Kim Colley

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Lessons from the Slushpile

I've been trying to boil down to their essences the elements of a short story. This is what I've come up with:

(a) The main character (b) has a problem (c) which is resolved at the end.

You would think that (a) would be a no-brainer, but I've read a few short stories that lacked a clearly defined main character. Rather the story is about a world or a place or, worst of all, a premise. Without a character to relate to, your reader will have no interest in your short story. Sorry, that's just the way it is.

Now, as to the problem, that's where it starts to get tricky. The problem can come in a myriad of forms. Maybe your character wants something that he doesn't have. Maybe he has something he doesn't want. Maybe he lacks something he doesn't know he needs, and the problem is that he needs to figure out that he needs this something.

Let me use as an example a story most of you are probably familiar with, O. Henry's "The Ransom of Red Chief." The main character's problem is that he needs money. He decides that the best way to get money is to kidnap the boy who calls himself Red Chief and hold him for ransom. The twist occurs when the main character discovers that Red Chief is a wretched little brat. Now the MC has two problems, and must decide which is the worst -- which one must he resolve, even at the expense of the other? In the end, he decides that Red Chief is his bigger problem and gives the kid back. It's been years since I read the story, but he might even have had to pay the father to take the kid back.

Not all stories have to have the problems compounded like that to be successful, but there must be at least one problem that the main character cares about and has to struggle to resolve. If there's no problem, there's no conflict. If there's no struggle, there's no tension. Conflict and tension are what keep your readers turning the pages after they've established a connection with the main character.

And finally, please, please resolve the problem. It can be an ambiguous resolution -- I'm okay with that. But resolve it. For instance, in the Raymond Carver short story, "Fat," the main character relates an event that seemingly has no connection with her life, but parallels begin to emerge. At the end, Carver leaves her musing as to what she will decide to do. He doesn't tell you her decision, but you can infer it by everything she's said and done up to the end. Or if you want to be a traditionalist -- and I have no problem with that -- resolve the problem clearly. But resolution is what keeps your reader from throwing your story across the room in rage at the end.

So, that's my opinion on what makes a successful short story. What's yours?

1 Comments:

At 12:49 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thanks for this, Kim. I don't have any short story wisdom to share, but it does give me focus for a story that I would like to send out.

 

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