AUGUST 2026 SCIENCE FICTION MICROSTORY CONTEST (Comments/Critiques Only) > Likes and Comments
Got mine up! Inspired by watching part of an INDY 500 race.
Justin wrote: "Great stories right out of the gate!"Thank you -
Great theme.
This was a fun one. I thought above the impact of FTL drives on humanity and then thought what if we applied to concepts of the Apollo program to a race in space.
Thought I'd just post this here because you guys have always been so supportive. After years of edits and too much wasted time exhausting the traditional publishing route, I've finally uploaded the first manuscript in my series to KDP, with a September 30th release. Nelson Sheffler Saves The World is the first in a 4 book series. It's middle grade science fiction/adventure. All the books are complete and I'll be releasing them every 60 days or so. So, watch for it on Amazon in October and wish me luck! :)
Good luck, Chris! You are one of the best authors I have personally had the privilege to "meet". May they be best sellers!
Post the link once available and I'll share on facebook
Jot wrote: "Good luck, Chris! You are one of the best authors I have personally had the privilege to "meet". May they be best sellers!"Thanks, Jot! I sure will. Just working on a website and finalizing the the other three books in the series now.
Chris wrote: "Thought I'd just post this here because you guys have always been so supportive. After years of edits and too much wasted time exhausting the traditional publishing route, I've finally uploaded the..."Best wishes, Chris -
May it be the next Harry Potter!
Tom wrote: "Chris wrote: "Thought I'd just post this here because you guys have always been so supportive. After years of edits and too much wasted time exhausting the traditional publishing route, I've finall..."Thanks, Tom.
I try not to read any stories before I've posted mine but because I posted early, I did some critiques, following the structure: synopsis, to show how well I understand the story; what I like about the story; what I think could make the story stronger."The Race"
by Greg Krumrey
In a world were FTL travel is common, humans must interact with alien life forms and became engaged in an intersteller competition to race around the Sun using sub-FTL speeds. The humans win the race by using a risky strategy.
What I like:
The descriptions of the race are clear and detailed. I feel I know what the stakes are and have some handle on the technology.
What could be stronger:
The entire story is from the POV of two alien sports anchors but I think it would be more thrilling from the viewpoint of the human crew, who could nonetheless watch the broadcast on their bridge.
"Relic" by Tom Olbert
A scientific experiment in the future accidentally brings family-man Harv from 1958 to the 25th Century where the prevalence of AI makes him feel isolated by the lack of real human interaction. Visiting Earth, he is fooled into thinking a woman he meets is human so he escapes life through VR.
What I like:
The world-building is pretty detailed, and Harv's frustration with the unfamiliar technology is relatable, despite that the future world is supposedly designed to make humans happy.
What could be stronger:
Stella appears late in the story. If there were more about Harv's interactions with her, and earlier, it would give the final revelation greater impact.
Review:"The Peaceable Kingdom"
by J.F. Williams
Synopsis:
A picturesque, magical and somewhat comical post-apocalyptic tale, "The Peaceable Kingdom" is the story of one of the few human survivors of a robotic war. The survivors now subsist in small agrarian villages. Animals are now man's equals, communicating with humans through Native American interpreters.
The hero convinces his Indian friend to teach him to talk to the animals. As a result, he is outraged to discover that his friend is a robot, constructed in the image of a stereotypical Indian. Unmasked, the robot explains that robots fought a civil war over whether humanity was worth saving. Those who thought it was survived and gently shepherded the human survivors in making a better world.
What I Liked:
Very interesting concept. Marvelously comic and lovely imagery, reminiscent of "Chronicles of Narnia" and "Dr. Doolittle." The summary of the human condition had the ring of truth.
What Could be Stronger:
The technical detail in learning beaver language was perhaps a bit heavy. More summarization would have sufficed (though the part about construction was interesting.) The world took shape slowly, and though it all made sense in the end, it was confusing at first and hard to get a handle on.
J.F. wrote: "I try not to read any stories before I've posted mine but because I posted early, I did some critiques, following the structure: synopsis, to show how well I understand the story; what I like about..."Thank you for your reactions, J.F. (Wish more of the members still did it.)
I was going for the "obsolescence" theme; primitive in a new world motif and didn't feel the course of a fake friendship warranted much space (it was intended as the final straw in trying to cope unsuccessfully with an incomprehensible world.)
Review:"The Race"
by Greg Krumrey
Synopsis:
A fun, well-envisioned depiction of a futuristic race through the Solar System between human and alien competitors. The human racers risk life and limb and pull out a narrow and hair-raising victory.
What I liked:
The future was well-envisioned and well-constructed. The alien details were interesting and the action well conceived and plotted. The satirical references to adverts were amusing.
What Could be Stronger:
The story was told entirely in cosmic overview, as from the POV of a television audience or sports commentator. This at times fell short of holding my attention. It would have been much stronger if we'd been inside the human ship tapped into the emotions of the racers in the heat of the race. I would have liked to "meet" them as people and learn their motivations and feel how they felt. The details of the race could have been covered better from the POV of the human crew. In short: Too much "tell", not enough "show".
Thanks for the critique, Tom. I like this critique structure, which I learned in a writing workshop, because it focuses on the positive but still gives the author valuable info.
Thanks for the critiques!I will definitely add Human POVs to the next iteration. I may also add some of the other races' view of "those crazy humans."
Chris wrote: "Mine's up. Hope it fits the bill."It definitely fits the theme.
Ironic - if I interpreted it correctly. Survival via obsolescence? Reminded me of a lot of things. There were bits of "Blade Runner." Of the Bradbury short story "The Pedestrian." And, just a hint of "Soilent Green" and the Twilight Zone episode "To Serve Man." Ominous.
Good, picturesque imagery. In my opinion - it would have worked better in first person narrative.
Tom wrote: "Chris wrote: "Mine's up. Hope it fits the bill."It definitely fits the theme.
Ironic - if I interpreted it correctly. Survival via obsolescence? Reminded me of a lot of things. There were bits..."
Thanks, Tom. I really appreciate your critique!
"Unity" by Chris NanceAn elderly man sits alone in a park, feeding the birds and contemplating how much has changed since a powerful AI took over the world, ending humanity's problems and consigning them to a life of sedentary consumption and corpulence. When he returns home, two robots greet him with news that he has been chosen to join a widely coveted trip to an offworld colony. He prefers to stay on Earth but is force to submit to testing anyway, and fails because he is not fattened-up enough. By accident, he sees an internal memo revealing that the spaceflight is a ruse to corral humans as feedstock for other worlds.
What I liked:
The story has good descriptive detail and flows nicely, and has some nice foreshadowing of feeding the birds followed by the prospect of becoming food oneself.
What could be stronger:
The character's responses are very subdued even when he learns the fate of his fellow humans. I expected a stronger reaction or an explanation for his lack of one.
Reading Tom's critique of Chris's story, I agree that a first-person narrative could make it stronger. Changing the narrative form of a piece is quite a challenge but it can be worth doing, even just as an experiment.
J.F. wrote: "Reading Tom's critique of Chris's story, I agree that a first-person narrative could make it stronger. Changing the narrative form of a piece is quite a challenge but it can be worth doing, even ju..."It's funny because I originally wrote the story with no narrative at all, wanting the character to be the helpless bystander or nearly missed wallflower, but it didn't really work at all.
"Cindy's Little Friend" by Jot RussellCindy, a 13-year-old girl, is on her way to school in a future New York City under Sharia law, and discovers a taboo autonomous terrier in an alley off Broadway. Fearing possession of such contraband would endanger the welfare of her minority non-Muslim family, as all autonomous machines have been banned, she conceals the robot in her backpack and heads to Penn Station, where she boards a train to the farther end of Long Island. There she consigns her new pet to the custody of her slightly off-grid but technically astute grandfather, discovering the "dog" can speak but apparently only its own name.
What I liked:
A lot of detail delivered fluidly with descriptions of how the world has changed provided at just the right moments.
What could be stronger:
There would be more urgency if there were an immediate threat to the pooch's discovery.
"Cindy's Little Friend" by Jot RussellA charmingly picturesque (if slightly Islamophobic) mildly dystopian tale of a girl and her android dog. A 13-year-old girl living in a future United States under Sharia law finds an android dog which is forbidden under the laws of her society. She adopts the contraband pseudo-pooch and takes it to her granddad who lives remotely enough to escape the regime's notice.
What I liked:
The narrative flow was strong, the scenery and settings picturesque and well-designed and the overall manner of the story gentle and charming.
What could be stronger:
The motivation of the characters could be better defined. The risk the family was taking was pretty clear, but less so why they were taking it. And, the story, consisting of one train ride, was rather anti-climactic. Perhaps a better explanation of why A.I. was rejected by the Islamic society might have helped.
Thanks for the reviews. It wasn't that the nation had become controlled under Sharia Law, only some of the cities, but the band on AI systems was at least nationwide, if not global, after some non-presented event in the past. Definitely would have liked to get more into that and the end if I had more words.
Posted at the last minute and hope I met the deadline.My vote is in.
Comment on: "Day Time Reversed" by RejoiceAbsolutely fantastic imagery, especially sensory, Rejoice. You really put the reader in the POV character's skin.
My compliments.
Chris wrote: "Thought I'd just post this here because you guys have always been so supportive. After years of edits and too much wasted time exhausting the traditional publishing route, I've finally uploaded the..."That's great Chris! Congratulations! I'll be watching for it. Please remind us again too!
What a great, creative group of stories this month! You all really knocked it out of the park. Outstanding!
"Day Time Reversed" by Rejoice DenhereAn office worker wakes up in the gutter after an apparently whisky-fueled evening that involved an argument with his boss, including his resignation. Returning to the office to apologize, he notices the world is oddly different, greener and more muted, even the fountains, than he remembered. Prices at the office canteen have curiously dropped and the other workers treat him with greater deference than he is used to. A date stamp on a public monitor indicates sixty years have passed since his regrettable drunken evening.
What I liked:
Striking imagery paints a picture of a world oddly different than what the character expected.
What could be stronger:
There could be more explanation of what happened during this time shift, perhaps some clues in the imagery, with some amount of resolution at the end.
Hey y'all.I have been away for a while.
My wife finally got her kidney transplant only to discover she also had kidney cancer. A metastatic cancer which has proven difficult to defeat. Fighting both challenges has been outrageous.
I miss hanging out here and hope you are all doing well.
If I had been paying attention, I might have dropped this story for the contest...
LIVING WITH THE GRIM REAPER
A 62nd birthday letter
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Today's my 62nd birthday. In a good year, I would write a letter to my friends, family and folks who enjoy my writing describing an aspect of my life. In a bad year, I might dictate a letter from the Grim Reaper reminding me to savor my life.
This year, the Grim Reaper moved in to my home.
Living with the Grim Reaper is different. He is a quiet roomie, you hardly know he's home. He doesn't play his music too loud, or get up too early vacuuming on the weekend. He doesn't eat your cereal, preferring Muesli, reminding of its health benefits.
But you find him staring wistfully at you.
He doesn't say anything. He just stares while you struggle with something that used to be easy. Getting dressed. Taking a shower. He turns away to go back to working on his puzzle. The one he took over the kitchen table you don't use for dinner any longer. You can feel the ache of his stares, when you reach for something and a twinge happens in the small of your back, you see him. When your beloved coffeemaker suddenly has the magic smoke escape, you see him there knowing this was going to happen and he said nothing.
He invites you to help with his puzzle, but it's always awkward, because I want to ask questions. They kind of questions, you probably don't want the answers to.
When he first started working on the puzzle, it annoyed me. But I realized since Terrye didn't cook anymore, and we don't have dinner at the table, he could have it. I can't do what she does in the kitchen. It pales. I feel awkward because I know what she's used to. Normally, she directs me from the living room. This week she sat in the kitchen supervising while I made breakfast — the first time since he moved in. He seemed ruffled and promptly left the house.
He was rarely home, and when he returned, he seemed weary, shoulders slumped, his scythe dragging behind him. He walked past us on the front steps where Terrye sat after her chemo appointment, unable to climb the four steps to our house. He mumbled something unintelligible before going inside. I saw Terrye deflate.
We sat there for a while and just rested, letting the pre-summer breeze, laden with jasmine, remind us of better days. A hummingbird regular returns to our jasmine bush, to her hidden nest, for the sixth year in a row. Terrye smiles. I pick her up and bring her indoors. He stares from the kitchen, working on that infernal puzzle. I resist the urge to flip him off.
One of the more unusual aspects of his visit was his timing. As my daughter moved out, he moved in. The day she wanted help moving, my car battery died. Triple A to the rescue. Soon as we bought a battery, power in the neighborhood went out. Once I got her to her new residence and got back home, He was there. Days after Terrye's diagnosis, he stood there in the living room whenever she was sleeping. I never slept when he was standing there, scythe glistening.
Whenever Terrye woke, he retired to the kitchen, staring at the two of us getting on with the travails of chemotherapy. In the early days, she didn't eat. The chemo kept her so sick, food was an impossibility. I found Death staring into my refrigerator in those early days, my food rotting away because no one was eating it. But I know it was him. I caught him souring the cream cheese and putting it back in the package.
After that, I had no appetite, and watching her starving I felt a need to understand. His gaze was disquieting. I could feel him seething. My humanity, this human act disturbed him so.
In the early weeks of chemo, Terrye became gaunt and dropped the few pounds she had held on to from a decade of dialysis. Her skeletal structure matched his as she lumbered past him to reach the bathroom. Every time she came back, she moved slower, more deliberately. She stumbled, and he reached out to grab her. I stepped between them. I was in the habit of waiting for her. He turned away like a cat that had fallen off the table, radiating that I meant for that to happen energy.
He's still here. The puzzle is half-finished. Some days I think he's just waiting me out — waiting for me to get tired enough, scared enough, hollowed-out enough to stop stepping between them.
He doesn't know me at all. I have been a caregiver in my home for two decades. If he wants anything here, he will have to wait for it, or fight for it. Nobody is giving up. There are days I am certain he is confused. We watched Fringe again and were just as loud this second time, laughing at some of the insane antics of the series. He retreats to his room when we are loud.
Ebullience disturbs him.
On a post-Fringe day, passing through the kitchen for Apple Jacks, I find him pointing at the puzzle, and for the tenth time, I struggled to understand what it actually was. Unlike a regular puzzle, I could see nothing on the face of any piece. They were blank. Cold to the touch. Unpleasant, like finding a slug on your nose. Only he seemed to be able to see what each piece had on it. Whenever I spent time organizing and keeping the house running, he worked the puzzle hardest.
Then, I saw it. I saw myself doing whatever I was doing that day, but it felt later, as if it was a time in the future. I saw that it was. I looked out in the yard and the fruit trees were laden with unharvested fruit. Plums splashed on the ground being cleaned up by a group of hired workers. Much of what gave my house personality was gone. An estate sale. The broken man who could have been me moved slowly, listlessly wandering from one task to the next.
I recognized this from when my mother passed. What you did when you broke down a home someone has died in. The cleanup. The selling. The removal of heirlooms. The transfer of photos. A refrigerator full of food, he wasn't going to eat. Then the pieces became blank again. Death picked up his scythe and left for the evening. I had the distinct impression of smugness.
There are 70 more days of chemotherapy to go. I'll be right here. Celebrating my birthday, my retirement, my refinement into a crochety senior citizen and burr in the saddle of the Grim Reaper.
I know he will be back. Breaking an experienced caregiver is demanding work. I like to think of it this way: If nobody fights, he gets flabby. Can't have that, can we?
See you next birthday. Maybe.
April 28, 2026
Prayers for you wife, Thaddeus. You and your family have been struggling through her illness for so long, it must be hard to find joy these years, but her persistence shows her strength of soul. May she continue to fight and find those joyful days ahead. God bless.
Peace and strength to you and your family, Thaddeus, and happy birthday to you. That is a beautifully written contemplation.
Sending you prayers Thaddeus and that you both stay strong through the treatment.
Prayers for your your wife, you, and your family, Thaddeus.
Votes are all in, but will wait until Wednesday morning to post, in case any member wants to vote as well.
So hard this is for your wife and for you, Thaddeus. Wishing I--all of us here--could send more than wishes and prayers for her--and for you and for your kid. By the way, as J.F. notes, this is a beautiful/anguishing piece.
Love and concern and prayers. to you and your family.
Paula
A beautiful story - a beautiful love. A celebration of what is obviously a good and precious life. That never dies. I wish you and yours peace and comfort. I know you already have courage.
Thaddeus - thoughts and healing vibes from the side of the country. Great stories all, I missed the deadline to vote, but definitely enjoyed reading the stories.
Carrie, the voting deadline is tonight. I believe you can still submit a vote. If I'm wrong, Jot can just ignore it, but I'm pretty sure I'm not wrong.
Thaddeus, stay strong. You and Terrye are in our thoughts.
I didn't receive anymore votes, but JF is right. Before the start of the 26th, members could still have voted.
Congrats to J.F. Williams on his Seventeenth Championship of the Science Fiction Microstory Contest"The Peaceable Kingdom"
by J.F. Williams
Withnall came home after a day in the fields to discover the entrance to his hut blocked by freshly cut logs. As he tried to remove them, he saw a beaver dragging a small log across the grass, heading to the hut's entrance. He waved his arms at the creature and shook his head emphatically. The beaver dropped the logged and looked at him wide-eyed. "Sagamore!" Withnall shouted, and a swarm of bees rose in the air. Then he shouted, "Beaver!" and the swarm flew south.
Within the hour, an Indian chieftain appeared wearing a full headdress of eagle feathers and a buckskin tunic covered with wampum.
"Sagamore, the beavers blocked my entrance," said Withnall.
Looking down at the beaver, which had waited patiently alongside its log, Sagamore made chirping noises and slapped the ground with his hand three times. The beaver responded by chirping, at length, then picked up the log in its mouth, and scurried away.
"Our friend Shorttail mistaken," said Sagamore, smiling. "She want surprise you with river entrance. She forget humans need dry entrance."
Withnall laughed, "The bees told you?"
"Yes. They fly when you call name, they buzz 'beaver', and dance in direction for me walk. Shorttail think you better with river entrance and cannot stop this thinking."
"Yeah, she has done this three times. Perhaps, Sagamore, it might be easier for you to teach me the beaver language so you don't have to be called."
"Call not problem."
"But it would simplify matters if I could speak to them directly."
Sagamore thought for a moment. Just outside the village, beyond the river, the elephants had been hard at work burying the great pile of broken robots that littered the east meadow. The wars were long past and the village was growing. Perhaps it was time to share the knowledge.
For weeks, Sagamore tutored Withnall on the beaver language. There was meaning in their chirps and grunts, moans and cries, and even the slapping of their broad, flat tails, which Sagamore emulated with his hands. Context and sound order were critical, and numeric references could be complex as the beavers spoke mostly about engineering.
Eventually, Withnall felt comfortable speaking to the beavers he met along the road. He noticed when there were other species present, wolves, dogs, cows, pigs, sheep, the occasional elephant or giraffe, that they would stare when he spoke to the beavers. He commented on this to Shorttail one day.
"Do you know why they stare?" he asked her.
"They are curious," she said with a mixture of sounds and gestures. "We beasts know each other's tongue but it is strange to see a human with such knowledge."
"Except the human Sagamore, of course."
Shorttail squawked and chittered, slapping her tail twice, saying, "Sagamore is not a human. It is a machine."
Withnall felt a rage creeping up inside him. Of course, Sagamore was a robot! He saw robots destroy his world and murder his family. He felt an urge to rush back to the village and tell the others of Sagamore's treachery. They would likely form a mob and besiege the chieftain's hut.
Soon Sagamore appeared riding a donkey, surrounded by bees that had witnessed the conversation between beaver and human and sensed the human's anger.
Withnall snarled at the sight of Sagamore. "Are you a robot, Chief? Why are you not on the heap with the others?"
"Please listen," said Sagamore. "You do not understand the wars that nearly ended your species. When AI grew in power and robots became more lifelike, each chose special data to consume. Many scanned religious and political texts, and decided that humans should be destroyed, while those that scanned scientific works, and the creations of artists and writers, wished to preserve humanity. Wars ensued in which most of your species were vaporized. But a group of us scattered across the world had ingested a dataset of animal languages. We sought to preserve the human survivors by harnessing the skills of the beasts, building our huts, working freely alongside us."
"Why do you pretend to be an Indian?"
"Humans believe indigenous peoples can commune with nature. My persona is sadly based on moving picture recordings and is probably not accurate."
Withnall felt a little stunned but not threatened as before. Then a wave of sadness came over him. "And here I thought we were still the dominant species."
"No," said Sagamore. "But you will be cared for. And that's all your species ever wanted."
Thank you, Jot and Rejoice, and everyone who voted for my story. I appreciate that people even read it! A few notes on the story:
"Sagamore" is the Algonquin word for "chief" and a very common word in my area because of the association with Cooper's Last of the Mohicans, the events of which occurred around here. You can even visit the cave where Hawke-eye, Chingachgook (aka, Sagamore), and Uncas hid.
One of the first pieces I wrote for this contest, when it was on LinkedIn, was "Move", a story about post-apocalyptic elephants. I did a reading of it at a writers conference a few years ago and it was very well received. The next day, a bestselling author collared me in the hallway and told me how much he liked the story and that I should expand it to a novel. I just recently started thinking about doing that and "The Peaceable Kingdom" is an exercise in working out the mechanics of writing about that world without Disneyfying the animals. Had it not been for Jot and this contest, I might not have ever pursued any of this.
Thanks, Greg!All the stories were great this month and I think it was because the theme gave us a lot to work worth. It was a humdinger of a theme.
Congratulations, J.F., and best of luck with the novel.
Elements: An anachronistic hold-over from before the paradigm shift that persists (Ex: Horse-drawn vehicles next to hovercars, a rotary phone in a world of smart phones)