STRANGER THAN NONFICTION

by Deborah Elliott-Upton

Ireland, one of my writing buddies, decided she wanted to try her hand at fiction. A character popped into her head one night in the middle of her ritual hour-long bubble bath before bed. (Said bath is where she usually reads.) The character wouldn’t leave her alone, and she now had the beginning of a plotline in tow. Ireland decided this fictional character required her own story. My friend put aside her regular nonfiction project in the works and determined she would write a short story. Writer’s Digest was sponsoring a short-short story contest and although the deadline was perilously close, my Irish friend was convinced she could finish the project in time. She didn’t say the words, but I imagine she thought: How long could it take?

By the time she thought about asking my opinion, Ireland had moved onto wondering where to begin. She’d never wandered into the camp of fiction writing, but had thousands of nonfiction credits to her name.

“You teach a class on this, right?” she asked. “At the college?”

“Yes, and online,” I said. “Though I’m not currently teaching either.”

“So you could just give me a handout or something or better yet, just tell me how to write short fiction?”

“It’s not quite that simple,” I hedged. “That particular class is an intense six weeks course. Many questions and answers come up that aren’t necessarily in the handouts. You learn by doing,” I said. “By editing not only your work, but those of the other students, too. Studying any writer — especially one you admire — is worth your time. Who you read is as important as what genre you decide to write in.”

By her expression, these were not the answers she envisioned.

It’s a bit like picking up a paintbrush and expecting to turn out a Rembrandt. No matter how naturally talented, the first attempt isn’t likely to be a masterpiece. Without lessons, a person may be able to produce art, but with each practiced brushstroke leads to a better artist. Most of us, will create something more in tune with a kindergarten class than a museum-worthy canvas. We have to start somewhere. Making mistakes and learning from them make all the difference.

Just as a toddler takes many a spill before he masters walking, an artist or a writer also needs to learn what works and what doesn’t. Simply following the rules – or a handout – doesn’t a great writer make.

My friend began her story with characterization when she needed to start in the middle of the action, in media res. Conflict is where the story becomes important, not characterization. Sure, we must care about the characters, but if nothing is “happening” on the page, the reader likely will go onto another story.

Conflict, action, setting, characterization, pacing and dialogue are all important to the story and there are certain formats and rules writers adhere to in telling a good story. Yes, some rules are broken, but You have to know them first to know how to break them.

Breaking rules is fun. In my short story, “A Piece of Christmas” for Tony Burton’s Carols and Crimes, Gifts and Grifters, (the anthology’s profits go to the Toys for Tots program) I did not follow the traditional rules of a holiday story. There is no likable hero involved at the beginning or end. There is no happy ending, although I do believe it is a satisfying ending. There is no comeuppance for the bad boy. I enjoy writing these type of stories, but there isn’t a wide market for such stories. I hope one day these orphans will find a home, but until then, writing them calms the Muse.

Ireland finished the first draft of the short story. I told her where she could tighten the storyline and suggested she experiment with combining several characters into one since she had too many for the short word count limit. The second draft was more succinct and the pacing faster. She’d begun in the middle of the conflict and already I cared more about her main character.

I encouraged her to enter it in a few more contests to garner feedback from judges. Hopefully, each critique will provide baby steps to the final, polished story that can stand on its own two feet. All in all, it’s a good story and she’s a great writer.

As for me, I’m off to take a bubble bath and see what characters I find floating around in my unconscious waiting to be plunged into the middle of a conflicting struggle. Hmm, who shall I murder in this one?