I’m not about to argue that writing a “very short story” (specifically, participating in the Twitter #vss365 challenge that requires your story or poem to fit within 280 characters) is harder than writing a novel. It’s not!
Dude, writing a novel is hard! Writing a series is harder still.
BUT it can be (truthfully) said that the challenges of infusing meaning, creating memorable characters, and telling a compelling story are more difficult the fewer words you’re working with.
Proof text: I am a golfer.
There’s an entirely separate artistry involved in the craft of short story writing. [I invite you to read my previous blog entries exploring the worlds of flash and micro fiction.]
To give one quick example, a great story always “sticks the landing.” You know what I mean if you’ve read a short story with a zinger of an ending. A great writer seizes the unique opportunity afforded by the scarcity of words to surprise the reader with a big revelation, a punch line, or a gut-wrenching twist.
Ernest Hemingway's famous 6 word story illustrates this beautifully: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”
When you get it right (and I’m definitely NOT saying I do this 100% of the time, but it is ALWAYS a goal), you are rewarded with an endorphin rush that explains the addiction.
The discipline of telling short stories is a speed ramp to improving one’s writing. Short stories teach you how to distill your message into the “bones of the story.” You don’t have time to flail around or lose yourself down a side path with just 240 characters at your disposal. (Obviously you don’t want to do this in long-form writing either!)
Here are a few “rules” I try to abide by:
The shorter the story, the harder each word needs to work. Think of the difference between ‘slogged’ and ‘skipped.’ You can feel the energy levels AND see the action.
I like to relieve my writing of as many am/is/are verbs as possible.
What to describe: Choose only the most important details and leave the rest to the reader’s imagination. Rather than spend my valuable words describing hair color, I’d probably choose to convey personality traits instead.
How to describe: Adjectives are sometimes useful but not always the most satisfying to a reader. You might have heard the saying, “Show, don’t tell,” a general philosophy I ascribe to with a judicious dose of oversight.
Anothony Doerr (All the Light We Cannot See) is masterful at introducing characters. Here’s a snippet of Zeno from his newest bestseller, Cloud Cuckoo Land:
He is an octogenarian in a canvas coat; his boots are fastened with Velcro; cartoon penguins skate across his necktie.
Note how much we readers would have missed if he’d just told us Zeno was “”an old guy with a green tie.”
On the practice green where I occassionally work on my putting, there is one hole that is much smaller than the others. In fact, it’s barely big enough for the ball. The theory is that if you get used to practicing with such a small target, the actual hole will seem much larger and putting successfully will be that much easier.
280 characters averages around 50 words, so I figure by the time class rolls around, 100 words will give me all the freedom I need.
*Interested in the workshop? It’s open to all adult learners and will be taught on Zoom. Check it out here – and if you have trouble registering, shoot me an email. [There is a fee for the 4 sessions]
I let my characters direct the first draft. After that, the crafting is up to me.
I don’t see editing as “cutting.” Less CAN be more, but not always. I view the process as carving away the excess to reveal the story underneath, then sharpening, molding, and massaging to bring out the best.
While I have little use for the cesspool known as Twitter, I do appreciate the amazing community of writers who inspire creativity and lift each other’s work. We are all so very different, and yet we share this enterprise. It’s way cool.
I do not lack for writing prompts in my life. No person could live long enough to write down all the stories in my head. But there’s a value in a shared writing prompt. If you have ever played Wordle, you understand the thrill of participating in the same challenge along with other enthusiasts around the globe.
I’ve only recently committed to taking on this daily challenge, but some of these crazy tweeters have been at this for 6 years! Here’s a bit of the backstory and a link for you to sign up to receive the daily prompt via email.
Which, by the way, you absolutely don’t need to do. All you really need to find the prompts is a twitter account. You can search for the hashtag #vss365 and find a slew of stories using that day’s hashtagged word. Nor do you need to post your creation on Twitter (or anywhere else) for all the world to see. Keep a little Word doc socked away in your slice of the cloud.
Please do tag me on Twitter if you give this a try. I would LOVE to read your creations!
I hope you’ll enjoy these. Feel free to follow my Twitter account for more shenanigans. And please feel free to drop your very own #vss into the comment section using any of these prompts!
[Note: Clicking on the hashtagged prompt will take you directly to the Twitter page where you can read more of the stories and poems from other writers.
A week in, my Styrofoam cup was the only one without a green sprout.
Mrs. Poe squeezed my shoulder. “Bad lima #bean, I guess.”
“Nah, I threw mine away. I hate beans.”
“I see. Then what are we growing?”
“A Hershey’s kiss.” I’m no dummy.
“It’s garbage!” Sal slams the #script on the desk. “They turned my book into a porno!”
“Hon-”
“And the screenwriter hides like a coward behind a pen name.”
My cheeks flare. “Maybe they-”
“They WHAT?” He rounds on me.
“Know what sells?”
[Guess who ‘hon’ is]
“When were you last intimate?” Dr. Kay asks.
“Hmm, are we counting the time Alma turned around and barked, ‘Aren’t you done yet?’”
I shoot Alma a #deadly glare, but my attack comes too late. She’s already dealt the mortal blow.
[This is an edited version I wrote after considering an astute comment left by a friend/fellow writer. I left the original up on my Twitter account as written.]
“You #coddle the boy, Aph. It’s time for our son to grow up.” Ares was right, but banishing Eros from Mt. O tore at Aphrodite’s heart. “What if he fails?”
Ares bared his teeth. “Then, my goddess, we shall punish him till he succeeds.”
[I sure hope this sounds familiar! Lovingly crafted from one of Aphrodite and Ares’s many “private conferences” in First Quiver]
Thanks for reading!
*
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