“A short story is a different thing altogether – a short story is like a quick kiss in the dark from a stranger.”

Stephen King

Aside from the hilariously nonsensical pieces I wrote when I was a child, the first work I completed was a novel. Nearly 350 pages in length, it awaits editing like a hairy beast lumbering in a shadowy corner. There I stand, scissors in hand, and I haven’t a clue where to begin trimming. For trimming in excess is what it requires. Granted, I feel the story is strong; but the characters are in desperate need of refining and depth, and the subplots need bolstered. I am beginning to understand why some say your first work is often not your best. An unfortunate realization considering the effort I put in to it.

I decided to heed the advice of one of my brothers and let the creature lie for the time being, turning my attention to the exploration of another world of writing – the art of short stories. Miniscule compared to the monster-tale I had written, I quickly deduced these stories would be simple to crank out. Write one, send it for possible publication, write another in a different genre, and so on. I would be building my portfolio all the while.

As I scrounged for ideas, staring at the glaring white of a blank page, it occurred to me the short story and I were strangers, and it was much more demanding and stringent than I ever gave it credit for being. While there are hundreds of pages to accomplish great things in a novel, a short story must draw its reader in and pack its punch in a few thousand words.

“…A short story is a photograph; a novel is a film.” Lorrie Moore provided a good comparison. I want my “photographs” to be well-crafted, for what is a film but a series of pictures? By improving my short stories and thus concentration to detail and strength of plot for a single story line, it is my hope that my novel will be more complete and more enjoyable in the details.

Reading short stories and watching shows based on shorter works have helped me in beginning to create my stories, stimulating my mind and providing a wealth of new ideas and information on which to lay the foundation for my own work.

In my research, I have determined writers of short stories capture the ardor of a single moment in time. Those moments when one may be at their worst or at their best. A moment verging on some great surprise, catastrophe, or victory. The writer creates substance around that single breath, be it in the present, past, or future.

There is something delightfully mysterious about a short story, as Stephen King seems to indicate in his quote featured at the beginning of this post. It is like peering through a peephole and obtaining a small glimpse of an entire world just beyond your door.

After three months of working through as many weekends as possible to weave my small tale and edit, edit, and edit yet again, I felt it may be time to send my frail little child in to the great, unknown world of literary journals.

I spent years with my mind in the world of my novel. Now I find myself returning to the world I created for my short story, only to remember my time there is already done, only a few short months from when it began. I sigh and dare one last look before slipping away, leaving it to slumber undisturbed until I shall return.

Such are the perils of taking the “shorter” route.

Musingly,

J. R. Brierley