 Short Stories: September 07, 2011 Issue [#4605] |
  Short Stories
This week: Birthdays, Bar Mitzvahs & Black Friday Edited by: Jeff  
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"Short fiction seems more targeted - hand grenades of ideas, if you will.
When they work, they hit, they explode, and you never forget them.
Long fiction feels more like atmosphere: it's a lot smokier and less defined."
-- Paolo Bacigalupi
Random Writing Trivia of the Week: Roald Dahl, best known as the author of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, James and the Giant Peach, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Matilda, The BFG, etc. was also a fighter pilot in WWII, wrote stories for adult audiences, and was an accomplished screenwriter (You Only Live Twice (James Bond movie), Chitty Chitty Bang Bang). He was given the opportunity to write the film adaptation of 1971's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, but was replaced after repeatedly failing to meet deadlines. Dahl would later disown the film over the changes that David Selzer made to the story, including - in his opinion - focusing too much on Willy Wonka and not enough on Charlie.
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BIRTHDAYS, BAR MITZVAHS & BLACK FRIDAY
When it comes to writing stories, the length of the narrative is often determined by the events in the story. A novel, for example, might be about a week-long investigation of a crime by a police officer, or the search for a lost treasure that takes the characters on an extensive investigation into some of the world's most remote locations. A short story, on the other hand, might be about a single event like a trip to the store, or a birthday party.
That's not to say that a longer work can't be about a shorter event or a short work about a longer one, but in general, the length of time the characters are in their particular setting will determine the length of the story. When it comes to writing short stories, single-day events like birthdays, bar mitzvahs, Black Friday and other important holidays and important dates can give you a great framework for your story, because they're required by nature to end after a very limited amount of time. You don't have an unlimited or even extended amount of time in which events can take place, which means you have to pack everything into a timeline with a ticking clock on it.
Celebrations can be the perfect backdrop for a story. Whether you're talking about a birthday, a wedding, or a holiday meal, celebrations often involve lots of people coming together for the specific purpose of recognizing some specific milestone. Depending on the individuals involved and the occasion, anything could happen from a friendly, pleasant gathering, to a day filled with awkwardness and unspoken feelings, to a combative and explosive experience. It could be a birthday party where the center of attention's sibling causes a ruckus because his or her own party wasn't as extravagant. Or it could be a Christmas dinner where an estranged relative comes for a surprise visit. Or it could even be an Easter egg hunt gone horribly, horribly wrong. The best part of these kinds of stories is that, by nature, most of them are meant to be short. It's unlikely that an Easter egg hunt, or a holiday meal, or a single party will solely form the setting for a longer work like a novel; but it could be the perfect narrative backdrop for a short story.
When deciding what to write about, it's not just a matter of picking the medium and then writing whatever story comes to mind. The best writers give thought to the medium that is best suited for the type of story they're trying to tell. Movies, for example, since they're limited by what can be seen or heard by the audience sitting in the theater, are not always well suited for screen adaptations of novels that are cerebral and focus a great deal on what's happening in the character's head, or off screen. Similarly, a graphic novel isn't necessarily the best medium for a straight family drama, because there's very little action to depict visually in the panels. A short story, on the other hand, may not be the best medium for a romping spy thriller that takes the character around the world to all manner of exotic locations, because each location requires setup and description, which could pile on the words in a hurry.
If you're writing a short story, make sure that you pick a setting or subject matter that isn't going to have you pulling out your hair trying to figure out how to fit it into a limited word count. Why not consider setting it against an event or an activity that has a built-in limitation to it? Birthdays, bar mitzvah's, Black Friday, and other single-day events are a great way to give your story a compelling, engaging backdrop that will also help you limit the length of the story. 
Until next time,
-- Jeff
QUESTION OF THE WEEK: What single-day event or activity do you think is the most interesting setting for a story?
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This week, I would encourage you to check out the following short stories:
His black hair lay smoothly to the back of his head and his slim body in a loose tuxedo, Rick Wigglesworth smiled to his reflection. His freshly shaved face was impeccable. Tonight all the ladies of the aristocratic families of New York were going to fall into his arms like money. The Wigglesworths were one of the richest families in New York. Rick put on his Rolex and left his room.
Sherry first saw him in Jacksonville Florida, the first date on her Birth of Beauty Tour, standing a few rows back. He had a baseball cap and thick sunglasses and used some type of video recording device because she could see the red digital eye. Signs everywhere said not to bring those into the concerts but most ignored in hopes of creating the next viral YouTube video. Two songs later Sherry looked and the man was gone. At her birthday party backstage she thought she saw him walk by the doorway, as she was blowing out the candles. She turned and he was gone. She didn't make any wishes.
A couple of hours later, Anna decided to make a sandwich to appease the hunger pangs, a sudden burst of light caught her eye. Of onto the horizon a lonely white cloud broke through the brood of gray clouds. Anna stared at it, feeling she understood the cloud fighting among the darkness to be seen.
That was three months ago, and Ruby has been in an emotional free fall, and one of her handholds, Gloria, whom she has remained friends with since her lay-off, put in a good word for her with her friend, Lars Malone at Homeland Security. She has an interview this morning, her second in three months. The morning traffic crawled slowly as she squinted into the bright sunlight. She needed caffeine and noticed a Starbucks on the corner. She pulled into the parking lot, found a spot in front, and rushed inside. Just as she was about to exit, a man entering, bumped into her causing her coffee to spill on her white blouse.
The thief knew this was going to be a piece of cake. Anyone who told him otherwise was just a superstitious fool. Everyone that had mentioned Lady Carlotta's pearl necklace said that the pearls were made out of a demon's teeth, and therefore, not real pearls at all, but that was preposterous. In the days leading up to William's attempt he had seen the necklace. There was no way that those pearls were made out of demon's teeth. They were just regular black pearls.
Charlie was not sure how long he had been on the streets; he only knew that it was a long time. The fact is that Charlie had been homeless for almost two years. He was walking through a neighborhood that he was sure he had been in before but he could not remember when. He knew his memory was not what it used to be. He was getting old. It did not matter to Charlie that it was Christmas Eve. As far as he was concerned, it was just another day to be tired, cold, and hungry.
Princess Almera was always the last person dancing. No matter how long the party was, or how tired she was, Almera loved parties, and loved dancing, and hated it when it was all over. So when, to celebrate her tenth birthday, her doting father sent her to each of the ten provinces in the kingdom for ten different parties, she was delighted. At every party, she was the first person to dance. And at every party, she was the last person dance.
I have felt so miserable since his car hit the huge tree on the side of the road. It took his precious life away from me. I could not stop my flowing tears. For many hours and days my broken heart killed my desire to start a new life. I saw the green grasses turned dry in the silent garden. No flowers bloomed, no angel sound of the birds, and no rainbow of butterflies cheered my heart any longer. The empty chair in my room was cold. I needed to get rid of it from my room; I was so scared and sad and angry. I still could feel his lovely warm touch at that chair for the last time. His soft kissing was taking me to the real heaven that I never felt before, on that chair. But, it was his last kissing he gave to me and on that chair he hugged me; and I heard him whisper to my ears and felt his gentle lips tickle my cheek.
The soft shimmering of piano tones crept slowly and very melodically through the air, yet took my soul to across the deep blue ocean. I wanted to dance with him under a full golden moon, witnessed only by the silvery twinkling stars. How beautiful it felt to glide tenderly in his arms. It was all so beautiful, all so perfect. And yet… I was confused, also. I realized I was in a large room all painted in gloss white; everything shone, and the bright whiteness of it all made a strange impression within me. The room was dominated by a white piano, and a giant statue of a white tiger stood, menacingly yet peacefully, and slightly spooky, in one corner. I felt as if it was ready to attack me.
I write because I can; because up to 18 months ago I had neither the ability nor desire to. Life works in mysterious ways, and sitting in the courtroom that day, I realised that a sentence could both hold power over me and empower me. When the jury delivered a verdict of the death penalty, I was led away in handcuffs to live out the rest of my days in what can only be described as a personal hell, forced to behave like an animal in order to gain respect in the perverted hierarchy that is prison.
“This pill is enormous, Stephen!” “It’s the only way you’re going to make everyone happy, Carol. Just swallow it and we’ll have a good marker for the machine. Once it starts digesting, it’ll know when to send you back. By my estimate, you should be able to make five return trips to roughly this point in time.”
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From my last newsletter on streamlined storytelling (the question of the week was regarding favorite short story authors):
You are SO on target with your word count breakdown! Just try writing a 55 Word Contest entry without a plan! -- Write_Mikey_Write! 
You know, I've tried 99-word contests, and even 100-word no-repeats contests... but the idea of writing a story in 55 words scares the heck out of me! 
I really enjoyed this weeks Newsletter, it was insightful and I can honestly say I learned a lot of essential things. Thanks. -- Ricky Gulu Gulu 
You're very welcome! I'm glad you enjoyed my first Short Stories newsletter!
Love the %s you gave in this newsletter! That's really going to be useful to folks like me who are looking for ways to learn this thrilling and infuriating craft. -- Hypermommy
I've found that the craft of writing is always a delicate balance between enough structure to develop a process that works for you, but not so much that it stifles your creativity. In that respect, I figure the best way to give advice it to throw lots of things at the wall and see what sticks for each person. 
I enjoyed this months letter to the editor... good practical advice for writing the short story -- Swilltastic 
Thank you very much! I'm glad you found it helpful. 
My favorite author is..... Whomever I'm reading. -- BIG BAD WOLF is Howling 
I wish I could love everything I read... sometimes I downright loathe whoever I'm reading! Especially if it's for work and I don't have the option of not finishing. 
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