by Stephen House, March 22, 2020
creep exciting bender building plan ride vision drink night take-off
alone home load up six pack ale bubbly bottle wine from cask
public transport heading city down-town music hipster pub...
by Colin Deal, December 25, 2020
When you hit Tule fog, it’s like running into a wall of thick, black soup. It doesn’t start slowly and get gradually worse. It just begins and there is nothing to do but apply the brakes, make a U-turn, and hope that you don’t get broadsided by an oncoming vehicle.
by Colin Deal, December 2, 2020
There were only a few times in my life when I felt truly free. I think I can count them on one hand... I can easily play them back in my mind and relive every detail as if it was yesterday. Each of those events had a profound impact on my life, but none quite as grand as the day I received my fake I.D.
by Westley Heine, November 23, 2020
...Sure, in Wisconsin you could drink with your parents when you were sixteen,
but the beer just made me realize all the more how boring life in the country can be.
Everyone’s eyes glossed over while yelling at the Packers Game.
Drinking was more fun when it wasn’t allowed, when
I was off under bridges with the boys....
by Mark Fleisher, November 20, 2020
...I decided to get drunk. Crippling drunk. Not off the 3.2 percent swill that Schlitz and Pabst called beer. I was going to get falling down drunk in a real bar. The only problem was that I was one year under the legal drinking age in the State of Ohio, and I didn’t have a phony ID...
by Westley Heine, November 8, 2020
I think of all the bottles of beer from the week before that have helped me get over my hard work, and helped me live with myself as I pay for this room. Toasts of joy, and hits of sorrow, to feel something, or feel nothing at all. Yet this is the best feeling: knowing that I am giving something back, even if it’s just recycling bottles for a few bucks per pound.
by Cynthia Strauff Schaub , October 27, 2020
I tilt the decanter to the glass, the heavy one with the scene of downtown Baltimore
etched in black and real gold, probably 24 carat. Not to be put into the dishwasher,
though I do...
by Stephen House, October 22, 2020
It’s about five a.m. and we’ve finally stopped dancing. I’m standing at the bar arm in arm with the big chic and the little dude, and Guy walks in. Fuck! It’s a bit of a shock! I’ve been expecting him to rock up in town, but I definitely didn’t anticipate him coming here to The Bar so shit faced; not now. I’m so not ready for him.
by Hugh Blanton, October 14, 2020
Those saviors see solitary drinking as a sign that something's gone wrong—the only type of people who would drink alone are the hopelessly addicted, the mail bomb builders, the chronic compulsive masturbators. But then there are those of us who've discovered the joy of drinking alone...
by Scott D. Vander Ploeg, October 13, 2020
...my workplace was situated in a dry county... No matter what the local leaders mandated, I did not plan on being forced into sobriety.
by Marianne Peel, October 12, 2020
I left a trail of red feathers across the barroom floor,slopped with the grease from spilled fried pickles.They decoupage the floor with mosaics of a fragmented boa....
by Hugh Blanton, October 10, 2020
I listened as long as I could - waiting for pause. When I got my pause - I averted my eyes up to the close captioned TV above the liquor bottles...
by Colin Deal, October 7, 2020
This past weekend was a bit of a vacation for me. I had Friday off, and Monday also, which gave me a spectacular 4-day weekend. So, I decided the most productive use of this mini-vacation would be to get out of town, and visit some of my favorite drinking spots in Sacramento... But the real story here is not a warm-hearted tale of a personal mecca to boozing nirvana. Not exactly.
by Nicole Taylor , October 6, 2020
At Sam Bond's Bar I was missing my nephew Tom's birthday partywhile drinking double red Ninkasi Believers,while listening to songs with drunk Josey and Valerie,while watching traveling Michael on accordion and shells,and doing the wave dance...
by Joseph S. Pete, October 5, 2020
At the punk rock dive bar with the heavily graffitied men’s room where the wild-haired woman who reeked of patchouli whirled around from her studious hunch over the jukebox to face me eye-to-eye and lament it didn’t have The Dead Kennedy’s “Too Drunk To Fuck,” they told me I couldn’t order a pitcher of PBR if I were drinking alone...
by Rp Verlaine, October 4, 2020
The bitter cold keeping me indoors as if it were a cop and I a suspicious person of interest...
by Helen Aitchison, October 3, 2020
The four friends sat round the table, stealing glances at the bar area. It was a gloomy February morning, frost lingered on the ground outside. Inside, there was a bitter chill, even with the heating on full blast.... Continue
by John Grey, October 2, 2020
It's a dark and quiet smoky page from the book of martyrs... Continue
by B.A. Bittingham, October 1, 2020
Ah! Gracious elixir, good ally gin, come sit beside me while I rest herein from chaos and confusion that have been imposed on me to my chagrin... Continue
by Colin Deal, September 30, 2020
Reno is a benjo ditch filled with drunken cabbies, ugly prostitutes, and ignorant bartenders. It's a shallow grave dug especially by, and for, two-bit pimps... Continue
We are looking for work that screams drinks, drinking, and drunk. Please, no work from the anti-saloon league; we are not looking for pieces which herald sobriety, the process of getting sober, or the sober lifestyle. Basically, no sober stuff. There are other publications for that.
We would also appreciate if you don’t try to pull a fast one by submitting something that has nothing to do with drinking except for the protagonist holding a drink as he goes about his non-drinking business. If the drink doesn’t play a major role, we don’t want it.
It doesn't matter if you are established or this is your first time submitting. We are just looking for good, entertaining work.
We are not a paying publication.
Submissions must be between 300 to 3,000 words, except for novellas, novels, and other larger bodies of work. If your work is too short, bundle it with other works. If it’s too long, consider splitting it up into a serialized format.
We use Microsoft Word to read and edit submissions. Do not send PDFs or any other format. Also, please don’t copy and paste your submission into your email; send as attachment only.
For fiction, previously published work is fine but we prefer new stuff.
For poetry, send us up to four poems at a time.
For novels, novellas, or other large bodies of work, we’ll be happy to take a look. If accepted, we’ll publish one installment per week until it ends. If your work is exceptionally long and/or good, we will publish multiple installments per week. For this type of submission, please include a short synopsis (100 words or less).
Our response time is fairly quick. If we reject something don't take it personally. If that happens, feel free to submit a rewrite, but please limit resubmissions to one time per piece unless we send you some specific instructions.
Please include a short (100 word or less) bio written in third person, with author’s picture. Images must be in .jpg, .jpeg, or .png format. No .bmp or .gif. Be sure to send images as separate attachments within the same email.
Please also send a list of social media sites that you would like tagged if published.
Send all submissions to: stories [at] dearbooze [dot] com.
By submission of any work, you are declaring that the work legally belongs to you and you are granting us permission to publish.
Colin Deal, your drinking companion
Copyright © 2019 Dear Booze - All Rights Reserved.