Short Stories, and the Art of Creating Them

This piece for National Short Story Month was written with beginning writers in mind, but readers are welcomed. We’re all one great big happy family here. After all writers are readers too.

A lot of people don’t know that May is National Short Story Month.

Yep, you can thank Dan Wickett for that.

Don’t you just love bite-size fiction?

I did a live presentation some years back titled The Art of the Short Story. In preparing the notes for said exhibition I borrowed a large portion of material from a fellow author. She is a veracious source of information and her published works are impressive. For the presentation I also offered my own work  as examples.

Word Count Matters.

Many of the contest that you may submit to are going to have a maximum amount of words allowable. Occasionally, you’re given even more of a challenge with a minimum as well as a maximum. Those were always fun for me because it stimulated more than just creativity.

Learn how to use ‘word count’ in whatever program you are using to write and check it frequently.

No Nonsense

Another benefit of writing short stories verses novels is you don’t have to fluff up the word count with what feels like senseless babbling to make sure you hit the mark.

Of course, sometime the story takes on a life of its own and it’s no longer a short story. Your creation may grow into a novella or a novel. Heck, it might even become epic! Imagine your story spawning generations of creative little sub stories …

At any rate, I think it’s best to let the story tell itself and you just breathe life into it. And always have fun with it.

But always keep word count in mind, especially when riding short stories. Be careful not to lose track by getting too attached or involved as I mentioned in an earlier post.

Writing Short Works Helps You Hone Your Writing Skills.

When every word counts, writers tighten their prose. They eliminate filler words, passive voice, weak writing, or tangential thoughts—pretty much anything that requires extra words. No um’s or uh’s or well’s. No “was walking” when “walked” suffices. No “walked slowly” when “strolled” captures the mood better. No drifting into a daydream that doesn’t advance the plot.

These things slip in when we write novels. And just think how strong your novels will be when you develop these stylistic choices and apply them to your longer works.

The Short Story Can Be Used to Introduce One of Your Longer Works.

Regardless of the theme of the anthology, you can write a companion piece to an existing novel or series. This can be an excellent marketing tool.

For example, say you have a paranormal romance series you’d like to promote, and you have an opportunity to contribute to a horror anthology. You could tailor your horror story so that it’s a prequel or sequel to the first book in your paranormal romance series. You might even choose to weave in a little romance so readers have a better understanding of what to expect in the series. As long as the story meets the requirements for the anthology, you’ll have a great introduction to your longer work placed in front of an already interested audience.

Sample the Buffet

 The short story format allows you the opportunity to explore different genres without committing time to compose a longer work.

If you are new to writing and aren’t sure what genre you’re interested in, try them all. 

If you are seasoned, take the opportunity to try something completely different from what you normally write.

For example, a romance writer might choose to craft a futuristic sci-fi story.

What do you gain from that, you may ask. 

Well, not only do you get to flex your creative muscles, the change of scenery might recharge your batteries and give you a fresh perspective on the novel you’re working on.

Furthermore, you may just find another genre that you enjoy writing in and a new fan base should you decide to become a multi-genre author.

What? How? Where?

Okay, so you want to write a short story — try your hand at. You believe you have a fabulous idea, but you don’t know what to do.

If you are in school — high school, college or university, get active. Submit to as many competitions as possible.

Short stories are ideal for genre driven magazines, anthologies, digests, newsletters, co-ops, etc. 

Potential acceptance equals potential income and/or exposure.

There are literally thousands of genre magazines that accept submissions. If you have an agent great. If you don’t that’s okay, you can submit it yourself; that is if they accept direct submissions. Its easy enough to find those answers with a little research.

All Aboard!!

Short stories work well in creating a series. Think of each new release as an episode.

A series can be done on a weekly or monthly basis. This can be fun without being time consuming.

There are so many ways to get started but you’ve got to write it first – at least a draft and then (when you know the rules) make it fit. Now place a stamp on it or hit the send button and you’re on your way.

At this point, I don’t know if I’ve said too much or not enough [giggle] so I’ll do a quick little summary and get back in the garden.

How to Publish Short Stories

  1. Pick a genre. Decide where you will submit, read the rules and regulations and write within those guidelines. ✅
  2. Submit your piece once it is complete and polished.
  3.  Enter as many Short Story Contests as you can. Keep in mind you cannot send the same story to multiple publishers. In most cases you must wait for a letter of acceptance or rejection before you can send that same piece to another publisher.
  4. Rub elbows with other authors, figuratively, of course. Collaborate on anthologies when possible.
  5. Create and publish your own collection of short stories.
  6. Do not pay to enter a short story contest.
  7. Before you submit a piece, know whether you are being paid by the word or by the story/submission. 

Here’s wishing you all success!

Right on? Write on!

Posthumous Accolades (A Toast to Dan) 🥂

Dan succumbed to a heart condition in September. I hear he was a gentle, soft spoken man. Rest in eternal peace Dan Wickett, and thank you for giving us National Short Story Month.
Daniel Earl Wickett, 1966-2025

I suggest further reading about Dan and what he’s done for the writing community in this article found at  Ann Arbor Chronicle

A Glimpse at Savannah Dawn’s Unconsecrated Visions (Friday’s Free-For-all)

Every young girl has dreams. Some dream of being a supermodel or a nurse, a doctor or a fireman, a teacher, a writer or a rock star. Savannah Dawn has dreams too. But she mostly dreams of a life without nightmares.

Chapter 1

My name is Savannah Dawn and I was named for the place of my conception, whatever that means. I’ll be eleven years old come next March. I love to swim and I hate school. I guess that’s all I know to say about myself except sometimes I see things… like in a dream. Not the stuff most folks talk about. I’ve never dreamed of falling off a cliff or being naked in public and besides those things aren’t scary. As a matter of fact I think dreams like that are silly. There aren’t any cliffs around here and the only time I take my clothes off is to bathe and then I put them right back on.

The dreams used to bother me but they don’t anymore.  When I was younger I would wake up crying in the middle of the night. Mama would bring me a glass of milk and sit beside me in the dark. I’d tell her what I saw and she’d say, “they’re just nightmares honey; nothing but unconsecrated visions.” As I got older I felt like Mama didn’t want to hear about the things that troubled my slumber. A few times it seemed to rile her so I learned to stay quiet and get my own milk. When she mentioned it to the doctor I told him I didn’t see things anymore. But I did.

Most times what I dream comes to pass but every so often it doesn’t and that’s a good thing. It gets tiresome seeing all the sorrow in peoples past and the tragedy some are headed for. Too bad I never saw what lay in store for Papa; it would have saved us all a heap of sorrow.

Preacher Zeb calls them revelations and says I shouldn’t tell a soul about what I see except him. Zeb is an ex-Marine and a retired pastor. He was also my papa’s best friend. Last summer he baptized me in the Neches River with only God as our witness. We made a pinky swear to keep it secret. A pinky swear ain’t like a promise to God – it’s a promise not to tell Mama. She would have had a fit knowing I washed my sins in dirty water not to mention I nearly drowned while waiting on the Holy Spirit.

My sister got the spirit once at The First Assembly of God in downtown Trinity. She was sitting on the front pew making goo-goo eyes at Brother Tim when all of a sudden she went limp as a dish rag. The brother hollered ‘hallelujah’ and flew down from the pulpit. He smacked her on the forehead then Jodi jumped up and started shaking all over and everybody went crazy. It took me a minute to realize what was going on; it took Mama about a minute and a half. Jodi said she felt like a movie star when the whole congregation wanted to touch her. She done it so folks would think she was special, that’s what she said. I always thought she was special so I didn’t care one way or the other but it sure was funny watching her dance around with her hands in the air shouting alley baba – naba -naba daba- daba doo. She was doing a different dance after we got home and Mama whipped her for blaspheming the Holy Ghost.

I don’t like referring to the Lord’s essence as a ghost. Mama says they’re the same thing but I know she’s never seen either one or she wouldn’t say that.  I also know spirits don’t always live in a body; some of them live in drinks of alcohol….

This twisted little gem is only 99¢ at your favorite retailer.

The audio (amusingly narrated by Kelley Mack) is available at Audible, Amazon & iTunes.

HaPpY FriDaY Y’all.

Friday’s [Free for Realz] Free-for-All (And HapPy Summer)

Here’s a morsel of Roses from Ishmael, a snack of a story you can read on a potty break, yeah it’s that short. There are links below if it appeals to you.

…Ishmael yanked the eighteen pack of Bud Light from the counter and strolled to his truck.

Just outside of the city limits he reached across the seat and twisted the first cap off of a tepid bottle. The clanking of the glass was comforting and the warm beer eased the queasiness in his stomach. He downshifted and let the black Chevy pull itself along the narrow country lane as he sipped the Bud and drank in the scenery.

The summer heat had taken a toll on the coastal Bermuda that waved its browned tops as he drove past. Ishmael nodded and gestured back, feeling a kinship. But relief was on the way, the weatherman said as much when he interrupted the radio host to announce tornado warnings in effect until eight o’clock this evening.

As he pulled into the drive he sucked the last bit of suds from the third bottle, took a deep breath and sighed. Her car was parked in the usual place. He felt hopeful, nervously adjusting the flowers and dusting the fallen petals to the floorboard before popping a wintergreen disc into his mouth.

The mint clung to his cheek like paste as he gagged, the stench of evergreen causing him to heave with panic. A mouth full of juniper berries was an unpleasant memory to say the least. His tongue darted and swept in search of spit and after several sweeps he managed to be rid of it. When the candy landed Ishmael kicked at the dusty drive covering it and his boot in a fine white powder.

“Honey I’m home.” He called from the kitchen. “Arianna? Sweetheart? Are you still here?” he spoke gently as he made is way toward the guest bedroom.

The squishing of his boots on wet carpet went unnoticed as did her silent cries. “You’re in there aren’t you?” He asked pressing his hand to the door. “Speak to me, please?” Ishmael ran his fingers across the buckled paint and continued, “Ari- I’m sorry…

Get the rest of the story [free for realz] at these stores.

Tell Amazon about a lower price here (where Roses from Ismael is .99 ¢ because I’m not exclusive. Well you know, I ain’t married to none of `em. ) Just scroll down on the left and share a free link. Thanks.

And yesterday was the summer solstice (aka 1st day of summer) so HaPpY summer y’all!