Get Shorty

by Nick DiChario

I’ve been writing short stories for more than twenty years. One would think that by now I’d be ready to move on to a novel, stretch my paper wings a bit, see how the other half lives. After all, novelists make good money (some do, anyway). Everyone knows that short fictionists, the ones who stick to it, die paupers with less hope than modern-day impressionist painters of being discovered after they’re dead.

Why do it, then? That topic alone is worthy of a novel-length
treatise, so I won’t delve into it here. I’ll say the bare minimum,
just enough, with any luck, to tease you into my way of thinking.
Short story writing is a challenge. It forces a writer into a per-fection of expression akin to poetry, and yet demands more than just sweetly seasoned prose. Short fiction demands beauty, style, grace, pinpoint accuracy, and a strong narrative voice. It de-mands a tightly wound thematic band that snaps into epiphany at just the right moment. Authors write short stories because, in a sense, they’re addicted to the impact high.

Sure, many writers begin their careers practicing on the short
story form and view moving on to the novel as a natural pro-gression into something bigger and better, like growing up. Like getting a job when you turn sixteen. Like proving something to the adults in the room. It represents a taking on of social responsibility, a formal declaration of accountability. But there are some of us who refuse to grow up, and for all of you out there (myself included) I salute you. In fact, I’ll give you
another game to play. It’s called the short-short, or sudden
fiction, or flash fiction, or miniscule fiction. In short, it’s shorter.
Write a story in less than a thousand words, twist that thematic
band around a toothpick without breaking it in half, and watch
what happens. Talk about a challenge! Talk about a punchy
little drug! It’s like tossing a pebble into the air and swinging a
baseball at it. Whack that pebble with the meat of your bat and
you’ll feel the joy of it resonate deep down into the marrow of
your bones; miss it or nick it and the sense of failure is profound. If there is one wrong word, one errant syllable, one false image, one misdirected thought, the author strikes out and the game is over. In this tiny arena of subatomic literature, nothing short of perfection is acceptable.

Pamelyn Casto, in her article "Flashes on the Meridian: Dazzled by Flash Fiction," says: "By whatever name you might prefer, flash or short-short fiction covers a large range of forms and styles. It runs the gamut: it can be clever, whimsical, and entertaining or can be literary, ironic, satirical, or sublime. It is sometimes funny, and sometimes controversial or unconventional. It can be troubling, unsettling, and unpredictable. Sometimes it is enigmatic, elusive, ambiguous, and is quite often paradoxical. This type of story is often rich in implication and is tight and precise, compressed and highly charged. The best stories often speak to us obliquely, and speak of the human condition in a profound way--in truths that cannot be seen as clearly in other ways. The best flash fiction lingers in the mind long after the story has been read--the way of all great literary works of art." (http://www.heelstone.com/meridian/meansarticle1.html).

I like what all of this means, and I would add to it only that
there is, inevitably, a sense of play and abandon in all of these
stories that is smartly irresistible. Spontaneity in fiction has
become a rare and wonderful thing. You can create some of
your own by writing sudden fiction, and you can enjoy some of
the impetuous whimsy of others by reading in the field. Either
way--and I suggest both--you will be pleasantly surprised by
the outcome.

I’ll recommend a book that I have recently read and enjoyed,
Sudden Stories: The MAMMOTH Book of Miniscule Fiction. This collection is available through MAMMOTH Books
(http://www.mammothpressinc.org/) or Amazon.com
(http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0971805954/qid=1060026547/sr=1-1/ref=sr_1_1/104-5220629-6702363?v=glance&s=books). You will find one of my own sudden fictions in this collection along with plenty of other remarkable pieces. But beware. It’s addictive stuff. You might get hooked. And then what?

Nick DiChario's stories have appeared in mainstream, mystery, science fiction and fantasy publications in the United States and abroad, including The Year¹s Best Fantasy and Horror and The Best Alternate History Stories of the 20th Century. He has been nominated for the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer (1992), two Hugo Awards and a World Fantasy Award. Nick has taught creative writing at universities, and he is the Fiction Editor of HazMat Review, a literary journal (www.hmlr.org). His short story collection, Magic Feathers, written with Mike Resnick, was published by Obscura Press (www.wunzpub.com) and some of his fiction can be found at fictionwise (www.fictionwise.com).