writing quality, making this one of the most fun stories I read in this issue. The only thing that let me down was how dumb the narrator’s use of his bullet was, in the end. It was just plain old misogyny.
Review of Thomas J. Weiss, “The Bargain,” After Dinner Conversation 3, no. 12 (December 2022): 48-65 — Subscribe here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
This was an intriguing “first contact/take me to your leader” story. Neither of the characters involved in the titular bargain are involved out of choice, and both hope to reach the same outcome, which makes the bargain particularly interesting. With richer characters and more of an actual storyline, this was one of the stronger stories in this issue. While bits of it made it clear how white-western the viewpoint it was written from was, it was also clear that the author tried to diversify the cast list. A solid effort.
Review of Alan Winnikoff, “Male Privilege,” After Dinner Conversation 3, no. 12 (December 2022): 27-46 — Subscribe here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
(Note: After Dinner Conversation pairs spec fic stories with philosophical reflection questions. In some reviews, I’ll engage with the questions; in some, I won’t.)
Content note: Sexual assault.
I really did not enjoy this story: Brendon, the main character, has no redeeming qualities. For most of the story, I wasn’t 100% convinced that I was supposed to enjoy it, that Brendon was supposed to generate any sympathy in me or that I should’ve expected any female character in it to be anything other than a foil for a man.
But the opening discussion question asks (paraphrased) “but, really, did he really do anything wrong?” which is a question that can only be asked by someone who thinks there is a possibility that the answer is “no”. So apparently someone must’ve thought there was a shred of acceptability in Brendon.
I try to keep my reviews relatively measured, even for stories that I don’t like. But with this one, I feel compelled to say: Don’t read it.
Review of Veronica L. Asay, “Mrs. Robinson,” After Dinner Conversation 3, no. 12 (December 2022): 5-25 — Subscribe here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
(Note: After Dinner Conversation pairs spec fic stories with philosophical reflection questions. In some reviews, I’ll engage with the questions; in some, I won’t.)
This was a proper Gothic tale, hitting the right notes of ludicrousness and horror, and providing a suitable setting for the moral quandary that Asay wanted to interrogate. The final reflection question paired with this story, “To what extent should we judge Benedict or the narrator by modern values given that they were working within the unjust rules of inheritance and prejudice of their time
period?”, is one of the more interesting questions that have been asked concerning the stories I’ve read in this issue, and I suspect is one that would lead to lively conversation.