  Short Stories
This week: Edited by: Red Writing Hood <3  
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I think a surgeon is particularly suited by temperament to the short story form as opposed to the novel, because the short story is rather like a surgical operation. It has a beginning, middle and an end - at least my stories all do: you make an incision, you rummage around inside for a little while then you stitch it up. Richard Selzer (b. 1928), US physician, author. "Wounded with Wonder: A Talk with Richard Selzer," Studies in Short Fiction (Summer 1990). Source: bartleby.com
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LAST MONTH: We introduced our LAST set of flash fiction for mass critique.
Question list recap:
--Do you feel as if you’ve gotten to know the character(s)?
--Did they grow or change by the end of the story?
--Was there a conflict to overcome?
--Does one paragraph make you want to go on to the next?
--Does it set the scene?
--Does it have a plot?
--Does it have a climax?
--Does it have any denouement?
--Are there good word choices?
--Is the writing tight?
--Is there a good hook (ie. opening paragraph)
--Is there a good wrap up? (avoid moralizing)
Story recap. They are anonymous here but I will be featuring them in the editors picks next month (so we can give the authors time to edit if they wish).
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STORY 1:
When he woke up, he did not know how long he had been sleeping. He looked at his watch. It was 6:00, but he did not know whether it was morning or night. He sat up slowly and looked around the room. There was nothing familiar about it. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. There was no one else in the room. He looked at the couch on which he had been sleeping. It was brown and the throw pillow was dark green with a fringe of pale green. There was an end table and lamp at each end of the couch. Both lamps were lit. He stood up and walked over to the door. He tried to open it. The knob turned but the door would not open. He swallowed nervously and looked around again.
He walked to the desk on the other side of the room. On the desk he found a blotter, a pen, a blank pad of paper and a phone. When he picked up the receiver and listened, there was no dial tone. He opened the drawers. They were all empty.
There was a window next to the desk; or at least he thought there was a window behind those heavy drapes. He took hold of the cord intending to open them. Suddenly he felt such terrible dread that he changed his mind.
He looked around the room again still trying to find something familiar. This time his eyes stopped on the fireplace. The fireplace was made of bricks and had a marble hearth and mantle. There was wood in it but no fire. A large framed mirror hung over the mantle. He stared into the reflection. Now he really began to panic, because he did not know the person he saw in the mirror.
He sat down on the couch and picked up the pillow. Hugging the pillow tightly to his chest, he took deep breaths and tried to stop shaking. He had to think, and remember. Suddenly he turned and looked at the door. He heard something that sounded like voices. It sounded as though there were people talking on the other side of the door. He ran to the door and listened, but he couldn't hear what they were saying. Gripping the knob he tried to force the door open. He began pounding on the door, first with his palms, then with his fists. "Is someone there? Can you hear me? Help me! Please help me! Open the door! Let me go!"
**************************************************
She sat in the chair by his bed holding his hand in hers. The clock on the wall read 6:00. The nurse was on the other side of the bed checking the IV's and the leads to the machines that were forcing his heart to beat and his body to go on breathing. She had been sitting here by his side for more than a week. He looked as though he was sleeping, but in her heart she knew that this was not true. He was not going to wake up. Dr. Gruber cleared his throat as he entered the room. She looked up. The doctor put his hand on her shoulder, "Lydia, are you ready to do this?"
"Are you absolutely sure?" she asked as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "There's no chance...no chance that he might recover?"
The doctor shook his head, "No, he will not recover, he's gone. The machines are just keeping his body alive."
"Then I must let him go." She leaned over and kissed him on his lips, "I love you, Bobby. I always will." Then she turned back to the doctor, "Do it." Dr. Gruber reached over to the machines. Suddenly the room was very quiet, except for Lydia's sobs.
************************************************
The voices behind the door stopped, and he heard a clicking sound as though someone had unlocked the door. He turned the knob, pushed the door open and stepped out of the room. He found himself surrounded by bright white light. It felt warm and comforting. Now he remembered it all; the terrible pain in his chest, the sound of his wife, Lydia, crying as the paramedics worked desperately to save him. He turned to look back.
He saw the room. There he was lying in the bed. His wife was holding him and crying. He heard her repeating over and over, "I love you, Bobby. I always will." He tried to touch her, but it was as though there was a wall of glass between them. All he could do was watch and listen.
A voice behind him spoke, "She'll be alright, Robert, and one day you will be together again. Now it's time for you to come home. You've earned your rest."
He looked into the light and nodded. He turned, looking one more time into the room, he pressed both hands against the wall between them and called out to her, "I love you, Liddy. I always will." Then he turned, stepped into the warm comforting light, and was gone.
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STORY #2
Sitting at my computer, I didn't even bother looking up when I felt her enter the room. I waited, mentally counting, placing a bet with myself on what number I could reach before she blew up at me.
I lost. It only took to three before she started in with her nightly rant. I didn't hear what she said, it didn't matter. We'd stopped talking long ago. I would sit at the computer while she screamed shrilly at me and we both knew our roles.
She would dominate, I would be dominated.
I'd find something to do on the computer until the wee hours, then slink into our (her) bedroom, and slip under the bedclothes, fully clothed. I'd sleep for a few hours and be gone to work before she woke up.
Tonight was going to be the same.
"I'm serious, Ronald... I'm not going to put up with this anymore!"
"Mmhmm."
"I should've listened to Mother...you're a lazy, good-for-nothing..."
The ticking of the keyboard was my only reply. She continued on in this vein for a few more minutes before stomping out. I let out a relieved sigh.
I waited another hour before retiring to bed. Inside the room, I slipped off my shoes and listened. I could hear her breathing: quick hitches, then a long held breath, followed by more controlled hitches.
I sat at the edge of the bed, hesitating. In the darkness, I could make out her form, back turned to me. I listened to her near-silent crying for another minute before sighing loudly and sliding under the covers.
I turned to my side, away from her, freezing.
~~~~~~~~~~
Comments on Story 1 and Story 2:
twyls did a wonderful job of critiquing so instead of repeating most of what is in twyls critique, I will only add my comments in red in each appropriate section.
Story 1:
twyls I rather like this story. I was caught up with the story although not necessarily with the writing. I think that the middle section is the most emotionally charged, and therefore the most exciting. The editing process for this piece should include quite a bit of reading aloud. The prose is sometimes awkward and jarring, and the dialogue is a little melodramatic – which might not be a bad thing. I’m just not sure if it’s what you intended.
Red Writing Hood <3 I enjoyed this story and liked how someone being brain dead was portrayed as being stuck in a locked room.
twyls Here are a few points I found in the first paragraph, most of which can apply to the whole piece.
twyls *When he woke up, he did not … can be changed to didn’t Actually, there are several places where you don’t contract words that can be contracted. I noticed an example just a few sentences later. Read out loud to catch these.
twyls *I do like the use of time to tie the two segments of the story together, but I think you should either spell out “six” or use an odd number, like 6:03.
twyls *I found the description of the couch out of place with the rest of the writing. It is the only real description you give, other than to name objects, and it just didn’t fit. I thought there was more significance to it than what there was.
Red Writing Hood <3 I agree. If the couch is significant (because perhaps you are describing the same room being seen in a different way by different people) then you might want to clarify, otherwise edit it.
twyls *The sentence "There was an end table and lamp at each end of the couch" should be re-worded to something like "At each end of the couch was an end table with a lamp." This changes the emphasis of the sentence to the lamps, which makes the transition to the next sentence easier on and less obtrusive to the reader. In the editing process, try to watch word order, emphasis, and the necessity of extraneous phrases and words.
twyls *He stood up and walked over to the door. He tried to open it. The knob turned but the door would not open. These three sentences are a good example of what I find most jarring in this piece. Over half the sentences in your first paragraph begin with the same word, and the repetition is not, in my opinion, beneficial to the story. Also, every action is spelled out for us. I have three problems with this: It burdens the story with too many words; it doesn’t give enough credit to the reader, who can easily assume the action in the middle sentence without having to read it; and it is rather flat, with no emotion.
Red Writing Hood <3 To clarify: "He stood up and walked over to the door. He tried to open it." can be "He walked to the door and tried to open it." Actually standing up is implied to the reader and is unnecessary.
twyls *The only other real technical problem I had with the piece came in the last segment. In one paragraph you describe a sensation as being “as though there were a wall of glass between them.” Later, you have him press his hands to that metaphorical wall. I’m sure that was a slip-up, and it shouldn’t be hard to change to either include the wall, or have him perform some other action to get close to him.
twyls This was a rather in-depth review, and should not be taken to mean that the story should be scrapped. I think that the editing should be a fun process for a story like this, as you can make the writing tight and develop the characters as you go. I think that this 800-and-some word count can be cut down to at least 750. Good luck!
Red Writing Hood <3 I agree, some tweaking and this will be great! Sometimes I have just as much fun editing as writing a piece!  I'm such a writing geek 
Story 2:
twyls This story can be a great example of flash fiction if the author chooses a character for the reader to sympathize with. My opinion is that it would work best if the sympathetic character is the wife, as I think it easily can be. His near-sarcastic attitude at the beginning (making the bet with himself and losing) made me feel as if he were long-suffering, but at the end I could see that it was really the wife who was the one given the cold shoulder. This really is a good example of how people act in a stressful situation, with the wife over-compensating with her anger, and the husband freezing and avoiding the situation.
twyls To fully develop both characters, I think that you need to play up on these survival tactics. You’ve really shown him freezing, going so far as to use the word at the end. (The use at the end of the story, rather than at the beginning, works wonderfully to cap off the story and not pigeon-hole the narrator too quickly.) If you can play up her anger, her overcompensation, you could have a real winner here. The first thing I suggest is to change her dialogue so that it is not quite as cliché. Give her something real to say, even if the reader doesn’t understand it at all. Put some emotion in her voice. She doesn’t have to make a point – in fact, it will work better if she doesn’t.
twyls I particularly enjoyed the description of her crying, as I felt this to be the pinnacle of the story. It turned my expectations for the end all around, and actually made me sympathize for the character I had made so many quick judgments about. I think that this story works very well as a flash fiction piece, should you decide to do some equally tight editing.
Red Writing Hood <3 twyls has said it all here Great job, twyls and thank you and everyone else for sending in your work and comments!
NEXT MONTH: We will move on and address this question:
Submitted By: C.J. 
Submitted Comment:
Flash fiction is awesome when done suitably, I'm glad you've chosen to do a few newsletters about it. May I suggest a future newsletter on modernism and post-modernism? I’ve written a short story in the post-modern form and I find a lot of members here don’t know what modernism is. I wrote a short piece explaining it, but a newsletter would surely be helpful I think. C.J.
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Our Two Items Critiqued Last Month (along with their comments that they made when they submitted their items)
Submitted By: Ŧĥē Beŋ
Submitted Item: "The Decision"
Submitted Comment:
As requested, my flash fiction for dissection--or yikes, vivisection--and mass critique.
Submitted By: Spheric
Submitted Item: "Forever Fishing"
Submitted Comment:
Hi Réd Writing Hood,
Thank you for the great newsletter. This is the kind of stuff that is extremely helpful to us novice writers.
I have a piece of Flash Fiction for you to dissect, "Forever Fishing". How could I ever pass up the oportunity for this much feedback. I think I will learn more if it is my own piece that is under the scalpel. Anyway, if you find it worthy of dissection, I would be pleased.
Thank you again, Spheric
THEME: Flash Fiction
EXCERPT: She had been staring at the screen for hours – that is, if you count the trips to the kitchen for more coffee, the pacing on the porch with cigarette after cigarette and the numerous phone calls to friends about nothing in particular.
EXCERPT: I opened the delicate paper carefully. I knew at a glance it was a treasure map.
EXCERPT: Arty looked out of his window and thought that at 64, he was a little too old for a mid life crisis
EXCERPT: “Oh, that is just the coolest thing!” Audrey exclaimed.
EXCERPT: Meet Justice Laura V. Nickels, 1st District Court, defender of rights and liberties, adjudicator of the rule of law, unconfirmed eccentric, flawed.
EXCERPT: The last sounds Celeste heard were the jumble of a man's shout, a woman's scream and squealing tires on asphalt...
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Gotta question, answer, problem, solution, tip, trick, cheer, jeer, or extra million lying around?
If so, send it through the feedback section at the bottom of this newsletter OR click the little envelope next to my name Red Writing Hood <3 and send it through email.
Submitted By: scribbler
Submitted Comment:
personally I belive that to hook someone on a short story it has to be totally and completly wierd and origional. there is no room for your run of the mill plot in the short story genre.
Submitted By: April Sunday
Submitted Comment:
Don't agree, gen a novel has over 240 p to dev char unless a minor char. Real short stories up to 40 pages or over 6 /7 p can produce a char to like or dislike. Seldom can flash, ESSAYS. Teff leader of Bash the Flash!
Submitted By: insomniacarts
Submitted Comment:
Okay, I'm confused. Are these stories fragments of longer works, or are they posted en toto? If the latter, there are MAJOR problems with both of 'em. If the prior, then might I suggest posting the item ID's so we as reviewers can assess the whole work.
I'm reticent to critique until I know more...
Submitted By: robi4711
Submitted Comment:
I appreciate and don't mind hearing of other opinions, but I think a lot of people have the wrong idea about flash fiction. Flash fiction is supposed to be quick and to the point. Usually a reader can impose their imaginations onto any reading material and the story, no matter the length, will be better for it. If Flash Fiction is given well rounded characters, a plot of some length in order to explain the whys and wherefores, a climax then an ending to wrap up all questions not yet answered, you have a book not a 100 word flash.
Yes, but in flash (500 to 1000 words usually, but can vary depending on who you ask) you still need to have a sense of your character - the longer the work the more well-rounded the character needs to be. You also need to have a plot (nothing intricate - because you're right, this isn't a book - in fact, it may even be as simple as a point to make in a piece of micro fiction (55 to 500 words usually, but can vary depending on who you ask). 
Personally, I would worry less about how many words I was using (unless I was writing to specific guideline for a publication, contest or assignment) and concentrate more on an interesting story with good imagery and with a point that isn't beaten into the reader by moralizing as an ending. I use Flash Fiction as an exercise in writing because most of the same elements of longer fiction apply. But that's just me
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Short Stories: October 05, 2005 Issue [#646]
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