Guest post: “The Art of Writing Flash Fiction” by Sarina Dorie

The Art of Writing Flash Fiction

by Sarina Dorie

 

If a short story falls under a thousand words (1500 words in some markets), it is considered “flash fiction” or “micro fiction.” With a number of new markets out there publishing flash fiction: Penumbra, Daily Science Fiction and Flash Fiction Online being a few among many, it is a plentiful market to send to. Because writing short, succinct stories is a skill I wanted to develop, there is a high demand for flash fiction, and it takes less time to write flash fiction than a long story (in theory), I decided I wanted to take a stab at it. When Daily Science Fiction opened about three years ago, Wordos, my speculative fiction writing critique group in Eugene, Oregon, decided we wanted to dissect flash fiction in order to hone our skills and see what makes a short-short story work. It isn’t surprising that because of our critiques and dissections, quite a few writers from our critique group went on to sell flash to Daily Science Fiction.

What we noticed about these stories is that they were tightly written, limited details, often had an interesting idea, a twist or punch line at the end, and were emotionally powerful or shocking or funny. The format these stories had been written ranged from someone was telling a story to a friend, in the form of a letter or letters in an epistolary fashion, were written like a fable, joke or essay, or used some other unusual writing device to tell a story. Many of these stories weren’t even traditional stories in the sense that there was a character arc, plot or conflict. Still, there was something that happened in each “story” that made it a catchy, edgy or worthwhile. These are just my observations, as well as some that I remember from members of Wordos. My advice to someone genuinely interested in breaking into the flash fiction market is to read and analyze lots of flash fiction and decide what it is about each piece that made the editor choose it.

As a result of studying the market and trying to think in the “short” mindset, I wrote about twenty flash fiction stories in a few months. Some of them I submitted to my critique group and got feedback on, some of them I later turned into slightly longer short stories, and some of them I left unfinished because there wasn’t enough there to create a story—but I didn’t feel guilty about not finishing because they were so short and I considered them experiments. Though I had been submitting stories to magazines for several years, it was my flash fiction stories that first sold. The four pieces I first sold in 2011 were “Zombie Psychology” to Untied Shoelaces of the Mind, “A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting Humans” (which won the Whidbey student choice award), “Losing One’s Appetite” to Daily Science Fiction and “Worse than a Devil” to Crossed Genres. From there, I went on to sell slightly longer short stories as well as more flash. After building up my resume with short stories, I sold my novel, Silent Moon, and then my novella, Dawn of the Morning Star.

Whether it was the short format that enabled me to practice my writing skills more often, or the feedback I got that helped me improve before going on to longer pieces, this process worked well for me. Is your process working for you? Would writing something shorter help you become more succinct in your skills?

 

 

Sarina Dorie brings to her writing background experience working as an English teacher in South Korea and Japan, working as a copyeditor and copywriter, and reading countless badly written stories. Sarina’s published novel, Silent Moon, won second place in the Duel on the Delta Contest, second place in the Golden Rose, third place in the Winter Rose Contest and third in the Ignite the Flame Contest. Her unpublished novel Wrath of the Tooth Fairy won first place in the Golden Claddagh and in the Golden Rose contests. She has sold short stories to over thirty magazines and anthologies including Daily Science Fiction, Cosmos, Penumbra, Sword and Laser, Perihelion, Bards and Sages, Neo-Opsis, Flagship, Allasso, New Myths, Untied Shoelaces of the Mind, and Crossed Genres, to name a few.

Her science fiction novella Dawn of the Morningstar is due to be published with Wolfsinger Press next year. Silent Moon is currently available through Soul Mate Publishing and Amazon.

For more story problem remedies, editing tips and short story writing advice, go to Sarina Dorie’s website at: www.sarinadorie.com/writing

 

Guest post: “Sniffing Out An Agent” by Huskyteer

Sniffing Out An Agent

by Huskyteer

 

Everyone seems to be a writer, these days, and everywhere – at least, every town in the UK – seems to be having a Literary Festival. The second week in September, it was the turn of Battersea, in South London, and among the many events offered to readers and writers in the area was an ‘Agent-Led Dog Walk’.

Approaching a literary agent can feel intimidating. It’s a relationship that may last the whole of an author’s writing career, so it’s important to get things off to a good start. Yet agents are busy people who may not have time to spare for answering questions while they’re at work, and may not feel like it during their leisure hours. Nobody wants to come across as pushy, or be That Writer who backs an agent into a corner at a party and shoves a manuscript under their nose, but many of us have things we’d like to find out.

The dog walk was a chance to chat with an agent in a less formal environment, while also getting some exercise and having some fun. There’s nothing like a dog for creating an informal atmosphere and a topic of lively conversation. The £5 event fee would go to Battersea Dogs & Cats Home.

As a dogless writer, I’d happily have signed up for a charity dog walk even without the additional carrot (or bone) of chatting with an agent. Besides, perhaps dog-friendly agents would be more receptive than the average to my talking-animal stories? I went along to find out.

The Sunday of the walk turned out to be a beautiful morning, and a couple of dozen literary hopefuls gathered in Battersea Park. We were introduced to the four dogs and their agents, then we split into groups for an hour of walking and talking.

I had checked the agents’ websites beforehand, but none of them stood out as the perfect match for my writing, so I went by dog. My pick was Maisie, who had brought Jo Unwin of the Jo Unwin Literary Agency. She (Maisie) was a medium-sized brown dog with setterish ears who looked like a bundle of high energy fun. Sure enough, I was to spend much of the next hour throwing an increasingly soggy and ruptured tennis ball and remembering every now and then that I probably ought to be networking or something.

Jo very fairly made time to talk to each of us individually, and we also sat down as a group to drink coffee, ask questions and receive advice. I also seized the chance to bestow some scritches on Maisie, who was initially glad of the rest after jumping in and out of the duck pond but quickly grew bored with all this talking.

Some of what we were told was familiar to me from my obsessive reading around the submissions process, but it made a big difference hearing it in person. I might not be able to reproduce that experience, but here’s what we learned:

 

  • Be professional. Find an agent who works with your genre, and address them by name in your cover letter.
  • Identify what’s unique about your book. Imagine you’re in the pub, talking about a book whose title you can’t quite remember; what’s your book’s “that one with the…”?
  • Sell yourself – but be relevant. List publications, prizes, and any background information that shows you’re especially qualified to write the book you’ve written, but don’t talk about your lifelong dream of being a writer, or how much your kids loved the book.
  • Should you say your book has series potential? That depends if it does; is what you’re planning a true sequel, or are you too lazy to think of a new scenario, or too fond of your characters to let them go?
  • Only submit when you think your manuscript is as good as it can be. It won’t be, but don’t send a draft you know is flawed and expect an agent or editor to leap at the chance of sorting it out for you.

 

As well as a deeper knowledge of what agents might be looking for, and how they like to be approached, I’ve gained an opening should I ever have a project I feel would be a good fit for Jo (“It was so lovely to meet you on the Battersea dog walk. I was the one who threw the ball for Maisie over and over and over again”). It was also lovely to swap notes with other local writers on works in progress and how far we’d come.

You might not be lucky enough to find a similar event in your own neighbourhood, but if you’re involved in a local arts festival, why not try setting one up? And if you’re a literary agent with a canine friend, consider turning your daily dog walk into an opportunity to help up and coming authors while also publicising your agency. The writers will thank you, and so will your dog.