Celebrating Short Story Month

It’s Short Story Month, also known as May. Why they didn’t pick February—the shortest month—I’ll never know.

What is a short story? According to Wikipedia, it is a prose tale you can read in one sitting, one that evokes a single effect or mood. That ‘single effect’ idea can be difficult to understand. Edgar Allan Poe called it ‘unity of effect.”

Think of the effect as the emotional response induced in the reader by the story. The intent of a short story is to produce a single such effect, and every paragraph, sentence, and word of the story must support that goal.

There’s something ancient and primal about the short story form. It hearkens back to stories our tribal ancestors told around the fire at night. Those storytellers had to hold the attention of tired listeners as they fought fatigue, so had to keep them focused and interested.

There’s something new and trendy about the short story form. It’s well suited to our fast-paced age of commuting, smart phones, and hectic schedules. Given our brief snatches of time available for reading, it’s easier to enjoy and appreciate a short story than to maintain focus on a novel read a piece at a time.

I know what you’re thinking: Thanks for all that background, Poseidon’s Scribe, but how do I celebrate Short Story Month? Sadly, this occasion hasn’t captured the public’s imagination yet. There are no relevant songs to sing, or particular food items to prepare and eat. It’s not a traditional gift-giving month. No short story parades appear on the schedule.

However, don’t despair. I’ve come up with six ways you can celebrate:

  • Read. Well, this one’s obvious. You can celebrate by reading one or more short stories. You can re-read a past favorite or find a new one. I could crassly suggest you read one of mine, but I’ll resist the temptation.
  • Analyze. Select your favorite short story and re-read it, but this time, jot down what you like about it, your favorite parts, and maybe some notes about the overall structure and plot. You’ll likely learn new things and come away with a deeper appreciation for the story.
  • Write. Even if you haven’t written a story since your school days, you might find it fun to write your own short story. You have a story to tell, and short stories are, by definition, short. You can do this.
  • Submit. As long as you took the time to write one, you might as well submit it for publication. You can use The Submission Grinder to search for potential markets. Pick one, follow its submission guidelines, and submit your story.
  • Promote. We’re in the age of social media, so tell the whole world how you’re celebrating this month. Whether you love a short story by another author, or had your own short story published, tell everyone about it on Facebook, or on Twitter using @shortstorymonth, or on some other platform.
  • Party! Invite some like-minded friends over to your place. Decorate using themes from your favorite short story, and serve appropriate food based on that story. The highlight of the party will be when someone does a dramatic reading (or acting) of the story.

And you thought another Short Story Month would pass you by without notice. Not so. Now you know six ways to celebrate it. Lucky for you, this is just the sort of helpful service provided free by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Outsmarting Your Inner Dinosaur

You’re working hard, but not making progress toward your real writing goals. You just can’t seem to get to those tasks you know will help you write better in the long term.

The problem: your inner dinosaur is holding you back. I’ll tell you the way to outsmart the beast.

I’ll credit Al Pittampalli with the idea, though he wasn’t specifically discussing fiction writing. I’ll first summarize the content of his article, but I encourage you to read it here. It’s well worth reading, and Mr. Pittampalli writes in a compelling style using a wonderful driving simile.

Here’s the short version. True productivity isn’t getting more tasks done; it’s getting the important tasks done. You’re spending time in “Maintenance Activities,” those normal actions that seem urgent. You should work on “Growth Activities,” those tasks activities that would truly help you in the long term (education, extended projects, self-improvement) but require some effort now.

The reason you don’t get to your Growth Activities is that the dinosaur part of your brain (the primitive limbic part) sees them as a threat to your survival and overrules the prefrontal cortex (the rational part). The dinosaur takes over right at the moment of decision. Simple willpower won’t defeat it because the dinosaur is clever and relentless.  

Two ways to combat the dinosaur are (1) implementation intentions (tasks expressed as if-then statements, linked to situational cues), which outwit the dinosaur for a while, and (2) the Grit Protocol (commitment to another person that you intend to keep your implementation intentions—reinforced by brief daily meetings). These commitments give the dinosaur a greater fear than the Growth Activity—admitting failure to keep a promise.

How does this apply to writing fiction? Let’s say your long-term goal is some variant of this: to write better fiction that sells well. During your Grit Protocol meeting with your partner, you’ll state that goal aloud. You’ll then list some Growth Activities that would move you toward your goal. Examples of Growth Activities include:

  • Writing some number of words per day
  • Participating in Nanowrimo
  • Taking a course or workshop in fiction writing
  • Doing writing exercises (not necessarily stories) that focus on improving known weak points
  • Learning about marketing fiction
  • Reading one or more books about writing fiction
  • Reading some classic fiction or fiction in your genre and doing an analysis of why those books sell well.

So far, the dinosaur has prevented you from getting to tasks like these. The next step is to break your chosen growth activity into sub-tasks you could realistically accomplish in one day. Then turn those tasks into implementation intentions expressed as if-then statements with a triggering cue. Examples include:

  • If the kids are in bed, then I’ll spend an hour writing
  • If dinner is over, then I’ll write 1700 words without distraction toward my Nanowrimo goal
  • If it’s my lunch break, then I’ll research upcoming nearby writing courses and select the best one for me.
  • If I’m on my bus/subway/train commute, then I’ll write a setting description of that commute to improve my ability to set a scene.
  • If I’m drinking my morning coffee, then I’ll scan some blogs about marketing fiction and make a list of marketing actions I should take.
  • If I’ve just gotten into bed, then I’ll read another chapter of On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King.
  • If I’m just sitting down at my home computer, then I’ll make a list of the things I liked most about that novel I just finished reading, and identify techniques the author used to entice me.

When the triggering cue occurs, execute the task you’ve chosen and to which you’ve committed yourself. Then report that success to your partner at the next day’s meeting.

You’re on your way to accomplishing your most important writing goals by outsmarting your inner dinosaur. Now, excuse me. I’m being reminded it’s time to eat by the dinosaur inside—

                                                            Poseidon’s Scribe