March 2026 – Andrew Careaga

Three months in

A status report on writing during the first quarter of 2026

From a writing standpoint, 2026 has been a good year so far. As of today (March 31), I’ve had seven pieces published in seven different places. The latest pieces, published Monday and today, are “Scenes from a Chinese Restaurant,” a bit of flash fiction published in luckycreature‘s #MuckyMondays, and “How to Fish,” a short story in Cowboy Jamboree‘s latest issue, a tribute to the late great grit lit writer Lucia Berlin.

Looking ahead, I have acceptances for six more pieces, most of which will be published in April.

So far this year, I’ve submitted to 50 journals. I’ve received rejections from 30 of them, putting me on track to again this year join the 100-rejection club.

Here is everything I’ve had published during the first three months of 2026:

“Liars,” creative nonfiction in Frazzled Lit, January 2026.
“Whatever Happened to Randolph Scott?” a short story in The Orange Rose Literary Magazine, January 2026.
“Livin’ la Vida Pocha,” creative nonfiction in In Short, January 2026.
“Devin Found a Flash Drive,” micro fiction in MythicPicnic, March 2026.
“Eden in the Ozarks,” a poem in The Argyle Literary Magazine, March 2026.
“Scenes from a Chinese Restaurant,” flash fiction in luckycreature‘s #MuckyMondays, March 2026.
“How to Fish,” a short story in Cowboy Jamboree, March 2026.

New poem: ‘Eden in the Ozarks’

Plus some other terrific writing from the latest issue of The Argyle Literary Magazine

Earlier this month, The Argyle Literary Magazine included my poem, “Eden in the Ozarks,” as part of its “bucolia” theme.

Image from “Eden in the Ozarks,” published in *The Argyle Literary Magazine*

What the heck is bucolia, you ask? It stems from the adjective bucolic, which is from the Greek word boukolos, meaning “cowherd.”

Friday Five: Cowboy Jamboree’s Adam Van Winkle, author of ‘Count the Dust’

‘The idea became intriguing for me: write a play to be read.’

Radio plays have been around for a century or more, practically since the advent of radio. They thrived during the 1930s, ’40s, and ’50s–an era sometimes called the Golden Age of Radio. In his latest novel, Count the Dust (LEFTOVER Books, December 2025), writer and literary magazine editor Adam Van Winkle taps into that approach to create a distinctive story designed for radio but equally enjoyable as a good read.

Count the Dust is set in a nameless small town in southern Oklahoma or north Texas. It’s modeled after the place where Adam grew up, Texoma, but, as he writes, it could be any of the “many small Oklahoma and Texas towns I’ve been in and through that center around a filling station on a state highway.” It’s a murder mystery, told over two time periods–1967, the year of the murder, and 1997–as well as a story of “the persistence of offspring in unideal circumstances.”

“These places, like places I grew up in and around, with little money, little resources, drugs, guns, violence, strained marriages and poisonous relationships, they still find a way to produce progeny. People still meet through the circumstance of life, new people still get born.”

New micro fiction in ‘Mythic Picnic’

‘Devin Found a Flash Drive’ included in MICRO MAYHEM v5 (Sci-Fi and Horror)

I’m happy as a creature feature fanatic to have my warped little micro story, “Devin Found a Flash Drive,” in the latest edition of the X/Twitter-only literary magazine, Mythic Picnic: MICRO MAYHEM v5 (Sci-Fi and Horror edition).

Since Mythic Picnic exists only on X/Twitter, I can’t link directly to my story, but click on the link above and scroll for a bit and you’ll find it. It’s the third piece from the top. But don’t skip the other micros in this issue; they’re all bangers, as the kids say.

Here’s a teaser for my story:

DEVIN FOUND A FLASH DRIVE by Andrew Careaga @andrewcareaga

It was on the sidewalk at his bus stop. Devin grabbed it—maybe it’ll have some games on it, he thought, or better yet, porn—and when he got home, plugged it into his laptop.

But the only file he found was called “readme.txt.” He opened it and read.

“Dear stranger,” it began. “I need your help. Desperately.”

Devin read on.