  Short Stories
This week: Edited by: Legerdemain  
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The purpose of this newsletter is to help the Writing.com short story author hone their craft and improve their skills. Along with that I would like to inform, advocate, and create new, fresh ideas for the short story author. Write to me if you have an idea you would like presented.
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Knowing your Characters
I read a fascinating interview with Elizabeth Strout, a Pulitzer Prize winning author. Her book, Olive Kitteridge won the prize for fiction. The novel, named after the main character is actually a collection of short stories by different narrators in Olive's life.
I enjoyed reading Robert Birnbaum's interview for a few reasons. One, it was wonderful to see the short story still being acknowledged. The thought that a character of your making could inspire a collection of stories is appealing. Two, to read an author discussing her characters like family was interesting. It showed just how familiar she was with the people in her stories.
The rest of the interview goes on to talk about where she lives, her sense of home and how she writes. Robert spoke with her about her use of several narrators in the story. I certainly enjoyed the thoughts she provoked about my own writing. I have to go get the book now, lol, perhaps I'll update on a future newsletter.
I'd recommend reading the article. And to read more interviews and dicuss your work. Perhaps another person's perception of your characters could be a surprise. Hopefully, it's what we are doing here at WDC. Write on!
Leger~
http://www.themorningnews.org/archives/birnbaum_v/elizabeth_strout.php
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Excerpt: Thoughts trip and stumble through John’s mind as he is led down the dull grey corridor. The walls are an endless series of repetition, numbing and drab. Right, left, through the doors, around the corner, another bloody corridor. John glances up, the man remains facing forward.
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Excerpt: Finally we have arrived at Grandpa's old seaside cottage at Seashell Bay! We are here for a week and I am looking forward to much exploring. Mother is here with Grandpa and Samuel and I and Jonathan and Dad arrive tomorrow.
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Excerpt: Turning slowly, the dejected young girl walked away from the source of her humiliation. A group of pre-teens huddled together behind her, whispering and snickering just loudly enough so the sounds followed her across the playground. Shuffling along in clunky brown shoes, Kayce kicked at rocks and clumps of grass, wishing she could take out her anger on those kids in the same way.
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Excerpt: "Ladies and gents, due to global warning, Fred Industries has just made the decision that henceforth all personnel are required to use energy efficient transportation. Carpooling, bus travel, walking, or biking are all acceptable modes."
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Excerpt: Wit began the concert with his greatest number one single to date, Married Woman. He tired of singing it, especially since he never really liked it in the first place. The last song put on the album, and not even a song he wrote. He hated songs he did not write, but this song was his most popular.
Excerpt: Sleep eluded me. “Sleep, oh gentle sleep, how have I frightened thee?” Or something like that. I took Freshman English with its requisite Shakespeare, but was a long time ago. I rotated through the cycle of trying to sleep. Close eyes. Turn to my right side. Turn to my left side. Lay on my back. Open my eyes. Make up shapes on the ceiling. Slide off the bed. Do a couple of squats. Stretch. Yawn. Fluff my pillow. Lie back down and start the cycle all over again.
Excerpt: What if I can't do it? What if I'm not as good as I think I am? I thought as I drove down the road, letting out a soft sigh. After several seconds of running this thought in my head, I growled and shook it, trying to shake away my nervousness.
Excerpt: Seven months ago, my husband and I noticed Turk, our three year old Min Pin, growing depressed. Turk would plop himself on the couch and drop his small head down between his front paws. He would look at us with eyes that seemed to quiver with moisture. He ignored our pleading voices and the enticing toys and treats we proffered. Turk was lonely. We had to do something.
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Excerpt: He caught the warning signs that worse days approached again. Work he managed; the pressures there paled in comparison with what he faced when he returned home. Dan longed for consistency, but he could not expect that. His wife’s condition created turmoil at unpredictable intervals. He felt his hands shake and he clutched the briefcase tighter as he neared the door.
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This month's question: How well do you know your characters?
Last month's question: How do you envision your readers?
Maria Mize  : Thank you, Leger!
Comments on last month's newsletter:
peace  : I have heard the critique on "show ,not tell" from a few different sources regarding my work. In most arenas I love to be the antagonist but that certainly is not true here at wdc so I will begin by apologizing for my dissent.
Although I agree that "showing" should be an intrinsic component of good writing it quite often interferes with the steady flow of ideas. What I mean to say here is that all too often writers abuse this handy tool, even to the point of substituting it for intrinsic content.
I am aware that this is a personal quirk of mine but all too often I find myself reading something and skip into skim to forgo the flowery excesses of descriptive excursions, get me to the business end of the story!
Just my two cents worth.
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Short Stories: May 13, 2009 Issue [#3052]
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