Jai Britton: Flash Fiction Editor

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Click here to see Jai’s Blog

Jai Britton was born in Saskatchewan where she learned to spell long words at an early age. She has studied the art of lying under the tutelage of Canada’s top playwright, Ken Mitchell, and also Joanne Gerber, best new short fiction book award winner.

Jai lives in the beautiful foothills of the Rocky Mountains. She was a semi-finalist for the televised version of the 3-Day Novel Contest (twice!) and a winner of the National Novel Writing Month contest for her first full length work The Atomic Weight of Homelessness. Her second novel, One Headlight, is in the drawer with the first.  She is currently stalling on another novel project ironically called interruption while filling her time writing bad poetry and long letters.

She is a student of early American literature and a lover of Greek mythology. She enjoys short fiction that stings like the business end of a broken beer bottle.

Jai was rewarded with presence of good company when she made Wigleaf Magazine’s shortlist for the Top 50 Short Fiction Writers of 2007.  Other nominees include Robert Bly, Russell Edson, Steve Katz, and ZZ Packer to name a few.

Some recent online work includes:

  • Gloom Cupboard #86
  • Word Riot
  • Toasted Cheese 
  • A Sample of Jai’s Fiction:

    Excerpt from interruption:

    My father used to love stories about the unreal, especially Ripley’s Believe It or Not! or old reruns of the Twilight Zone. He would get so immersed my mother would have to remind him to eat his sandwich and put down that picture of the two-headed cow because it wasn’t improving her appetite at all.

    My brother, Bill, had found a dying sparrow on the road one winter, wrapped it in his scarf, and brought it home. He kept it hidden outside knowing my mother wouldn’t approve (would freak right out to Mars, is how he put it) and hoped it would survive until my father arrived home from work that evening.

    When my father came down the street, Bill flew out to meet him nearly knocking him down in his anticipation to show him the sparrow. Together they went to where Bill had stashed it. Heads together they bent over to look at the dying creature. From the window I saw my father’s boot rise and fall, swiftly crushing the bird. Bill’s mouth hung open and he turned to my father with giant tears in his eyes. My father picked up the dead bird body without a word to Bill and strode to the fence, dumping it over and out of our yard.

    Bill stormed into the house and slammed his bedroom door. He didn’t come out for supper. He didn’t come out to watch Cliffhanger! (which was his favourite television show).  He didn’t come out to brush his teeth.

    I awoke at about midnight to hear my father whispering in Bill’s room. My father was saying in a gentle voice, “There is nothing unusual about death, Bill. You can’t pretend there is.” A pause. A heavy sigh. “Are you listening? Death is the dumbest person I know. He’s not clever at all. He doesn’t have to be.”

    5 Comments

    1. April 15, 2007 at 5:34 am

      Jai,

      Welcome aboard!

      Sorry about the spot on your thigh but my s.o.b dog has been lately out of his mind obsessing and mistaking legs for fire hydrants. I promise to not let him ride in trains after this sorry affair. I assure you he’s no misogynist despite his conduct since he also loves my wooden leg that he sometimes mistakes for a tree.

      Amicably & with humor…

      Alex

    2. Jai Britton said,

      April 23, 2007 at 9:06 pm

      Oh, that was piss? Could’ve sworn it was something else….

      Good to be here and thank you for the welcome!
      J.

    3. Alexandre said,

      December 19, 2007 at 3:44 pm

      Dear Jai,

      There’s magic in words when
      swallowed by their endings.
      It’s the last bite leaving an enduring
      taste and your choice of servings
      for this Winter is exquisite.

      Just thought I’d let you know while
      accompanying them with my best
      wishes for this holiday season.

      I’ve become aware that Christmas has
      become a poo word since there are
      rumors to take Christ out of Xmas
      and the Ho out of Hohoho!

      Alex

    4. June 4, 2010 at 4:05 am

      […] too.  I’d love to prove it to you but sadly the InterWeb is a temporary thing.  Making the Top Short Fiction Writers longlist in 2007 with ZZ  doesn’t count a whole lot when you’re begging for a Starbucks and she’s […]

    5. October 10, 2015 at 10:50 pm

      […] Flash Fiction volunteer editor for Mannequin Envy Literary Arts magazine, cir. 2007-2009. […]


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