Sudden Denouement Publishing is Now Accepting Manuscript Submissions for Genre Fiction

Sudden Denouement Publishing has made its mark publishing contemporary and divergent poets such as force of nature Nicole Lyons, social commentator extraordinaire David Lohrey, and stunning Bruised But Not Broken’s founder Rachel Finch.

Although providing a vehicle to publish such extraordinary poets remains a priority for Sudden Denouement Publishing, we are currently seeking submissions of exceptional genre fiction manuscripts. Perhaps your science fiction/fantasy manuscript or your noir mystery is just what we are looking for!

If you are unfamiliar with the quality and aesthetic of Sudden Denouement’s writing, please familiarize yourself with our work before submitting.

How to Submit:

  1. Submit all queries to submissionssuddendenouement@gmail.com. Be sure to include Manuscript Submission in the subject line. We ask that you submit one query at a time.
  2. Please include a cover letter, and a concise synopsis no longer than one page in the body of the email.
  3. Your cover letter should include a brief bio, and detailed contact information (name, email, and phone number).
  4. The synopsis should be a full summary of your manuscript, including the ending. We want spoilers.
  5. Attach the first fifty pages of your manuscript. We accept PDF and Word doc.
  6. The manuscript should be a polished, final product.
  7. Please allow us four to six weeks to review and respond to your submission. If we’d like to see more, we will request the entire manuscript.

 

Sudden Denouement Publishing is Now Accepting Manuscript Submissions for Genre Fiction

Sudden Denouement Publishing has made its mark publishing contemporary and divergent poets such as force of nature Nicole Lyons, social commentator extraordinaire David Lohrey, and stunning Bruised But Not Broken’s founder Rachel Finch.

Although providing a vehicle to publish such extraordinary poets remains a priority for Sudden Denouement Publishing, we are currently seeking submissions of exceptional genre fiction manuscripts. Perhaps your science fiction/fantasy manuscript or your noir mystery is just what we are looking for!

If you are unfamiliar with the quality and aesthetic of Sudden Denouement’s writing, please familiarize yourself with our work before submitting.

How to Submit:
1) Email two chapters of your manuscript to submissionssuddendenouement@gmail.com Please clearly state in the subject header: Manuscript Submission. Allow us four weeks to review and respond to your submission. We appreciate your patience as we give your work the attention it deserves.

2) We ask that you submit only one manuscript at a time.

3) Submitting to Sudden Denouement Publishing is free. We are grateful for the opportunity to review your work.

4) Please provide a cover letter in the body of the email. This should be focused and concise. We suggest a paragraph about yourself, and a paragraph about the work you are submitting.

5) Include your contact information in your cover letter. Most important is your name, email, and phone number in case we have questions.

 

Excerpt from Anthology Volume I: Writings from the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective- Street Rats/Daffni Gingerich

Ziegfeld Model - Non-Risque - by Alfred Cheney Johnston

From the depths of my churning stomach, he pulls out my childhood and makes me puke so violently it comes out of my eyes. After wiping my face, he kisses my acidic lips. That’s when the world stops and the words start to fall out of me. The mustard plants in the vineyard across the street bloom yearly. They’re beautiful so I sit on the fence and get lost in them. When with me, he’d stare for a good 20 mins before sneaking his dirty paws up my shirt. The wind would cause me to run through the flowers in whatever direction it blew. The sky is blue and I can taste grapefruits in the air. He grabs my arm and pulls me back towards him to say I could never get away. With his arms locked tight around me and my soul devoured by his eyes, I feel a shiver go up my dress. Reminds me of Clara Harris, the woman who they claimed had “sudden passion” and hit her husband repeatedly with a car. Then proceeded to run over his lifeless body. His kisses bring me to places I never planned on going. A monkey and tiger tug at my dress and the sultan rubs a gold lamp. I want the lamp but when I return to his kiss there’s not much else I could ask for. Besides well written work and well, that’s something I prefer to earn over rubbing a lamp to get for free.

Anthology Volume I: Writings from the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective is available at Amazon.com, Amazon Europe, Amazon Canada, Book Depository, and other major book retailers.


Daffni Gingerich says simply that she “is a writer.” You can read more of her mesmerizing prose at Daffniblog.

Can’t- pbbr

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Can’t sleep lately. Everything’s too bright. I’m not used to serenity; I am comfortable in the moss, under a rock, in the onyx flames of ill repute. Where light burns black with a perfect pitch, a neglected bastardized stinging glitch, oily but warm. Someone came along and snuffed the blackness. It’s too bright in this room. I want to go back to sleep, but not for as long as I will if I do.

Can’t breathe lately. The air’s too clean. Septic breath of a lurid death is what I crave. Putrid stench, nostalgic days. Comfort food like mom used to make, wasp nest chili and seaweed pizza. The old familiar sting of glass in broken nostrils, coppery fragrant like dead wood. Stink of shit and honeysuckle. But someone came along and brought fresh flowers with them. Not the offensive ones; the gorgeous odor of peace. And they make me uneasy.

Can’t talk lately. Not much to berate. I was a stuttering forlorn chicken in a filthy cage, squawking frothing castrated rage. But someone came along with lozenges. Nothing left to scratch and bark. I’m afraid of silence. I’m afraid of mellow golden diatribes, the lack of violence. What happened to screaming at a wall? You’re safe inside, and you know it. And I can’t get to you, and you know I regret it.

Can’t love lately. It’s a stagnant slab of cheery smiles, a vagrant loft of airy lies, laid out before me. Everyone is happy. Let’s all be sociable. Let’s dance with other people’s wives to bubblegum pop, not too close. Leave a void between, the façade of trust and happiness. The empty spaces where attraction used to fit. Deceit, defeat, unseat, complete. Treat me to a stabbing orgasm of penile snap. What the fuck is this trust shit.

Can’t die lately. And it’s making me uncomfortable.

We hope you enjoyed this classic piece of writing from the Sudden Denouement archive.


Based in the piney woods of East Texas, pbbr is a founding member of the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective. He is a technical writer by trade and the author of The Scale of Savages under the pen name Patrick Brendhan, available on Amazon.

Street Rats- Introducing Daffni Gingerich

Ziegfeld Model - Non-Risque - by Alfred Cheney Johnston

From the depths of my churning stomach, he pulls out my childhood and makes me puke so violently it comes out of my eyes. After wiping my face, he kisses my acidic lips. That’s when the world stops and the words start to fall out of me. The mustard plants in the vineyard across the street bloom yearly. They’re beautiful so I sit on the fence and get lost in them. When with me, he’d stare for a good 20 mins before sneaking his dirty paws up my shirt. The wind would cause me to run through the flowers in whatever direction it blew. The sky is blue and I can taste grapefruits in the air. He grabs my arm and pulls me back towards him to say I could never get away. With his arms locked tight around me and my soul devoured by his eyes, I feel a shiver go up my dress. Reminds me of Clara Harris, the woman who they claimed had “sudden passion” and hit her husband repeatedly with a car. Then proceeded to run over his lifeless body. His kisses bring me to places I never planned on going. A monkey and tiger tug at my dress and the sultan rubs a gold lamp. I want the lamp but when I return to his kiss there’s not much else I could ask for. Besides well written work and well, that’s something I prefer to earn over rubbing a lamp to get for free.

[We are very excited to add Daffni Gingerich to our collective. She is a special writer who brings something very special to the our group. I would hope that you would welcome here to SD.]

Rana Kelly – Until Her Darkness Goes

Rana

Today I would like to highlight the first novel of Sudden Denouement writer Rana Kelly Until Her Darkness Goes. Her book is available on Amazon.  Rana is an accomplished poet, and her novel highlights the scope of her writing. Her website is 2nd star to the left, straight on ’til morning. Please take a moment to step into the mind of Rana Kelly by visiting her site, and I would strongly suggest purchasing a copy of her wonderful novel. A review of her work is forthcoming. We are also very excited about the prospect of publishing her chapbook in the near future.

Synopsis:

Rachael Sullivan is NYC’s top music producer and owner of Red Hand Records, a private record label and a legendary empire of recording studios across the globe. But the music industry is in the toilet. Rock is dead, money is dwindling, and Rachael is on the cusp of losing it all. One night in a dingy London bar, she happens upon a raw talent that makes her believe in rock and roll again. The band is Murder of Crows, and her saving grace is Nicky McCallum, the genius frontman who is overcoming his damage. Both of them connect and find profound love, but they soon discover music and love aren’t enough. Drugs cloud the band’s success. Nick struggles with his addictions and demons, while Rachael fights her bipolar disorder and endures a harrowing loss that tests the strength of her soul. The two fight to save one another and remember what brought them together, before it’s lost in wreckage and blood.

Jasper Kerkau

 

 

all the beds are made – samantha lucero

when did you keep god under your tongue,
like
an uninvited pill
from that plastic nurse behind a wall,
masked
and reaching out to hand you an orange
mood
in a paper cup made in L.A.

for whom did your milky eyes blur,
or from whose unseen stare did the water
of your ribs buckle and hide
when you knew that worship was a mask we
wear,
that rituals and skin
give us a tendency to forgot how to say no?

i was born in a summer cage that sold
whispers to me
in body-sized trash bags, flung at donation
trucks where you wait and
where you drive up and pry a hole, pull out
unwanted secrets you can take home
and cherish as yours from other people’s
unglamorous lives; a boy scout’s book
on how to make a fire.
a girl scout’s book about how to cook on it.

my heart’s in a shot glass that says
‘i ❤ san francisco.’
on the floor by a fireplace
in his basement.

and i think that’s where i swallowed ‘god.’


[Sam does sixredseeds.]