briannekohl
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I drove over Chicken Bridge with the radio blaring Ellie Goulding’s “Anything Can Happen”. It had to be loud because the straps holding the canoe on the roof of my car were vibrating like swarms of angry foul-mouthed bees. Errant sprinkles hit my windshield but the weather man had sworn up and down that…
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When I first started sending my stories out for submission, I joined Duotrope. Absolutely, if you are an aspiring writer submitting your work, I recommend this site. I wouldn’t be able to track my submissions as well on my own. It is a searchable database where writers can list stories, search for places to submit…
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I’ve been struggling just recently. Nothing too serious, nothing completely debilitating. Just a lack of inspiration. I write about water a lot and I think it is because writing is a very elemental thing for me. Inspiration typically comes from a word or a phrase associated with the four elements. It will get me going,…
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I have a new short story called Tintypes published at Ohio Edit. I am very excited and hope you enjoy reading it! http://ohioedit.com/2013/06/26/tintypes-short-fiction-by-brianne-kohl/
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Clouds were spun like sugar at a carnival, pure white puffs set against a brilliant blue sky. In those days, all the mysteries of the universe were quiet, a whisper lost in the wind. Grainy stalks of corn reached up from the loamy soil. A gravel driveway, shrouded by forest that lasted a mile in…
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“I didn’t ask for much,” he said in a voice of crushed rock. “I never asked for too much.” “You say that, man. You say that all the time, Ed. Problem is, ain’t no one left to care,” Detective Waters replied. Ed smiled over at the detective, a drowsy close-mouthed tightening of pink chapped lips.…
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Being Your Daughter Means… I can spot when someone is cheating at cards because of the countless ways your eyes would shift to my hand how bold your lies are in Gin Rummy and no where else. You will always quietly kick my tires or check my oil when I’m not looking Because, even though…
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The problem with introspection is that it has no end. – Philip K. Dick In 2003, I was accepted into the Southampton – Long Island University Master of Fine Arts program. Based on my fiction portfolio, I was offered a small scholarship of $1000 a semester. I’d attended the 2002 Southampton’s Writer’s Conference and fell in…
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Written in prolepsis, this novella tells the story of Kelly Kelleher, a young woman who meets a US Senator at a friend’s Fourth of July party. Only known as “The Senator,” a thinly veiled version of Ted Kennedy, Kelly finds herself in his car on the way to a romantic interlude. Kelly is an analogue…
Brianne M. Kohl 