Insights

Hints & Misconceptions

I haven't had a chance yet to count the number of entries so far to the Hint Fiction contest, but there are a lot and more coming every hour as the deadline approaches. Remember, the contest ends this Friday at midnight here on the good ol' east coast, so make sure you get those submissions in! Yesterday Ben White did another great blog post about very very very short stories, which played off my last blog post, which played off Ben's last blog post, which ... well, you know how it goes. Anyway, here's some of what he has to say:

A story implies motion. It’s not just description. Something needs to change.

With regards to the twitter-sized fiction that I read on a daily basis, this means that the reader should be able to at least infer some change taking place, either before, during, or after the actual words of the piece itself. After all, this isn’t a summary or a synopsis. We’re talking about an iceberg here: the tip is showing above the water, but we know the vast majority of all that ice is underneath the surface.

Thankfully Ben and I see eye to eye on these extremely short stories. We've talked many times about their strengths and weaknesses. We've read our fair share of them that it's gotten to the point we can pretty much dissect one at once and decide whether or not it holds promise.

But the thing to remember with stories so short, so much more is left up to the reader's imagination and life experience to fill in the blanks. Say you write a story of 25 words or fewer about Pearl Harbor (why Pearl Harbor, I don't know, it just popped in my head for some reason; stay with me!). And for some reason a reader doesn't know much about Pearl Harbor -- doesn't know anything at all -- and attempts to read the story but just doesn't "get" it. Does that mean the story itself fails when another reader more familiar with Pearl Harbor understands what the story is about and hence "gets" it?

In the anthology, there are a few stories that deal with literary allusions. If a reader isn't familiar with a particular literary allusion, then that story will not have the same effect as it hopefully will on a reader who is in fact familiar.

Back when I was reading for the anthology, a writer submitted a very good story but I ended up passing on it because the story itself dealt too much with a recent current event. It was a story that, in a year or more, would not have the same effect on readers than it would have right there and then.

If Hint Fiction is in fact the tip of an iceberg as Ben says, then the question arises just how much of that tip needs to show. One of the biggest misconceptions of Hint Fiction (besides the fact people think it's easy) is that Hint Fiction is not supposed to make sense. That the stories should leave the reader completely baffled and scratching his or her head.

That's incorrect, of course. I hate always returning to Hemingway's six-word story, but it's the granddaddy of Hint Fiction so I feel compelled to mention it again and again:

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

Yes, we're not given a complete story here, only a hint, but the hint is enough to paint a pretty solid and effective picture. Mostly because readers are familiar with the idea of stillborn babies (or babies dying young).

The very first Hint Fiction story I ever wrote was a derivative knock off of Hemingway's. I simply changed the words around to "For sale: Trojan condom, never used" which by itself doesn't do much. But then I gave it a title:

AFTER THE PROM

For sale: Trojan condom, never used.

Those six words then took on a whole different meaning and a backstory was formed, all thanks to the addition of a title. Again, a tip of the iceberg is showing (which, in this context, could have a perverted meaning). Not too much, but not too little (again, get your minds out of the gutter!). As Goldilocks would say, "Just right." (I mean it!)

Sometimes writers don't give enough of a hint:

Jim turns on his computer. He stares at the screen, and screams.

Okay, so ... what exactly is happening here? Something, obviously, but there's not enough for a reader to fill in the blanks. Maybe with a helpful title, but even with the best title ever I can't imagine the story will improve much. Like Ben said before, a story implies motion. Yes, Jim is in motion -- turning on his computer, staring at the screen, screaming -- but without the reader knowing why Jim is doing those things, the story lacks substance and, most importantly, emotion.

Murder, Murder Everywhere

As of this moment, just over 140 stories have been submitted to the Hint Fiction contest. And I’m seeing the same trend in stories that I saw for the last contest and for the open reading period: murder and killing. It got so bad that at one point on Friday afternoon I sent Ben White this text:

Am starting to get sick and tired of the same old murder/killing stories.

He responded a few minutes later:

Me too! I reject 9 out of 10 just because … they’re so “meh” at this point. Murder without cause is an event. Not a story.

And I think that sums up perfectly what’s wrong with a good number of stories that have been submitted so far: the murder just happens without reason, and the reader is supposed to, what, care about this somehow? In fact, it’s even gotten to the point that the very best stories about murder and killing don’t impress much anymore.

I’m not alone. Ask editors what one of the biggest trends in stories they see is, and they’re apt to tell you murder and killing and any other form of violent crime. (Which all would make for an interesting study into the psyche of a writer … or maybe that writing about murder/killing is the easiest thing to write about, which says something completely different about our society.)

One of the main reasons I asked James Frey to be the final judge of this contest (besides the fact he’s James effin Frey) is because he’s genre neutral. Writers won’t, in theory, immediately assume that because he writes such-and-such, that’s what they need to submit. So that’s why I didn’t ask an established horror or mystery or science fiction writer to be the final judge. Not that there’s anything wrong with any of those genres — I’m a fan of them all — but oftentimes writers will manipulate their own stories to try to fit a judge’s sensibility instead of simply writing the very best stories they can.

So am I saying you shouldn’t write and submit stories that deal with murder and killing? No. But if you do, be aware that your story must be the greatest story ever written (hyperbole, yes, but you know what I mean). And keep in mind my previous post about story titles and how they’re even more important in Hint Fiction. Here’s an example of a typical murder/killing story:

Close Call

The cop pulls me over for speeding. He lets me off with a warning. Thank God he didn’t see the blood dripping from the trunk.

Okay, so what do we know here? Obviously that the narrator has something in his trunk (I'm assuming, of course, the narrator is a he) that’s dripping blood. It’s probably a body, but it could be a number of things. But let’s say it is a body. So what? Does the reader really care about a dead body in the trunk? Does the reader get any sense of the narrator’s character or motivation? Yes, it’s Hint Fiction, but is it good Hint Fiction?

Now let’s change up the title:

Because She Said No

The cop pulls me over for speeding. He lets me off with a warning. Thank God he didn’t see the blood dripping from the trunk.

The title certainly adds a new layer to the story. But is it necessarily interesting? More so than before, maybe, but still it’s a typical murder/killing story. Nothing too special here. It’s a story that many other writers would probably come up with at some point. And that’s the thing in all fiction, be it novel or story or hint: the goal is to write something that nobody but you would come up with. That’s the idea of being original.

Note the main reason I kept the submission process the same as last year — through the comments section — is a) I think it's more interesting this way and b) writers can see what's been submitted thus far. Just like in American Idol, you have the advantage of seeing your competition. So use it!

Just A Hint Of A Title

Titles are important -- be it a poem or a story or a novel -- but they are even more important in creating effective Hint Fiction. Last year I talked briefly about the importance of titles but Ben White just recently did a blog post where he says it even better:

The angle for a title (for fiction of any size) is usually a summary or some key/noteworthy words. Perhaps a rephrasing. Moby Dick is about, surprise surprise, Moby Dick (more or less). Most, perhaps even the “good” ones, don”t bring anything new to the table. Fine—but when you write a story that is only 140 characters or 25 words or less, that’s actually pretty inexcusable. You worked hard to cram as much story as you can into a sentence or two, and you’re telling me you couldn’t think of anything else to add? That title could’ve been a whole new element, supported a completely different layer of interpretation. It can do something.

With a novel, titles are often placeholders or descriptors (i.e. The Magician, or something else equally mundane and logical). With micro- and flash-fiction, the usual maxim is that every word counts. That’s actually a lie. There’s plenty of relative fluff even in really compelling stuff. Maybe it counts, but it’s not necessary. But if a title makes up 10-30% of the total word count, it’d better be necessary.

My rule of thumb for a nano title: if the story reads the same way with or without the title, then the title isn’t carrying its weight.

Ben and I actually talked about this last week, and he brought up a good point about the difference between nano fiction (or Twitter fiction) and hint fiction. For the stories Ben edits, writers are restricted to the 140 character limit. There is no room for a title. A story has to stand on its own with just the body of the story itself. Oftentimes, Ben told me, a story might be somewhat good but could be improved upon greatly by just the right title. By adding the right title a writer adds a new layer to the narrative (note, it is possible to make the story worse by adding the wrong title, which should be obvious but which I feel I should mention anyway). A reader will oftentimes glance at the title before reading the story, not really understanding the title's significance until they finish the story and look at the title again and then something clicks.

Ben gives an example of one of his own stories in his post (which you should read, of course), so I might as well give an example of one of my stories published recently. Except I'm going to show you the story first without its title.

She saw his picture in the paper and remembered waiting on him two days before: the lighter fluid, her quip about barbequing, his vacuous gaze.

If you're not familiar with this story, you're probably thinking Hmm, okaaaay ... Truthfully, the story doesn't work on its own. In fact, I'm positive Ben would reject it for Nanoism (for reason other than the fact it's actually 143 characters). There's an element that's missing. That element, of course, is a title. Now here's the story with the title included:

10 Items or Less

She saw his picture in the paper and remembered waiting on him two days before: the lighter fluid, her quip about barbequing, his vacuous gaze.

Now that that extra element has been add, the story becomes much more effective (at least I like to think so, though I am sort of biased). That's why a title is very important in Hint Fiction -- it gives the writer a chance to add another layer to the story, sort of cheating the 25 word limit.

Does your Hint Fiction story need to have a title? Not always -- the Hemingway piece certainly didn't -- but it definitely won't hurt.

"I'm Not Looking For More Money/Readership"

If the title of this post makes you go "huh?" then you're not alone. A couple weeks back I saw this posted in response to some question online that basically talked about making money for your writing. And considering who the writer was that posted the comment, I wasn't surprised at all, as this writer in question usually comes off as a douche.

Let's be honest here -- nobody creates art only for themselves. And I absolutely hate using the term art to begin with, but I guess that's the best way to describe novels and short stories and poems and whatever else. (Why do I hate using the term art? Because for some reason when I think of art I think of snooty assholes who want to talk about their amazing creations which usually aren't so amazing and treat everybody else like shit, and for the most part, writers aren't like that.)

You can't tell me that you're going to slave over your novel or story, spending hours and days and weeks and months, for no reason at all except the fact you feel it's your job as an artist to create something, and then when it's done you'll hide it away so nobody else will ever see it?

If that's the case, more power to you, but I'd say you fall into the .00001% of artists out there.

I know when I write something, I write it with the hopeful intent of eventually selling it. When I submit stories, I try to submit them to publications where, if accepted, they will be read by as many readers as possible.

Does that mean I'm not an arteest?

Now I'm no psychiatrist (I'm pretty sure the diploma I got in that cereal box wasn't real), but what I take away from that idiot writer's comment is simply a kind of defense mechanism. By saying "I'm not looking for more money/readership," the writer is basically ensuring that he will never fail. Because if he admits that yes, he would like more money/readership and more money or readers never comes, then there is cause for disappointment.

But you know what? Disappointment is just a part of being a writer. As writers we're disappointed all the time. That's just name of the game. Because we're writers, damn it, and that's what we do.

If that means I'll never be an arteest, then good. I'll take all the money/readership I can get.

P.S. A lot of great entries so far in the Penultimate Paragraph contest. Keep ’em coming in, folks! You have until Friday midnight to enter.

The Cost Of (Literary) Art

First, my sincere thanks to everyone who helped spread the word and became a fan of Hint Fiction on Facebook. We're already up to 190 fans, and that number grows every hour (or at least I hope that's the case; it's difficult to say as the thing just launched Saturday). Anyway, to call back to this post where I talked about literary journals and who really reads them, I was reminded about that back section of each Best American Short Stories. After the stories, after the contributors' notes, after the 100 other distinguished stories of that year (notice how that number is just 100, and not 500 or more like some other year best anthologies -- a marketing scam that I won't get into at the moment), you'll find the editorial addresses of American and Canadian magazines publishing short stories.

Now if you're familiar with this section, there are hundreds and hundreds of magazines listed, ranging from The New Yorker to Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine to journals like Kalliope (the journal of Florida Community College). Listed with almost all of the addresses and editor names is a dollar amount, some going as high as $40, some going as low as $9.95. These are the costs of a yearly subscription. Keep in mind that some magazines publish more frequently than others. Some put out twelve issues a year, while some put out two issues a year, or even just one issue.

Curious, I went through the most recent edition I have (2008, the one edited by Salman Rushdie) and tallied up all those subscription costs. Here's the grand total:

$3,572.55

Pretty costly, huh? And that's just the magazines that are listed. That doesn't include publications many of us are familiar with -- PANK and The Los Angeles Review and Space and Time and Monkeybicycle -- and magazines from other countries (not to mention anthologies). And that was just from two years ago; there may even be more listed in the 2009 edition, or maybe there's less.

Now even if someone had the extra cash to subscribe to all those magazines, there is absolutely no way he or she could read every story in every publication. It's just not possible. And even if they could read every single story in every publication, what about the online journals? What about the magazines published in other countries?

(But wait, you say. Obviously someone is reading all those stories in all those publications if they're listed. To which I say, Yes, Heidi Pitlor as series editor probably does go through every publication listed there, but I highly doubt she's reading every single story from beginning to end. Just like an editor will only read the first page or paragraph of a story in the slush pile, I'm fairly certain Ms. Pitlor only reads the first couple paragraphs of each story, and if they don't grab her immediately, she skips to the next one.)

Sometimes I feel I'm way too pessimistic with my posts, and I apologize for that. In case you haven't noticed, I can be rather cynical at times. Most importantly, I try to be realistic about the business of writing. Because it's a tough business, and oftentimes it's not fair, no matter how hard you try and how talented you are. And then when you look at that grand total, and think about all those hundreds and hundreds of magazines that you probably have never read or seen or even heard of, well, you might start to wonder just what is the point.