Why write short stories? Well, one answer is why not? It’s creative, it’s fun, it gives you a glow of satisfaction when you’ve finished one, and possibly submitted it. Let’s qualify the question: why write short stories as opposed to other kinds of fiction?
1. My first answer is in the (not very public health savvy) alternative nomenclature given to flash fiction – the smoke-long. Short stories are, if not bite-sized, then certainly coffee-break sized (or cigarette-break sized.) They’re good for tube and train journeys. In one sitting, you can experience the arc of the story and the character’s encounter with life and the subsequent change that occurs. That’s the idea behind these short story dispensing machines where you can choose reading times of 1, 3 or 5 minutes. Of course, writing short stories is all tied up with reading short stories. If you delight in the idea of reading a ‘smoke-long’ then it’s a delightful challenge to create your own.
2. My second answer is to do with the difference between novels and short stories. Well-known short story writer Tobias Wolff argues that a short story is harder to write than a novel, because no word can be wasted.
I prefer to write imperfect short stories, each new story expressing the themes I want to get across slightly more clearly. These two opposing points of view beg the question: can I cut my teeth on short stories before writing a novel? Does the one lead to the other, as it were? Tobias Wolff makes a compelling argument that it’s the other way round. You can see a snippet from an interview with him here:
I think they are very different things because a story involves a simple, singular thread (of course it’s possible to break this rule) and a novel involves intertwining threads. However, a short story has one big advantage over a novel: it’s short, so you can practise by writing several, and perhaps polishing and submitting one or two, without committing to a longer project. If you want to see the singular thread in action (while, at the same time, the rule is broken) take a look at Tobias Wolff’s story ‘Bullet in the Brain‘ or Katherine Mansfield’s ‘Miss Brill‘.
3. My third answer is to do with the market place. You can sell short stories. That contradicts the commonly cited truism that short stories (or short story collections) don’t sell. Surely I only have to come up with a few famous names, off the top of my head, to give the lie to that: Alice Munro, Annie Proulx, Roald Dahl, George Saunders. Also, to find contemporary writers, look further than the big presses. Take a look at the independent presses too – Comma Press, for example, although there are lots. In the UK, the Mslexia Guide to Indie Presses will give you a comprehensive overview.
This isn’t simply about stories – any product has to find its place in the market. Quality is always the price of entry, whether you’re selling salmon, socks or stories – or rather, there’s a bar you have to pass; the product has to be ‘good enough’ to sell. After that, you need to find the right fit for whatever it is you’re selling, and that comes from research, and – in the case of short stories – from accurately matching the story to the opportunity. The market for short stories is much bigger in the US than in the UK, but most of those selling opportunities are open to anyone. You may want nothing to do with market places, but if this is your main motivation then I can’t stress the importance of research enough. As in any form of self-employment, you don’t make money overnight. It takes hard work to build the business up. Making money from writing is no different.
1. Write a short story (perhaps giving up before the final edit).
2. Send it out to the first opportunity you see as if catching a tweet about a deadline were ‘fate’.
3. Get despondent when that opportunity doesn’t go your way or elated when it does (and repeat).
1. This is ongoing work. Research opportunities to publish short stories in English internationally, narrowing down to a few target publications. Do this by learning from other writers, finding websites that list opportunities for writers – I list a few here – and reading the calls for submissions very carefully. This is going to depend on the type of stories you are writing.
2. Also ongoing work: read short stories and discover what you like.
3. Separate the selling of the story from the writing of it, by giving each the time they need. Some people can write for an opportunity, but not everyone can do so – decide whether you’d rather write to a brief or write your own stuff and then see where it fits.
In terms of research, I promise you that the bigger danger is getting overwhelmed by opportunities, rather than a dearth of information.
There are so many books out there about writing short stories, it’s difficult to know which one to choose. The answer is to ask for recommendations. I’ve been teaching Creative Writing for a number of years and I’ve come across some good ones. I’ve listed out my favourite books on writing short stories on this page. I suggest getting an overview of classic narrative structure, too – that might be in a book on novel writing. Even if you deviate from it, it’s useful to know what it is.
You might want to, you might not – it depends how you motivate yourself. The main thing you need to do is to turn up and write. If a course would make you do that – go for it. If you think you can get into the habit of writing regularly without a course, then do that for a while and maybe go along to a half-day course locally to get a different perspective. If you’re in the UK, I highly recommend the Arvon Foundation – I’ve been several times as a punter and as a tutor – an Arvon week really is life-changing.
I’ve created a course called Writing Short Stories that you can take on Udemy. There’s a 30-day money back guarantee, so signing up is risk-free. Plus, I’ve got a free course up there called Starting to Write, so you can see if you like my approach first before signing up to the paid course.