How Are Short Stories Supposed To Work?

I’m writing a short story, but what exactly does that mean?

I won’t dwell on Red’s “—I know what you think it means, sonny,” reference from The Shawshank Redemption, but it does have a bearing on the current world of short stories. Red doesn’t believe that the chairman of the parole board has the slightest idea of what “rehabilitation” means to him. And he’s right. 

In the world of short stories, I think we as readers, and even writers, tend to play more the chairman of the parole board role. But begin to live a short story, and its reality does not meet your preconceived notion. Take a 30,000 foot view of how short stories are written these days, I think you’d be surprised. 

Authors, both great and small—of which I’m admittedly in the latter group, while aspiring to be part of the former—are addressing the eBook short story market because it makes a lot of financial sense. It’s also a great option for the casual reader. $2 to $5 for hours of entertainment, and I don’t even have to leave my damn sofa to buy it. 

But I’ve been reading some of the popular short eBooks out there, and while they’re still entertaining, are they a story capable of any level of complexity? In my experience, not so much. As a reader, I have liked the stories: they still have a beginning, a middle, and an end; but more often than not, they feel like a somewhat more satisfying first third of a book.

Is that a bad thing? I have no idea … I really don’t. I don’t even feel qualified to answer the question, but I am interested in what you think. Read an eBook or two that’s 100 to 200 pages, and let me know what you think, I’m sincerely interested.

In part, my personal perspective on this is reflective of my previous blog, “You Want People to Love Your Book …” in which I asked the question, “What do I want from this book?” It’s a question that could, potentially, bite you in the ass earlier in THE PROCESS when you switch genres. I realize that I enjoy writing about the interaction of characters and how that interaction affects characters. I like writing about people fucking with each other, both figuratively and sometimes literally, and the emotional and psychological fallout of man’s great and not-so-great intentions. I enjoy a good misdirection, because in the real world, sometimes even geniuses do stupid shit. (I’ll go into this in greater detail in the next blog, I promise). 

For better or worse, I guess my stories tend to be about the people in the situation, as opposed to the situation itself. I don’t tend to immerse my characters in sensory details of the grain of a well worn hardwood floor that have worn through the varnish, providing an extra micrometer of traction that somebody used to their advantage over somebody else. I tend to be more of a macro scale writer than that. I find the subtle sarcasm and oneupmanship between friends, admirers, coworkers, and lovers to be worth more attention. But that does not make me right, by any means; it just makes me, me.

My approach to this short has been to get the story out there, that’s why I’m writing this book, which in retrospect is very similar to my approach for my first novel. I made the conscious decision to go for plot, thought and emotion first and foremost; I’ll broaden my color choices from the palette only where it helps the story.

Will every reader agree with my approach or find it satisfying? I doubt it. But every reader is different, we all want different things from the stories we read. To some, a story is at its best when it is pure, sensory immersion. To others, it’s a diversion of reality, an escape from our world into somebody else’s world. Others find solace in the gifts of the language itself, and wrap themselves up in a otherworldly articulation of prose. They are all right in seeking what moves them.

I aspire to embrace the best of these traits where my story allows it. For me, though, for where I’m at in my little corner of the literary world, the stories are still writing themselves—and for that I’m grateful. My PROCESS tends to write stories that I’m trying to guide onto the page. For me that works. I hope that you like it, too. If you don’t, I hope you find someone who’s writing does mean something to you.

So my short story is going to be a story. A complete story, not the first third of a novel. I’ll see if that works. I’ll see how long or short it wants to be when it writes itself. Maybe that, the story’s ability to write itself, is its strength. Perhaps my strength as a writer, is being able to stay out of its way.

eBooks are Good. That's why I'm writing my first short story

Electronic Literature … or eBooks, as we’ve come to know the burgeoning business, is the future of literature. Like it, love it, don’t give a shit, or hate it—we all know this to be a fact. The numbers remove any trace of doubt, as does the demise of the brick and mortar book store.

Is this a good thing?

I’ll be honest, I don’t know. What I do know is that the entertainment industry as a whole is not run terribly well, and literature, just like any other form of art, is ultimately entertainment. 

“But does entertainment nurture the soul?” you may ask. Of course it does. And while those of us that participate in literature as consumers or producers may not understand all entertainment as being capable of nurturing, it is. I’m not saying I agree with it, nor do I condemn it, but I guarantee you that somewhere a man in his 50s is sitting in a strip club tonight with tears streaming down his face, in awe of the beauty that unfolds before him. My brother can watch a 20-year-old videotape of a basketball game that brings him to tears, the emotion of that moment overwhelming him still. Personally, I can listen to Freddie Mercury breathlessly deliver a vocal performance that can still “reduce me to tears, with a single sigh,”—bonus points for you if you know that line—or the interaction of Flea and/or John Fruciante and/or Josh Kilnghoffer can just … move me.

The perfect structure of Jhumpa Lahiri’s prose, the magic of an old Elton John song, the abstract creativity of Jackson Pollock, the palpable fluid genius of Jimi Hendrix on guitar, the mathematical precision of Thelonious Monk: they are art—they are entertainment. Entertainment can lift, it can build, it can destroy. It can fill your soul or rob you of your humanity.

Its form, however, is not its function.

Yes, paper is comforting to some of us who have grown to draw pleasure from its tactile nature. Yes, a hardcover book leaves some of us with a feeling of accomplishment at having lived through that writers world, in the universe they provided for our entertainment. We finish their novel and we feel—fulfilled. We put the novel on our bookshelf and it is our trophy. Perhaps we even view it as a testament to our conviction to expand our world, or enhance our knowledge.

Books have been all of these things, and they will continue to be so, even when they’re stored on an electronic device that we can take anywhere.

Fellow writers, fear not; the world is not abandoning you. The fact is, you’ve just become infinitely more convenient.

Convenience is a good thing.

I recently bought a book by Penn Jillette on an eReader that I would not have bought otherwise. And no, I didn’t buy it because he’s the only other French guy out there writing books in English. I bought it on a whim. 

“Ewwwwww, whim purchases,” you say. 

No, “Mmmmm, tasty,” I say.

For a new writer, whim purchases are good. They present us with hope that someone will buy our book on a whim, just for the hell of it. Then they can tell their friends that they freakin’ have to read this book, too.

I haven’t experienced this yet, but I think this is how you become popular, in the literary sense.

Now did I like the book? Yes. Did I love it? Not so much. It’s not that Penn isn’t a fine writer in the same manner that he is a fine conversationalist, he is both. But in my personal view, his stories tend to abandon their intended point, rather than support it. But they’re still great stories, so I got’s me some entertainment value from them after all.

And for all of the readers out there, that is something to be appreciated. A good story, or stories, that you can take wherever you go, all of the time.

That’s why people are buying bucket loads of Kindles, Nooks and iPads. Good stories when you want them.

For all of you writers out there, this is the dream.

You have access to people regardless of the denial letters you’ve received from over 80 agents looking to land the next vampire-oriented teen novel author to add to their prestigious stable of talent.

So am I entering the eBook fray? Damn skippy I am.

I’m an author and I intend to make a living selling stories. I’ve finished my first novel, and started my second. But while I’m shopping for that elusive agent to represent my pride and joy, I’m writing a short story (100 to 140 pages, I’m guestimating), and I’m going to sell that story via the good people at amazon.com, and Apple, and Barnes & Noble.

Why not just land an agent, since they are the gate keepers out of literary obscurity and into the promised land? As I stated in a previous blog, I’m not sure traditional publishing is in my best interest (or any other authors) financially. Then there’s the question of whether they’re going to sign onto a five novel series? If they think it’s well written, one would think so, but one wouldn’t necessarily be correct in that assumption. You and I may see 5 products that said agent would believe in if they believed in the first novel. But agents of all kinds will tell you that they, like publishers, don’t really know why one book sells and another does not. As a member of John Q. Public I will admit that that seems crazy. To us, if something is good, it sells; if it sucks, it doesn’t. But we can all think of a few wildly popular books in the last 15 years that just sucked balls and have sold tens of millions of copies. 

Agents are also steered into signing the hot genre of the day. This year, it’s hormonally challenged teenagers and the vampires they love. I’m sure they believe they’re pissing on their parents virtue with each Robert Pattinson fantasy. Hell, maybe the are, but considering agents see a ton of offerings and sign only a handful of authors, that can be problematic for those of us that don’t troll dark alleys for teenagers at night.

That the majority of agencies an author comes across have no interest in representing commercial literature—i.e. things that you or I would find compelling—is the subject of another blog yet to come.

“So,” you may be asking yourself, “if you’re going to release an eBook, why not release the novel that you’ve spent the last year and half of your life on, first?” 

Glad you asked. Or at least I hope you asked, anyway. Because, and you can call me crazy, or calloused, or whatever, but I want to build a market for my novel series. I know that sounds awfully “business-y” in a literary world we pretend is focused on art alone— and don’t get me wrong, this is my art—it is also my business. I take that seriously. So do those that depend on me for income.

I’m starting a small business, with an inexpensive, quality product that I hope will gain mass appeal. This will require marketing, (another future blog), a healthy dose of business strategy … and luck. Add in a reliance on the interests of strangers to be successful, and it’s a small business opportunity that one has to make all the right moves at to succeed.

There are no formulas anymore, (if there ever where), and there is no “one way” to make the eBook business world work for you.

But it can work. 100 to 140 pages for $1.99, or $2.99, or whatever. That’s hours of entertainment for the price of a plain bagel. I know of authors who are selling 3700 eBooks per week at those prices, though admittedly most have had traditional publishing deals first. But that’s changing, too.

The bottom line is that, as a new author, eBooks are not only the future, but they present a real opportunity for us to make a living at writing without the reliance on landing an agent up to their ears in Roscoe the sullen teen Vampire YA novellas.

So eBooks are no worse that that lovely hardcover book that’s going the way of the dinosaur.

Would I still publish traditionally given the opportunity? Yeah, probably … but only with a marketing guarantee.

For now, I have a rare writing window that’s opened up for me once more, and a great story unfolding on the page, so I’m dipping my toe in the big kids pool—I’m going to try my hand at selling the written word. I’m just going to try to do it in as businesslike a fashion as I can, starting with building a market for my product.

This is my next step in The Process. Time will tell if it’s the right step.