|
Objective
What is a short story?
Scholars, critics, academics and writers are still debating this
question today. However, there is one aspect of the short story that
they all agree on: the short story is more than just a short novel.
It is a genre in and of itself, and should be read and written with
different expectations than the novel. With that in mind, there are
essentially two types of short narratives: the short story and the
simple narrative. In a simple narrative,
the focus is on the plot, the “what happens next.” However, in a
short story, though there is a “narrative,”
there is also meaning that lies below the surface story, or a symbolic
substructure. This symbolic substructure is where the real meaning
of the short story is, and everything in the story points to it.
Conflict, Crisis and Resolution For a story
to be successful, there must be a conflict.
What makes short stories interesting is trouble. Trouble, or conflict,
is what keeps readers reading your story. Conflict comes in many
forms, but the main thing to remember is that the central character
must yearn for something, must want something intensely. According
to Janet Burroway, “What the central character wants doesn’t have
to be violent or spectacular; it’s the intensity of the wanting that
counts.” Think about it this way—the most dangerous things in life
are not necessarily the most spectacular. The same is true of short
stories.
There are many different conflicts, but in a nutshell, conflict can
be broken down in the following way:
- Human against human
- Human against nature
- Human against society
- Human against machine
- Human against God
- Human against self
Once conflict has been established, and this is usually at the very
beginning of the story, it is then developed through the story. Then
the conflict must come to a crisis, either
internal or external. After the crisis, there either is a resolution,
or, as many modern and contemporary stories end, the reader is left
to decide the resolution. In the short story (as opposed to the simple
narrative) this crisis is often called the epiphany,
where the main character comes to an understanding, changes his/her
view, or has a chance for change but either doesn’t recognize the
chance or chooses not to take it. In such a case, the epiphany is
the reader’s, because the reader comes to understand or see something
that the character is unable to. The key is that there is change,
or a chance for change, or reversal. A reversal of some sorts is
necessary to all story structure. The conflict can’t go on in a short
story; there must be an end in sight, either for the characters or
for the reader.
So, a short story begins “in the middle,” with the conflict and tension
established first. The sooner you get your characters into some sort
of conflict, the better. Because a short story is by its nature short,
you don’t have the luxury of a novelist in providing background information
or describing scenery.
Exercise
This exercise will give you an opportunity to practice conflict,
crisis and resolution in a very short space.
In the text box below, try writing a story in exactly 100 words.
Because this is so brief, you will want to create your conflict right
away. Also, remember that your resolution can be implied.
How did you do? Did you establish your
conflict in the first sentence or two? Were you able to write a complete
story in 100 words? Can your conflict fall into one of the 6 categories
of conflict above? Was your crisis internal or external? Was there
a resolution, or did you leave it up to the reader to decide?
Symbolism
A symbol is an object or event that represents
something other than its self. Most symbols in short stories become
symbolic in the story itself, and they don’t have this meaning outside
of the story. But do writers intentionally place symbols into their
stories? The answer is no. So, while symbols and symbolic substructures
are important if you are writing short stories (as opposed to simple
narratives), the confusing part is that you don’t want to intentionally
put them in. So how do they get into your story? The masters of
the short story form say that they write stories from the place they
dream, and that the symbols and symbolic substructures exist only
because of the nature of the human mind, where meaning is below the
surface.
Following are quotes from masters of the short story on symbolism:
Ernest Hemingway: “I know what I am writing
about but I never throw in symbols consciously. Sometimes I find
out what I’m supposed to mean when I read the books on my work. I
guess somewhere some of the same ideas must be in me. I certainly
do have crazy ideas.”
Katherine Ann Porter: “Symbolism happens
of its own self and it comes out of something so deep in your consciousness
and your own experience that I don’t think most writers are at all
conscious of their use of symbols. I never am until I see them.”
Flannery O’Connor: “I really didn’t know
what a symbol was until I started reading about them. It seemed I
was going to have to know about them if I was going to be a respectable
literary person.”
So, your goal is to strive to do is to let the story tell itself,
as opposed to trying to tell the story. When you do this, symbolism
occurs naturally, because of the nature of structure and the nature
of the conscious and subconscious mind. According to Julie Cameron,
writing is about:
… getting something down, not about thinking
something up… Another way to think of it is that writing is the art
of taking dictation, not giving it. When I listen to what I hear
and simply jot that down, the flow of ideas is not mine to generate
but to transcribe. When, on the other hand, I struggle to write,
it is because I am trying to speak on the page rather than listen
there.
Thus, the writing process is inherently and by definition symbolic.
In the structuring of events, the creation of character and atmosphere,
the choice of object, detail, and language, you are selecting and
arranging toward the goal that these elements should signify more
than their mute material existence.
How, then, do you know if symbolism is present in your story, and
if that symbolic substructure is working? One of the best ways to
discover if your writing has symbols and symbolic substructures is
to have others read your stories. It is always interesting and enlightening
for a reader to find symbolic meaning in your story, to learn that
the depth of your consciousness and experience points to meaning beyond
the narrative. Very often writers don’t even know that they are there
until someone points them out to them! For more on symbolism and
how symbols naturally evolve, read the section on symbols in Chapter
1, Lesson 17, Writing Poetry.
Another way to know if symbolism is present and
working in your story is through re-visioning your story (see Chapter
1, Lesson 16, Writing Short Stories 2: Techniques: Editing and
Revising), LINK to the lesson seeing your story new, and seeing
what was always there but not obvious (even to you) at first. This
is why it is so helpful to set your work aside for a period of time
and then go back to it. You will be amazed sometimes at what winks
back at you from the page.
Also, reading classic and contemporary short stories
rich with symbolism will help you to understand what symbolism is,
how writers use it, and how it enriches the story beyond the “simple
narrative.” There is certainly nothing wrong with simple narrative,
but the works that withstand the test of time, the works that speak
to us and stay with us long after we put the story down, have symbolic
substructures that the reader identifies with (sometimes subconsciously).
A good place to start is by reading some of the short story writers
that are considered masters of the form such as Eudora Welty, Flannery
O’Connor, Franz Kafka, Grace Paley, Anton Chekhov, Katherine Mansfield,
Williams Carlos Williams, Kate Chopin, Edgar Allen Poe, Guy de Maupassant,
Donald Barthelme, William Faulkner, William Gass, Vladimir Nabokov,
Jorge Luis Borges, Joyce Carol Oates, Robert Coover, Ernest Hemingway,
Ralph Ellison, Amy Tan, and Imamu Amiri Baraka (Leroi Jones).
Structure and Form Structure
and form are the overall design or arrangement
of material. Like poetry, the form of a short story contributes significantly
to a story’s effect and to your reader’s response. For example,
a story that is 1500 words may have a more concentrated, and poetic,
impact than a story that is 15,000 words. The sheer “shortness” of
the story lends a strong emotional and intellectual effect that lingers
with the reader long after she has put the story down.
But length is not the only aspect of form that you can use to comment
on the content of your story. There are many devices that you can
use in order to enhance meaning and emphasize symbolism and theme.
Following are some of these devices:
- Framing. Framing in the short story
is similar to a frame around a picture. It holds the picture together,
but is separate from the internal image. Frames take many different
forms, but some of the most common are different time periods, different
characters, or sometimes seemingly unrelated events. The idea of
the frame is to “surround” the story with the frame in order to
add meaning. With a story that is framed, you want to have the
“complete” story inside of the frame, with the frame adding complexity
and reader revelation.
- Diary entries or notes. Telling a
story by a series of diary entries or notes. As is common in stories
of this mode, the reader must question what, if anything took place,
which can be a comment on reality or perception of reality.
- Collage. A collage is an assortment
of disparate fragments pasted together and transposed into an artistic
composition. Collages suggest rather than tell, and can have the
effect of fragmentation, disconnection and isolation. This is an
experimental form of fiction, but can be very successful if there
are the symbolic and thematic threads that tie the fragments together.
- Non-linear plot. Events not in sequence,
or not having a beginning, middle and end arranged according to
chronological or clock time. This technique can comment on the
idea of time itself and the effects it has on man.
- Anti-story. Plots are truncated, distorted,
or abandoned. This technique can comment on the idea that the universe
is not rational or coherent, but rather a meaningless puzzle.
- Lyricism. Breaking parts of the prose
into poetic form. This can comment on the poetic nature of life,
the short story form, the character, etc.
There are many more aspects of structure that you can use in your
stories—and contemporary writers certainly are inventing new ones.
One thing to keep in mind: If you decide to use the disconnected or
incongruous techniques, remember that they are only apparently disconnected
or incongruous. In actuality, the disconnection creates coherence.
Like the form of the whole, the structure of sentences themselves
can also comment on content. Short, choppy sentences can convey the
emotion or action of the character, but can also convey the “choppiness”
of the contemporary world. Conversely, long, lingering sentences
and paragraphs can convey not only drawn-out action or emotion, but
also the nature of the lost or wandering modern man. Like symbolism,
these techniques cannot be forced upon the story. However, you can
consciously use these techniques in revision to emphasize your point
and comment on theme.
Exercise Take your 100-word story that
you wrote above. Now, see if you can rewrite the story in the form
of a diary entry. Try to keep the new story at 100 words.
Short Story Sub-Genres To understand the
development of the short story means to get a grasp on what has come
before. Just as other art forms such as painting, sculpture, and
music study the masters to understand their own work, so it is extremely
beneficial for a writer to study the short story in its various stages.
Understanding the short story as a genre also opens the doors for
you as a writer. By reading the short story in all of its forms, you
come to understand that there is no formula that is “right,” no cut-and-dried
way to tell your story.
Following are some of the short story sub-genres
and some of the writers who write in these non-traditional forms.
- Magical realism is a sub-genre characterized
by fantastic detail, mythology, parable and poetry. They are often
elusive, and operate in a world that is at the same time both real
and unreal. Gabriel Garcia Marquez is
considered to be one of the leaders in this sub-genre, and his stories
include “Eva is Inside Her Cat,” “A Very Old Man With Enormous Wings,”
and “Eyes of a Blue Dog.”
- The lyric short story concentrates
on internal changes, moods, and feelings, using a variety of structural
patterns depending on the shape of the emotion itself, relies for
the most part on the open ending, and is expressed in the condensed,
evocative, often figurative language of the poem. The essential
of storytelling are present, but it is not plot development that
arouses interest. Many of Jean Toomer’s
stories can be considered lyric short stories. Toomer’s book Cane
is a collection of lyric short stories and poetry.
- Short-shorts or flash
fictions are classified as having less than 2000 words.
The brevity of this form allows for a concentrated emotional and
intellectual impact. Franz Kafka’s “Before
the Law” is an example of such a story.
- Metafiction is fiction about fiction,
where art is an artifice in which the real and fictional worlds
are inseparable. John Barth is considered
one of the forerunners in this sub-genre. His most famous book
Lost in the Funhouse is a cycle of short stories focusing
on metafiction.
Summary In this lesson, you’ve learned
the difference between short stories and simple narratives and the
elements that make up short stories. By reading the masters of the
genre and practicing, you will learn to develop your own style and
unique way of telling your story.
Works Referenced Creative and Critical
Approaches to the Short Story. Noel Harold Kaylor, Jr., Ed.,
1997.
The New Short Theories, Charles E. May, Ed., 1994.
Short Story Theories. Charles E. May, Ed., 1976.
Story to Anti-Story. Dr. Mary Rohrberger, 1979.
Writing Fiction: A Guide to a Narrative Craft. Janet Burroway,
1992.
Dramatic Technique in Fiction. Robert Bahr, 1998.
The Right to Write: An Invitation and Initiation into the Writing
Life. Julie Cameron, 1998.
The Norton Introduction to Fiction. Jerome Beaty, 1996.
  
|