  Short Stories
This week: God Is in the Details Edited by: Shannon  
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"The difference between the right word and almost the right word
is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug." ~ Mark Twain
In Reading Like a Writer: A Guide for People Who Love Books and for Those Who Want to Write Them, author Francine Prose says, "Every page was once a blank page, just as every word that appears on it now was not always there, but instead reflects the final result of countless large and small deliberations. All the elements of good writing depend on the writer's skill in choosing one word instead of another. And what grabs and keeps our interest has everything to do with those choices."
Prose encourages all would-be writers to read, and not just the multi-million-dollar megahits on the New York Times Bestseller List, but tried and true classics by enduring writers who died long before we were ever born. She encourages us to slow down and digest their stories word-by-word and ask ourselves why the authors chose the words they did, and in so choosing, what was he or she trying to convey?
There are many ways to say something, but moving your readers with your word choices will compel them to turn the page.
"Except for taking off his boots, he had not troubled to undress. He had merely fallen face down across the bed, as though sleep were a weapon that had struck him from behind." From Truman Capote's In Cold Blood
Capote could have said, "He was so tired that he collapsed onto his bed, exhausted." Both relay the same information, but Capote's version packs an emotional punch and sends a little shiver of excitement up the reader's spine.
I like to highlight words and phrases that speak to me as I read, and if there's a word I'm not familiar with I look up its definition before proceeding (something I LOVE about reading books on an e-Reader; the highlighter and dictionary are right there at your fingertips). I highlighted that particular passage from Capote's In Cold Blood over twenty years ago and it's always been one of my favorites. I've used it many times as an example of just how powerful a few simple word changes can be.
"... she wheeled around then and faced the children's mother, a young woman in slacks, whose face was as broad and innocent as a cabbage and was tied around with a green head-kerchief that had two points on the top like a rabbit's ears." From Flannery O'Connor's A Good Man Is Hard to Find
I love this passage! O'Connor could have simply said, "She wore slacks, and her broad face was encircled by a ridiculous kerchief," but look what we discover about the children's mother by reading these 43 words!
Details matter.
"The things they carried were largely determined by necessity. Among the necessities or near-necessities were P-38 can openers, pocket knives, heat tabs, wristwatches, dog tags, mosquito repellent, chewing gum, candy, cigarettes, salt tablets, packets of Kool-Aid, lighters, matches, sewing kits, Military Payment Certificates, C rations, and two or three canteens of water. Together, these items weighed between 12 and 18 pounds, depending upon a man's habits or rate of metabolism. Henry Dobbins, who was a big man, carried extra rations; he was especially fond of canned peaches in heavy syrup over pound cake. Dave Jensen, who practiced field hygiene, carried a toothbrush, dental floss, and several hotel-sized bars of soap he'd stolen on R&R in Sydney, Australia. Ted Lavender, who was scared, carried tranquilizers until he was shot in the head outside the village of Than Khe in mid-April. By necessity, and because it was SOP, they all carried steel helmets that weighed 5 pounds including the liner and camouflage cover. They carried the standard fatigue jackets and trousers. Very few carried underwear. On their feet they carried jungle boots--2.1 pounds--and Dave Jensen carried three pairs of socks and a can of Dr. Scholl's foot powder as a precaution against trench foot. Until he was shot, Ted Lavender carried 6 or 7 ounces of premium dope, which for him was a necessity. Mitchell Sanders, the RTO, carried condoms. Norman Bowker carried a diary. Rat Kiley carried comic books. Kiowa, a devout Baptist, carried an illustrated New Testament that had been presented to him by his father, who taught Sunday school in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. As a hedge against bad times, however, Kiowa also carried his grandmother's distrust of the white man, his grandfather's old hunting hatchet. Necessity dictated. Because the land was mined and booby-trapped, it was SOP for each man to carry a steel-centered, nylon-covered flak jacket, which weighed 6.7 pounds, but which on hot days seemed much heavier. Because you could die so quickly, each man carried at least one large compress bandage, usually in the helmet band for easy access. Because the nights were cold, and because the monsoons were wet, each carried a green plastic poncho that could be used as a raincoat or groundsheet or makeshift tent. With its quilted liner, the poncho weighed almost 2 pounds, but it was worth every ounce. In April, for instance, when Ted Lavender was shot, they used his poncho to wrap him up, then to carry him across the paddy, then to lift him into the chopper that took him away." From Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried
This is one of the most emotionally manipulative (in a good way) paragraphs I have ever read. The author lulls us into a false sense of security by telling us that Henry Dobbins liked canned peaches in heavy syrup over pound cake and that Dave Jensen had clean teeth and smelled of stolen soap, then he sucker punches us with scared Ted Lavender who always carried tranquilizers until he was shot in the head. We get this knot of dread in our stomachs as we continue to read, and by the end we're practically holding our breath. By detailing what each man chose to carry on his back, not only does the author humanize them, we feel we know them and care about what happens to them. They aren't just guys fighting in a war, they are Henry, Dave, Ted ... they are someone's son, grandson, husband, brother, father. We can visualize them. They were human and they were scared, and they dealt with it as best they could.
"Twilight. Big flakes of wet snow are whirling lazily about the street lamps, which have just been lighted, and lie in a thin soft layer on roofs, horses' backs, shoulders, caps. Iona Potapov, the sleigh-driver, is all white like a ghost. He sits on the box without stirring, bent as double as the living body can be bent. If a regular snowdrift fell on him it seems as though even then he would not think it necessary to shake it off." From Anton Chekhov's short story "Misery."
This is a beautifully-written paragraph that instantly creates a vision in the reader's mind. Chekhov could have said, "Iona Potapov didn't move from his perch on the sleigh as the snow continued to fall," but by telling us he's "white like a ghost" and "bent as double as the living body can be bent," he's telling us much more about Potapov's nature and personality than spelling it out ever could. Sometimes it's not what you say or how you say it, but what you don't. Reader's prefer to discover things for themselves as opposed to being spoon-fed extraneous information.
"As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a giant insect. He was lying on his hard, as it were armor-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little he could see his domelike brown belly divided into stiff arched segments on top of which the bed quilt could hardly keep in position and was about to slide off completely. His numerous legs, which were pitifully thin compared to the rest of his bulk, waved helplessly before his eyes." From Franz Kafka's short story "The Metamorphosis."
When you read Kafka's "The Metamorphosis" for the first time you're skeptical. You're thinking, What the...? He's totally dreaming, or drunk, or both! Then come the detail words: armor-plated, domelike brown belly, arched segments, numerous legs. Suddenly you're repulsed, dream or no dream, and your whole body starts to itch as if you've got a million microscopic limbs marching across your epidermis (or maybe that's just me). The point is that writers can make anything believable, and I do mean anything, if they pay attention to the details.
There are many ways to say something, but great writers say it with pizzazz! Choose your words carefully. Read your work aloud and listen to the cadence. If it stutters or seems to skip along like a scratched DVD, rewrite it and reread it out loud. Good writing has a rhythm. Pay attention to the way your words and sentences sound, and pay attention to your body as you write. Your body will let you know when you've got it wrong, just like it'll let you know when you've got it right. Give your readers that spine-tingling thrill they so desire and they'll keep coming back for more.
Thank you for reading.
"Writing is not a visual art. It is a symphony, not an oil painting. It is the shattering, not the glass.
It is the ringing, not the bell. The words you write make sounds, and when the sounds satisfy the reader's ear, your writing works." ~ Gary Provost
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This week I've included three articles about how to improve your writing and three short story selections. Please remember to do the authors the courtesy of reviewing the ones you read. Thank you, and have a great week!
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The following is in response to "Short Stories Newsletter (November 6, 2012)" :
SantaBee  says, "Shannon, great look at literary devices that shine!" Thank you, Steph! 
An apple a day....  says, "Hi, Shannon. I thoroughly enjoyed this newsletter. Sometimes we take so many courses and read so many writing books, we forget the reason why. I printed your 'titillating tricks' as a reminder for editing and a good way to get started. Sometimes making that first edit is so difficult; I know this will help. Thanks a bunch!" Thank YOU, Connie! I'm glad you liked it. 
ChrisDaltro-Chasing Moonbeams  says, "THANK YOU for featuring The Voodoo Doll in your awesome WDC Newsletter. I was really proud. Much love." Much love backatcha, Christina. It was my pleasure. 
Quick-Quill  says, "Shannon, thank you for sharing our conversation and my 'Bonded for Life.' 11/11 will be my 40th anniversary. I am happy to be with my husband even though we will not be together on the day we will still be in spirit." Wow, that's a long time! Warmest congratulations to you and your husband, and thank YOU! 
catty  says, "Thank you for featuring Walking Through Walls in the Newsletter. I loved writing it in the first perspective and worked very hard on its title. Appreciate your breathing a little interest on one of my first postings here way back when!" You are most welcome, Catty! It's a great read and it was an honor to feature it in the NL. Thank you for reading and commenting. 
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Short Stories: December 04, 2012 Issue [#5391]
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