 Short Stories: June 11, 2008 Issue [#2438] |
  Short Stories
This week: Edited by: Leger~  
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The purpose of this newsletter is to help the Writing.com short story author hone their craft and improve their skills. Along with that I would like to inform, advocate, and create new, fresh ideas for the short story author. Write to me if you have an idea you would like presented.
This week's Short Story Editor
Leger~
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Dark Writing
Is "Dark" a new genre? What is Dark? Well, it's a new at writing.com."
Dark writing explores the darker side of the human mind and character. Some feel that to be successful, dark writing has to be thematically accurate. It shows an author’s expression of immorality, pain, sadness and destructive thoughts. Whether the writing is an attempt to shock the reader or a purging of the author’s own buried issues, dark writing can bring about high emotion in a reader.
Is it a sign of mental illness? Some contend that the destructive behavior of an author’s characters reflect that which is in the psyche of the writer. Was Poe ‘emo’?
Dark isn’t new. Look back to classics like the gothic horror of “The Castle of Otranto” by Horace Walpole, or Poe’s dark romanticism and others like Nathaniel Hawthorne and Herman Melville. What part of Daphne du Maurier’s mind did Mrs. Danvers in “Rebecca” come from?
Who are the new dark authors? Stephen King? What about Thomas Harris? Dean Koontz? Or do we define them as horror writers? Do we define a dark character as ones like the vampires Merrick and Lestat created by Anne Rice? Or would that be classic gothic romanticism.
So would “dark” be a new name for a basic genre or is it something new, something farther that the classic author’s imagination? Let me know what you think.
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Excerpt: Every stroke of the brush through her thin black hair tossed it aside, causing it flip up and fall back to her scalp like dozens of black snakes. Snakes hissing and menacing, ready to strike and send me away. I almost wished for it.
Excerpt: His grip tightened on the gun clutched in his right hand - a weapon not for the use on the worried crowd, although they were welcome to watch. Privacy no longer mattered to him. They would not be hurt. It was his time now. Lowering his gaze to settle on the gawking flock, he lifted the gun.
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Excerpt: "OK, I confess. I killed him. But can I also confess that it was his fault? Don't blame ME! He made me do it. If he had just..."
Excerpt: remember darkness. Not a simple, straight-forward absence of light, but rather a far deeper depth of black, possible only in complete ignorance of the very concept of light. Time, space, life itself held no meaning to me. The only thing differentiating now from the infinite period of nothingness before was a slowly burgeoning awareness of self.
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Excerpt: The hollow sound of Shorty Johnson's feather-weight running shoes striking pavement echoed throughout the solitary road. For as long as he could remember, Shorty, born Reginald Lucius Johnson, loved running cross-country. It did not matter whether he ran in competition or for pleasure. The solitude he felt lifted when he strode in rhythm, for only then did loneliness abandon him.
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Excerpt: Lydia raised one eyebrow peering hard at the gift. "Spiders? A poison ring or that garnet necklace we saw in the window at Bats Hat and Things."
Excerpt: He stopped and looked behind him, started as if goosed, only to lower his eyes as the familiar uniforms of the soldiers walked by. He was unaware he held his breath until they rounded the corner with only a cursory and yet disdainful look at the two gerishes standing there. Their tattered and worn overcoats, gaunt expressions of hate and mistrust, and sickening pallor were of no importance to them.
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Excerpt: "I was at the aquarium watching all the pretty fishes. Then I walked to a darker tank and looked out through a little window. There was a man in a diving suit feeding the fish, and it looked like so much fun. He shined a light on me. He saw me watching him and looked surprised. It was all my fault. The diver backed away from the window but caught his suit on something. I think it tore, and lots of bubbles came out of his mouth. I saw his eyes bulging out and I think he was going to die."
Excerpt: Everyone knew that it lived out there in the forest, but it seemed strange that no one wanted to talk about it; no one except the kids. There had always been the stories of missing pets and missing cheerleaders that the teens would toss about that no one took seriously. Until one day the high school's favorite cheerleader went missing.
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Excerpt: "Ah yes, Professor Albert wants you to observe five patients in preparation for your paper, no doubt. He often sends his top students to me when they partake of this assignment." The elderly, balding psychologist led the young student to a heavily secured steel door. "I think you will find all that you need here, Jackson. These are our more ‘special' cases..."
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 This month's question: How do you define "dark" writing?
Last month's question: How did you conquer your fears?
Replies
Pen Name  : I have a different fear; I am afraid of my novel. What was a mere idea has become a living, breathing thing, a story that needs to be told. I feel pressure, responsibility, and fear that makes being the author-at-work a burden and a thrill. Does that make sense? Anyway, once I treat writing this as the job that it is, complete with schedules, etc. then perhaps my fear will be quelled.
shaara: "I don't throw out the old until drafting is completed. Then I reread the story to see if the changes work." This is such a simple thing to do, but I can't tell you all the times I've mentally wept for not doing it. Thanks for the reminder. My goal is to use the "versions" feature in Word.
DRSmith  An interesting piece, Leger... and yes, such phobia affects nearly everyone at some point... especially new wannabes. In fact, it's the exact veiled theme of one of my first pieces "A FRECKLED FACE OF FEAR" [E] dealing with venturing from a safe, comfy environs, no matter how "icky" it might seem to others, and into new territory: the attempt at literary accomplishment. It's like stepping into a barren, dark room, the walls lined with critics, with all eyes staring at the new, naked you... the wannabe writer directly beneath the room's only light, a stark bulb overhead...wondering what they're all looking at, what do they see. Yes, we've all been there, and if any are like me, I still feel those probing eyes. lol Enjoyed.
J. A. Buxton : ((New eyes roaming over your story can help spot grammar and plot errors.)) This is the main reason I offer GPs when posting a new story. (( I read all the change suggestions and examine the story to see if I agree. ))
Whenever I get a review that contains suggestions or constructive criticism, I save only that part of the review separately in a Word document. The document for the 2003 early draft of my "HOME OF THE RED FOX - Segment One" novel went to 33 pages, all filled with ideas to improve the story. In this way, the members here on Writing.com helped me polish the words and smooth out the rough edges.
Comments
Acme : Insightful and interesting newsleter, Leger  It's going into the Acme keeper file!
Write on and take care 
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