tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9571381497311181892023-11-16T05:26:42.022-08:00Martin Cid Flash FictionMartín Cid was born in Oviedo (Spain), in 1976. He has publised two novels “Ariza” (2008, Alcalá Publishers) and “Un Siglo de Cenizas” (2009, Akron Publishers), and an essay “Propaganda, Mentiras y Montaje de Atracción” (editorial Akrón, 2010).
Los “Siete Pecados de Eminescu” is another novel that everybody can download for free:Martin Cidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368313698765724419noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-957138149731118189.post-26690467878478956292011-12-19T12:37:00.000-08:002011-12-19T12:37:10.228-08:00Five things I will never lose<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGSEhulOpRXxm2aiq8dOHd9nnuaWhEGWmM7LirlVqEVQvMy7UnCbmtUXf4cs7ugeVv7SHJ82FLKs4_83L_mdBqQfmjTX4JvQG-ISHDd3Lr9qMSASn3OJDPV6DsM5mr-hprA2U8U4nGlJzZ/s1600/Ensor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="160" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGSEhulOpRXxm2aiq8dOHd9nnuaWhEGWmM7LirlVqEVQvMy7UnCbmtUXf4cs7ugeVv7SHJ82FLKs4_83L_mdBqQfmjTX4JvQG-ISHDd3Lr9qMSASn3OJDPV6DsM5mr-hprA2U8U4nGlJzZ/s200/Ensor.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">by Ensor</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: ES;">First: the ability to be as stupid as it may be a man. Second: a knack for lying, for faking, for writing, for eating and for spiting. Third: the strange human wisdom of never being wrong, especially when I am wrong. Fourth: the prudence to boast always at the right time. Fifth (just to finish, my faults are many but I have one virtue that I have never confessed): the proud to be, in every moment or occasion, as sincere as deceptive, as true as fake, as worst as better and… as human as possible.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: ES;"><a href="http://www.martincid.com/">http://www.martincid.com/</a></span><br />
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</div>Martin Cidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368313698765724419noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-957138149731118189.post-76306727832639889502011-12-18T09:01:00.000-08:002011-12-18T09:03:47.920-08:00Looking for the character<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi16z7PSrGkgc17LHyqGcBCD5s-tjkMLh23tO3lyRiluJ_3C-IdSKhNtTMwbtJPxrvHYfejSe2SeDfdSusc9tXZmhDZ5eFNup3nCuWrBxXrQy66ZRBfiKLexq-308yPGUKpgsIC9EP4tXg4/s1600/barco_nelson1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi16z7PSrGkgc17LHyqGcBCD5s-tjkMLh23tO3lyRiluJ_3C-IdSKhNtTMwbtJPxrvHYfejSe2SeDfdSusc9tXZmhDZ5eFNup3nCuWrBxXrQy66ZRBfiKLexq-308yPGUKpgsIC9EP4tXg4/s320/barco_nelson1.jpg" width="195" /></a></div>I have lost him and I have forgotten his name. Years ago, he was mine, my fake creation and true fate, my only dream and the singular nightmare of my silent evening:<br />
<br />
The unnamed character went out last Friday evening. Where has he gone? Over the waste land, beyond the sea of fools, even far away of my dreams, he is lost. No more heartbeats of his waste aim, no more feelings for his tired heart, no more lies for his tired paragraphs, no more breaths, no more kills and no more kisses.<br />
<br />
At last, no more words.<br />
<div></div></div>Martin Cidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368313698765724419noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-957138149731118189.post-76534324866850220292011-12-09T10:10:00.000-08:002011-12-09T10:10:41.470-08:00For the Bible tell Me So<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hUwp0ubXKD4/TuJOVpyXPJI/AAAAAAAAAIM/Z5v9Bxu2V6g/s1600/martin_cid_flash_fiction.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hUwp0ubXKD4/TuJOVpyXPJI/AAAAAAAAAIM/Z5v9Bxu2V6g/s320/martin_cid_flash_fiction.jpg" width="234" /></a></div><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Everything changes, as certain as the smiling moon, as hard as the accurate words of the lost gods of time. There are not flowers in the garden yet, there are not words for the wise man, there is not future for this, again and again, waste land of silent screams. Europe, my dear Europe, my dear Spain and its fate, our tragic fate of don Quixote’s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ashes… time, again and again and, once more, the smiling disappointment of the past shattering the wise old promises. Once again, the empty future.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="_GoBack"></a></span> <a href="http://www.martincid.com/">http://www.martincid.com/</a></div></div>Martin Cidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368313698765724419noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-957138149731118189.post-67673283491142360622011-11-14T11:48:00.000-08:002011-11-14T11:48:34.009-08:00Martin Cid novels and works<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXMGnsc7NHdE9iZ_HudmRFYEQY0POracJodNu8zSACbCWCHKipYR3y0qjYDyw6304N7r386D97gyJHhu4TSMKUdJMpjnMOoXC67cGKbyUcQNyFcFBnRZjI64t2JMDgG2hgbagi-S8t3hf/s1600/MartinCid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXMGnsc7NHdE9iZ_HudmRFYEQY0POracJodNu8zSACbCWCHKipYR3y0qjYDyw6304N7r386D97gyJHhu4TSMKUdJMpjnMOoXC67cGKbyUcQNyFcFBnRZjI64t2JMDgG2hgbagi-S8t3hf/s200/MartinCid.jpg" width="186" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Martin Cid</td></tr>
</tbody></table>First Prize of Jérez Short Stories, 2009<br />
Prize Café Compás with the Short Story ‘Leviathan’<br />
Prize Short Story Dante Aliguieri, 2007<br />
Editor of Yareah magazine.<br />
<br />
More: <a href="http://yareah.wordpress.com/2011/11/14/martin-cid-a-writer/">http://yareah.wordpress.com/2011/11/14/martin-cid-a-writer/</a></div>Martin Cidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368313698765724419noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-957138149731118189.post-53070976137639443282011-11-13T04:48:00.000-08:002011-11-13T04:52:26.463-08:00Dadaist catastrophe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf15jGt1LB8eClgcS0JypVZ-vaBjl1XT2eccA65cuON3hUdbyFmcLEbNV75391BHKl46N2rN-QyQFL-s9omMDIWk0EHAn_2GpTij9QmI05nCo7gCge7ryCy-OGzL5k7UBlQmQxuBbcJOC9/s1600/magritte.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf15jGt1LB8eClgcS0JypVZ-vaBjl1XT2eccA65cuON3hUdbyFmcLEbNV75391BHKl46N2rN-QyQFL-s9omMDIWk0EHAn_2GpTij9QmI05nCo7gCge7ryCy-OGzL5k7UBlQmQxuBbcJOC9/s200/magritte.jpg" width="149" /></a></div><span lang="EN-US" style="color: yellow; font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode", "sans-serif"; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What would a Dadaist author say about our recent economical crisis? Ridiculous money, red car of an aggressive man, liquid stock market in the interior of my toilet. There are not reasons, not rules, not truths. Wars are a cancer, a business..., and businesses are a grey stomach. I am an outsider who likes clowns.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Lucida Sans Unicode", "sans-serif"; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="color: red;">More flash fiction by Martin Cid: </span><a href="http://martincid.com/english/flash.php"><span style="color: red;">http://martincid.com/english/flash.php</span></a></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"></span></div></div>Martin Cidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368313698765724419noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-957138149731118189.post-59117656677280642842011-11-12T08:55:00.000-08:002011-11-12T09:05:10.072-08:00INTERVIEW WITH MARTIN CID<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-95jYz5UJBXM/Tr6nGinAGAI/AAAAAAAAAGE/FlXZX863njg/s1600/NuevoFuturo1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-95jYz5UJBXM/Tr6nGinAGAI/AAAAAAAAAGE/FlXZX863njg/s400/NuevoFuturo1.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">INTERVIEW ABOUT FLASH FICTION WITH MARTIN CID</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">By I. Zara</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Martin Cid is a novelist who is recently very fond of flash fiction style. He is publishing brief fiction on his web page (</span><a href="http://www.martincid.com/"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Calibri;">http://www.martincid.com</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">) and on other specialized blogs.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Q- Why are you so interested in this short subgenre now?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A.- I am a novelist and I am interested in novels, big novels where you can create a complete and close world. However, flash fiction allows some motivating possibilities. A novel has structural rules that you can break writing this short literary form and it is fascinating to condense thoughts in few words: a challenge.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Q.- <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are very many discussions about the length. For example, Steve Moss (editor of the New York Times) established 55 words, no more and no fewer. What do you think of this requirement?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A.- <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I like to stick to 55 words and to play with words and thoughts to make everything fit. A good flash fiction can produce a strong feeling in the reader. We find the roots of flash fiction in Lovecraft or Hemingway… Of course, internet has given new possibilities.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Q.- When do you start to write flash fiction?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I cannot stop writing. I need to write daily and some busy days I was in a bad mood thinking about the impossibly of writing. Now, I get up, I take a coffee and go for a walk with Jack, my dog. Half an hour later I can write a good flash and the day goes well. If I can write my novels, it is better, but if I must go to pay bills or to whatever silly place, I think: ‘Well, at least I have written a flash, it is not a day wasted.’</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Q.- Are you publishing the whole flashes on internet or are you thinking about a future book?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Of course, I am thinking about a book. I love novels but I have published essay and articles too. Why not a book with flash fiction?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thank you very much.</span></span></div></div></div>Martin Cidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368313698765724419noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-957138149731118189.post-4314042814665120722011-11-09T09:58:00.000-08:002011-11-09T10:00:12.684-08:00Mary I of England<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6yvIterZ-foBiubaqFpJ4aNwdbCSJe3deHO97WyGZsuP7sueId8Jdwxt_E6SBilGO0MFV-6QsgIRjp_voZAIpa2Wtc3LmoBVN5L_7u1Ov0kX9f3daDLb9aD_WomCxGFFBW6f3mGif4MtR/s1600/Marie_Tudor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; height: 210px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: 177px;"><img border="0" height="200" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6yvIterZ-foBiubaqFpJ4aNwdbCSJe3deHO97WyGZsuP7sueId8Jdwxt_E6SBilGO0MFV-6QsgIRjp_voZAIpa2Wtc3LmoBVN5L_7u1Ov0kX9f3daDLb9aD_WomCxGFFBW6f3mGif4MtR/s200/Marie_Tudor.jpg" width="155" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Queen regnant of England and Ireland, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">bloody Mary</i>, Queen consort of Spain, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ugly wife</i>, Five year reign, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Catholic terror</i>. Very beautiful in her youth, appalling in her death, the death of a fanatic infertile mother, who had </span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;">280 religious dissenters burned at the stake. S</span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">he was a precocious child and a complete goofy afterwards: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">clap!</i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">See: <a href="http://martincid.com/english/flash.php">http://martincid.com/english/flash.php</a></span></span></div>Martin Cidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368313698765724419noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-957138149731118189.post-86970879646797969722011-11-06T09:28:00.001-08:002011-11-06T09:31:44.715-08:00THE GAME INSIDE ME by Martin Cid<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://martincid.com/imagenes/Gothic-Eye-Makeup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ida="true" src="http://martincid.com/imagenes/Gothic-Eye-Makeup.jpg" /></a></div><span class="TextoNormalEncabezado">First time, it’s a long sick feeling…</span> <span class="TextoNormal">after that, card after card, just the never-ending game and the ethereal faces inside my soul. The ‘who’ replaces now furiously the ‘where’ and time after time evil sounds stroke the end of the game. <br />
‘Where’s the last card?’ <br />
The last card is you.</span>Martin Cidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368313698765724419noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-957138149731118189.post-51156143272540899392011-11-06T09:22:00.000-08:002011-11-06T09:32:17.769-08:00INNER CHANCE by Martin Cid<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://martincid.com/imagenes/chess_queen-13702.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ida="true" src="http://martincid.com/imagenes/chess_queen-13702.jpg" /></a></div><span class="TextoNormalEncabezado">Last game, he lost. </span><span class="TextoNormal">No position. No tactics, no luck. He looks around the tables and he found the secret between the Queen and the Bishop: a little and awkward piece. He imagined the past, always foggy, always clean. Why? Next game will be different, next game is now. The King is back. Smoke.</span>Martin Cidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368313698765724419noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-957138149731118189.post-50570535732877248622011-11-06T09:02:00.001-08:002011-11-06T09:04:18.158-08:00Hate by Martin Cid<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://martincid.com/imagenes/camara_de_gas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ida="true" src="http://martincid.com/imagenes/camara_de_gas.jpg" /></a><span class="TextoNormalEncabezado">He is calmed, always calmed.</span><span class="TextoNormal"> It’s not necessary to be a monster to press the button… but it would help.<br />
‘Who will pick up the corpses?’<br />
‘Someone will do, there’s always someone to do that”.<br />
Slowly, he pressed the button.<br />
First time is always better.<br />
No feelings, no hate, no smile. <br />
The prisoner is dead.<br />
Smoke.</span></div>Martin Cidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368313698765724419noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-957138149731118189.post-36863515641570611142011-11-06T08:44:00.000-08:002011-11-06T08:46:19.034-08:00Desperate Lady? by Martin Cid<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://martincid.com/imagenes/desperate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ida="true" src="http://martincid.com/imagenes/desperate.jpg" /></a><span class="TextoNormalEncabezado">Lipstick on</span><span class="TextoNormal">, she draw a perfect figure of love with the smoke of the cigarette and she stands up for a simple minute of plenty glory.<br />
‘No more chances, Martin’.<br />
Then, just a smile, just a goodbye, last and first goodbye.<br />
Knife is still warm.<br />
Near the sideboard, he is dead.<br />
Smoke.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://martincid.com/english/flash.php">http://martincid.com/english/flash.php</a></div>Martin Cidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368313698765724419noreply@blogger.com