The Astounding Outpost is open to short-fiction submissions for our regular periodical and future themed anthologies. Recommended length We prefer short stories between 1,500 and 5,000 words. Human writing The Outpost focuses on human writing. We will consider work created with AI assistance, but we do not accept AI-generated fiction. Our regular periodical is an…
The Outpost had a semi open call. RIght now we have the following recomendations Tales of the Shamrock and Thistle — Celtic myth, folklore, and Celtic-themed fantasy. Weird West — science fiction, fantasy, supernatural, steampunk, etc. in the Old West. Midnight Blood — vampire fiction. This one is definitely active; the Outpost inbox has received…
The outpost is back. We are proud to be a part of the secon golden age or pulp. We will be running Pulp Classics- stories from the golden age of pulp. Astounding Discoveries- We will post links to original videos we find on youtube and other platforms. Reader submissons from the internet and more.
Welcome to The Astounding Outpost Sites. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start writing!
A strange buzzing pierced her ears as Carrie slightly opened her eyes. A disembodied voice said, “Great, you’re awake. Let’s get you ready for your match.” “I must have taken too many pain pills last night, I don’t remember the bus ride to Philly.” “Philly? Doc, give her another stimulant. She’s still wasted from the…
The pilot from Boonetown now wended his way in the general direction of Bar-le-Duc. But three quarters of a mile of pounding his puppies against the rough terra firma of France was enough for Phineas. And so he tried for a lift, but an assortment of Yankee rolling stock passed him by without a tumble….
Night flying was not considered good for the health in the days of the Big Fuss. That was before we had radio beams and robot pilots. All a man like Phineas Pinkham had were a stick, two Vickers guns, and a prayer. And now the flyer from Iowa was cruising high over the heads of…
Now over in Alsace-Lorraine, in a Heinie stronghold, a monocled Herr Oberst was pawing the dew of concern from a brow that was as wide as a garden gate. “Ach, mein Herrs,” he gutturaled wearily, “der Marks ve moost haben. Alreadty yedt der Marks dey ben lower by der Cherman Banken. Der troops by der…
Even so, the brass hat had been somewhat careless with the truth, though it would not be polite to call him a liar. In the presence of Phineas Pinkham he had told Garrity that what he had to say was not a pilot’s business. But after he was gone, the Spad flyers of the Ninth…
INDEED the latter—whose American odyssey was destined to be quite as hard as that of Foh Wong, decades earlier—needed every cent of the fifteen hundred dollars. To enumerate all those whom he had to bribe would be to give an ethnographical survey of many of the Far East’s more gaudy rogues. But let us pick…