Where Do Short Stories Come From?

Generalities

Every author would answer this question this in a different way, but most might say, in general, “everywhere, if you are paying attention. It is true. I can sit in a café for two hours and come up with three or four concepts for a short story (sometimes even a novel). Not all will be viable stories, for lack of substance or lack of talent. But there are other general guidelines. “Write about what you know.” Not a bad idea, but many of us love research and learning something new as part of inventing a story. “Use something from your own life.” Similar to the last one, but perhaps more about relationships, human struggle, loss, triumphs, etc. Hemingway did both, writing about boats and fishing, about being in a war (he was a journalist and ambulance driver), bullfighting in Spain, and more. Still, one could expand beyond that by drawing on the experiences of acquaintances or researching lives. “Write about what you fear.” That’s a good one. Poe did this, though perhaps not always what he feared, but what he knew others feared: being buried alive, for instance.

I need an idea for a story!

I have a notebook full of ideas. (It’s really a binary file synced across my computer and mobile devices.) Some are just titles, or one line, or a paragrapher a brief outline. A few a little drawings or mind maps. As I inhabit a week-long sabbatical to get a jump start on a collection of short stories, I flipped (virtually) through my notebook and found the three generalities. I had written each at the top of the sheet, and then, beside each one, written why the opposite idea was a better one. But the anti-prompts required research, and I did not have easy access to my library, and researching and taking notes on an iPad can be time-consuming. Since I tend to eschew the common, I thought, why not embrace it? The one that caught my attention was “write about what scares you.” That sounds promising. I couldn’t think of anything. I mean, I could think of some things: a loved one dying or being in an accident or contracting a debilitating and painful disease. But those were common fears. I needed something a little different. Frustrated, I turned to the other prompts: “write what you know.” I know a good many things, I suppose, and trained or educated in a few. I went through them. Ah! Navigating boats upon the ocean! It is one of the pleasures of my life. And there was more—I was afraid of being lost at sea! Drowning, with only water all about, seems terrifying. Now I had two the prompts to use. (The third, requiring me to drown at sea, was one I was not willing to do at this moment.)

I’m drowning!

I almost always outline my stories first, even if only in brief. But I didn’t want to do that this time because I wanted to deal with fear. So I just wrote. After a few paragraphs, I stopped and looked at what I had. Good, I think. The reader (and me) are asking, “how did he get here?” “What happened to the boat?” “Who is he so angry at?” “What will happen to him?” That’s a good start. From there, I could think about the back story. The character or characters. A theme and perhaps sub themes. A structure suggested itself…a plot…and then a theme I cared about. I was off to the races.

A story is born

I finished the first draft this morning. I love the process of beginning a new project: part inspiration, part serious thinking, part art, part science, part experience and training. It still needs a lot of work. A lot of work. Tightening up the prose. (Lose the adverbs!) Fixing discrepancies, working out holes, rewriting triteness. Pondering pace, antonyms, and characterization. What happened to the poor guy (or maybe it’s a girl)? I won’t tell you, of course, because I want you to read the final version. But there’s a taste of the process and the content for you.