Originality is Overrated

There, I said it. This is a thought I’ve had for a while now, though it’s been difficult to find the right words to express it. I hope I’ve found them here.

As writers, the works of other writers are equal parts inspiration and limitation. Stephen King might inspire you to become a horror writer, yet you might avoid writing a novel set in a haunted hotel. That would be too much like The Shining, right? It wouldn’t be original.

You know what? Screw originality. Write what you want!

So many writers decide not to pursue ideas simply because they believe it’s already been done. But so what? If your idea’s been done before, do it differently. Do it better. Do it with that personal touch only you can provide.

I’ll give you an example. One of my best friends told me he always had this idea for a story. You know the theory that humans only use a small percentage of their brain power? In my friend’s story, he imagined a character who takes experimental drugs which grant him access to the rest of his brain. This character develops hyper intelligence and extrasensory perception.

However, my friend told me he’d never write this story. Why? Because of the film Limitless. If you haven’t seen it, it’s almost exactly the same idea my friend had.

Hearing this really bummed me out. My friend was so excited about this story, yet the film killed his dream of writing it. I’m sure you’ve observed (or even personally experienced) a similar phenomenon.

Want my opinion (even though it’s not entirely original)? A similar existing work should never, ever stop you from working on a great idea.

The film Limitless, by the way, is based on a novel called The Dark Fields by Alan Glynn. But did you know that Ted Chiang published a similar story a decade earlier entitled Understand? His was also about a normal guy who took a drug that granted supernatural intelligence. And if we go back even further to 1959, we’ll find Daniel Keyes’s Flowers for Algernon, yet another story about a scientifically sharpened intellect.

Though the methods and general mechanics might vary from story to story, each bears a core similarity to the others. I don’t necessarily agree with those who claim there are no original ideas. I just think writers can always find ways to take existing ideas and make them their own.

We see this all the time in fiction. People say dragons are overdone in fantasy, yet George R.R. Martin writes A Song of Ice and Fire and suddenly they’re resurrected. People say you can’t do anything original with zombies anymore, and then The Girl with All the Gifts becomes a hit.

Don’t let an existing story preclude you from writing something amazing. If your idea is similar to another, make it your own. Put your personal spin on it. Most important of all, write it.

Originality is overrated. But individual creativity—now that’s something to strive for.

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Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his fiancee and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. To stay current with Kyle’s work, subscribe to his email newsletter. He promises not to spam you.

The Gunslinger and Character Backstory

When writing characters, where do you start? Maybe a name, or a physical description, or some basic personality traits. Before long you’ll probably wonder how your character got the way he or she is now. Which is why it’s important for the story to start before it actually starts, if you get my meaning. That means character backstory.

Take, for example, Roland Deschain from Stephen King’s The Gunslinger. He’s a sombre, soft-spoken, mysterious type, and you probably would be too if you had a childhood like his—Roland’s mom was sleeping with his dad’s top advisor, for god’s sake. In fact, Roland’s past is so important to his present that we need to see it up close and personal. That means backstory.

But offering details on a character’s background is tricky. Constant flashbacks interrupt the flow of a progressing story, and dropping little details into the narrative can sometimes come across as expository. For example, Character A says, “Remember when you had more fingers?” Character B frowns and says, “Sure. I’ll never look at blenders the same way again.”

Of course these characters remember that moment. In fact, the only thing a writer does by including this exchange is tell reader exactly what’s going on. Which is about as subtle as a slap to the face.

King, however, handles the backstory of The Gunslinger perfectly. It’s a novel that’s very much about the past, a novel where each character is shaped and motivated by events which happened long before. These events are so important, in fact, that it won’t suffice to reference them through dialogue or brief description. So here’s what King does, and does very well: He references characters we’ve never met before, then explains who those characters are in subsequent flashbacks.

For example, a boy from New York City named Jake Chambers suddenly appears in the Roland’s world without explanation. Jake tells Roland that he can’t remember anything about how he got there, so we’re left to wonder. That, however, would be quite the fraying loose end. So King gives us a brief flashback.

Fortunately, it’s not just a flashback for the sake of a flashback. We learn two very important details from it: One, that Jake died before coming to the gunslinger’s world, and that is perhaps why he’s there. And two, that Jake was somehow sent there by the man in black, who is the gunslinger’s arch nemesis (excuse the lack of actual names—it’s all about the mystery, baby).

I’m drawn to this aspect of King’s novel because I struggle a lot with character backstory in my writing. It’s hard to know what to give and when to give it, but it’s a skill that can be developed through practice and careful study of the pros.

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Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his fiancee and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. To stay current with Kyle’s work, subscribe to his email newsletter. He promises not to spam you.

The Question of Simplistic Morals in Epic Fantasy

What’s one of the key differences between J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings and George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire?

Nope, I don’t mean the treatment of dragons. I’m not thinking of dwarves. And no, I’m not referring to uses of the word “fucking.” I think the key difference between these two giants of the genre is their treatment of morals.

The Lord of the Rings has clearly defined sides: The Fellowship is good. Sauron is evil. Though some characters switch sides (most notably Saruman), it’s mostly obvious who you should root for and against. A Song of Ice and Fire is far less clear. The series was more or less written in response to LOTR, and one can see how: The characters in this series are morally dynamic, all of them ending up somewhere in the middle.

I’ve heard a lot of readers suggest George R.R. Martin’s approach is the better one. ASOIAF is more realistic, making Tolkien’s LOTR simplistic by comparison.

Yes, I agree. Lord of the Rings’s morals are simplistic. But I don’t think simplistic morals make for a worse story. Quite the opposite, actually.

Listen, I love both of these series. I ranked them in the top two of my fantasy power rankings. But I think there’s something to be said for Tolkien’s clearly-defined good and evil.

First of all, fiction is often about wish fulfillment. One of the most satisfying elements of a story is seeing an event reconcile itself within a truncated timeframe. Oftentimes, these are huge problems which realistically can’t be solved, at least not in the way presented. For example: a character reconciles the death of a loved one. Though this process would likely take years, fiction allows us to view this process within a few hundred pages. Wish granted.

Let’s bring this conversation back to Lord of the Rings. The wish fulfilled by the end of the novel is that all evil is vanquished. The One Ring melts into the lava, and boom. World saved. That’s a wish everyone can get behind.

Of course, we’ll likely never see a reality without evil. But fiction need not reflect the possible. Rather, it’s satisfying because it shows the impossible coming to life.

While I love A Song of Ice and Fire, it’s all too often a reminder of the world’s nastiness. If that’s what you’re into, I can see why you love it. I love it, too. But since the world is already a place filled with atrocities and death and violence, sometimes it’s nice to get away from all that in a book, rather than be reminded of it.

Sometimes the very best fiction is transportive rather than reflective. When we step into Middle-Earth, we can’t help but feel that we are elsewhere. We’re in a world where there are good people who fight for justice, where the seemingly insignificant become heroes. We get a little bit of that in Westeros, but mostly we get Red Weddings. Listen, I’m getting married soon. I don’t want to read about Red Weddings right now.

So yes, The Lord of the Rings is kind of simplistic. But sometimes, that’s what we need most.

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Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his fiancee and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. To stay current with Kyle’s work, subscribe to his email newsletter. He promises not to spam you.

Why You Should Be Reading Flash Fiction

Just like the name implies, flash fiction is short enough to read in an instant. But if you’re not reading it, here’s why you should be.

Opinions vary on how long flash fiction should be. Some markets say 300 words max, some say 500, others say 1,000. Whatever the case may be, flash fiction has to be really short—which is not to say incomplete. Rather, many flash pieces still have the elements of traditional literature (character, plot, conflict, setting), only they’re condensed. Think of them like shorter short stories.

The form has existed for quite a while, though it wasn’t known as “flash fiction” until 1992, when James Thomas, Denise Thomas, and Tom Hazuka published their anthology Flash Fiction: 72 Very Short Stories. Despite the its relative mainstream obscurity, many high-profile authors have written flash fiction, including Kurt Vonnegut, Ray Bradbury, Joyce Carol Oats, Ernest Hemingway, and H.P. Lovecraft.

In many ways, flash fiction bears a strong resemblance to poetry. Some of my favorite flash pieces create a mood or feeling instead of focusing on narrative, just as some poems do. Others feature complete stories with beginnings, middles, and ends. It’s a flexible form.

Thanks to the internet, flash fiction’s popularity has only grown. There are numerous online magazines devoted solely to flash fiction, and quite a few popular markets that publish flash from time to time. Just to name a few: Apex Magazine, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Fantasy & Science Fiction, Flash Fiction Online, and NANO Fiction.

If you’d like to challenge yourself as a writer, flash is a great way to do it. It might sound easy to write 500 words, but when you sit down and think about all the components of a good story, it can be difficult to cram everything in.

Furthermore, with such limited space to work with, your language must be razor sharp. In general, readers are far more forgiving of bland language in long-form narratives. It’s easy to skip a poorly-written section of a novel. But when a piece only lasts about a page or two, that poor writing sticks out like a fly in your drink.

Flash fiction is a unique form which will, in my opinion, only grow in popularity in the future. Word counts are shrinking, attention spans are decreasing, and concision is becoming more and more essential. Try some flash fiction and see if you agree!

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Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his fiancee and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. To stay current with Kyle’s work, subscribe to his email newsletter. He promises not to spam you.

5 Best Fantasy Book Series

I love fantasy books. I read them, I write them, and on days like today, I blog about them. I think the title of this post says all it needs to, so let’s get into it.

5. The First Law by Joe Abercrombie

Image from Wikipedia

Of all the series on this list, The First Law might be the one you’re least familiar with. A brief synopsis: Logen Ninefingers, a barbarian of the frozen North, teams up with cheery torturer Sand dan Glokta and arrogant nobleman Jazal dan Luthar to serve the great wizard Bayaz. Thing is, Bayaz might not be exactly what any of them are expecting.

This series intentionally subverts about as many common fantasy tropes as possible. Abercrombie especially enjoys drawing murky lines between the good guys and the bad. What results is a series populated with oodles of complex, compelling characters.

Also, this series is actually pretty darn funny (in a Fargo sort of way). For example, in Glokta’s first chapter, he’s constantly interrupted by various parties while trying to torture a dude. He’s even scolded by the head of his department for recklessness, which might remind folks of classic bureaucratic nonsense that accompanies many jobs. This dark humor is a refreshing addition to a genre that can at times take itself too seriously.

4. Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling

Image from Book Haven

There’s a reason everyone loves this series, and it’s not just because of Alan Rickman. Harry Potter has an astounding cast of interesting characters, sharp plotting, and a satisfying series arc.

One of the series’s greatest strengths is its academic setting. Since many readers are currently or have been enrolled in school themselves, it’s easy to relate to Harry. Sure, maybe you haven’t competed in a life-threatening Triwizard Tournament. But you’ve likely gotten pretty stressed about an upcoming test (even if it wasn’t to become an Auror).

3. The Dark Tower by Stephen King

Image from Amazon

Some might debate whether or not The Dark Tower is fantasy, but this is my list and you can’t stop me.

(Full disclosure: I haven’t actually finished this series; I’m currently on book four. But see above note about this being my list and all.)

Set in a desolate desert landscape, The Dark Tower chronicles the adventures of Roland Deschain, the last living gunslinger from an extinct line. He’s the archetypical man with no name who wanders the land in search of the Dark Tower, the point at which all worlds converge.

This multi-world theme is the coolest aspect of the series. From page one, you’ll notice  many elements of Roland’s world correspond with our own. For example, a saloon piano player plays a song you might know: “Let It Be.” And yet in Roland’s world, it’s just a folk standard—no one’s ever heard of The Beatles.

Another thing: alternate realities. When a particular character dies (no spoilers) the series timeline splits. This creates a paradox in which two realities exist simultaneously. Which kind of drives people nuts. So cool.

For fans of Stephen King, there’s even more to love. That’s because this series is packed with easter eggs from all his other novels. You’ll notice little references to many of his other famous novels, including ‘Salem’s Lot, The Shining, and It.

2. A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin

Image from winteriscoming.net

Expecting this at number one? Listen, this ranking thing is tough. Don’t be too hard on me!

I’m sure you’ve seen HBO’s wildly popular adaptation, but I’ll give you a synopsis anyway: The kingdom of Westeros is in turmoil. Royal families all vie for control of the Iron Throne. Lots of sex and bad language.

This series is sick. Martin writes some of the all-time most memorable characters in fantasy, and dare I say, even literature itself. The plot is entirely character driven, and each event is propelled forth with excitement and intrigue. Plus, anyone can die at any moment, which gives the series a very real sense of menace.

Martin’s series has redefined modern fantasy. He’s been hugely successful at eschewing the clear morals and idyllic landscapes of The Lord of the Rings in favor of grittiness and brutality. It can be exceedingly grim at times, but it also leads to some really compelling reading.

It’s amazing how Martin seeds events in early volumes which don’t come to fruition until two or even three volumes later. There are literally entire message boards composed of fan theories about what’s happening and what’s going to happen. Amazing stuff. And people wonder why it takes him so long to write these things.

1. The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien

Image from Adazing

Yup, it’s still the GOAT. The Lord of the Rings is the foundational text of modern epic fantasy literature.

As with these other series, The Lord of the Rings features a huge cast of endearing characters. Though they’re not as diverse or distinct as those in say, A Song of Ice and Fire, Tolkien’s creations still stand the test of time. Each has interesting dramatic conflict and each plays an important role in the story. Plus, I’d argue that some of Tolkien’s greatest characters, such as Gandalf, Gollum, and Samwise Gamgee, have entered into literature’s all time greatest.

The setting is also magnificent. Middle-Earth is perhaps one of the most well-realized worlds ever put onto paper. Each structure has history; every location has a story; every other page has a song. Okay, I might be exaggerating with that last one, but still. Whether or not you love the pages and pages of wandering through the setting, it’s difficult to deny the depth of imagination here.

And how about the languages? Countless post-Tolkien fantasy authors have created alternate languages, yet it’s obvious that theirs have little basis in linguistics. Remember, Tolkien himself was a professor of language. In fact, some have speculated that he wrote LOTR more or less as an excuse to create his own languages. Therefore, the words in his works have real depth. There’s a functioning system behind these names—not just someone making up words that sound exotic.

No, The Lord of the Rings is not a perfect series. There’s a glaring shortage of female characters. The treatment of ethnicity and race can be troubling at times. We’re not talking about H.P. Lovecraft here, though I do feel that some elements of the book have not aged well into our modern world.

No, it isn’t perfect. But I still believe this trilogy is the foundational text for epic fantasy literature. There’s tons to enjoy and tons to love.

Okay, that’s my list. What do you think? What did I get wrong? What did I forget? What would you leave off entirely? Usually I hate ending blog posts with a call to comment, but really. Comment on this one. I want to hear from you!

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Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his fiancee and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. To stay current with Kyle’s work, subscribe to his email newsletter. He promises not to spam you.

My Favorite Books of 2017

With 2017 in the rear-view and 2018 on the horizon, I figure now’s as good a time as any to share with you my favorite books I read this past year. Hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

Consider the Lobster by David Foster Wallace

From Amazon

David Foster Wallace was an excellent writer and a really brilliant guy. Though his life was cut tragically short, we’re fortunate enough to still have his writing. If you’d like to get acquainted with that writing, consider Consider the Lobster.

This collection includes essays and articles on a variety of subjects, including the Maine Lobster Festival, crappy sports biographies, pornography, and why John Updike was a bonafide narcissist. Plus, Wallace writes about 40 pages on English language style guides, which is itself an impressive feat.

The Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut

From Amazon

This book is almost sixty years old, so I’m not exactly telling anyone anything new by saying that it’s good. But The Sirens of Titan represents Vonnegut at the top of his game, as far as I’m concerned. He blends social commentary, religion, war, and politics all into one, with his trademark humor and wit to match. My favorite line from this book: “Theology: Someone created the universe for some reason.”

The Drawing of the Three by Stephen King

From Amazon

I don’t read a lot of series these days, but I’ll make an exception for The Dark Tower. As the second entry in the series, this is a really beautiful continuation of an outstanding start. The originality and sheer weirdness of the book are excellent, as are the plot and characters. Though it’s a somewhat lengthy book at 400 pages, it goes fast.

Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood

From Amazon

Prior to this novel, the only other Margaret Atwood I’d read was Negotiating with the Dead. I didn’t particularly care for that one, so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from Oryx and Crake. I loved it.

This is a book about a guy named Snowman, who lives in a withered version of the world without many humans or resources. The narrative shifts back and forth between Snowman’s present and past, showing how he and the world became what they are now.

A word of warning: once you read this book and find out what “ChickieNobs” are, you’re unlikely to ever eat at KFC again.

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

From Amazon

Another book about a post-civilization future, though it’s more likely you’ve heard of this one before. Station Eleven has gotten a lot of national attention, and for good reason.

After disease tears through the human population, an acting troupe travels the world performing Shakespeare’s plays. That’s just the main plot, though. In a wider sense, this book is about legacy, religion, art, and survival.

The author, Emily St. John Mandel, does some fancy footwork with the narrative by flipping back and forth in time. While it takes a while to get used to, I loved this style because one sees how the characters connect, how certain artifacts got into the hands of others, and more. Very neat story.

If you’re looking for books to read in the new year, I recommend these. Have a wonderful 2018!

Why the Divide Between Speculative Fiction and Literature?

Literature | ˈlit(ə)rəCHər | noun | Written works, especially those considered of superior or lasting artistic merit. – New Oxford American Dictionary

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According to a certain stuffy pocket of the literary community, science fiction, fantasy, and horror, collectively known as speculative fiction, don’t qualify as literature. Decent stories? Maybe. Cool ideas? Sure. But in the eyes of this snobbish literary elite, speculative fiction just doesn’t measure up to stuff like The Grapes of Wrath and Moby Dick. 

Would you ever read Moby Dick willingly? Yeah, neither would I.

Take the 2003 National Book Awards as an example. That year’s winner was none other than Stephen King, who of course mainly writes horror. The literary elite wasted no time in attacking him, no doubt because he’s just a lowly genre writer. Here’s a quite from critic Harold Bloom.

“The decision to give the National Book Foundation’s annual award for ‘distinguished contribution’ to Stephen King is extraordinary, another low in the shocking process of dumbing down our cultural life. I’ve described King in the past as a writer of penny dreadfuls, but perhaps even that is too kind. He shares nothing with Edgar Allan Poe. What he is is an immensely inadequate writer on a sentence-by-sentence, paragraph-by-paragraph, book-by-book basis.”

You forgot chapter-by-chapter, Harry, but whatever. I disagree with you.

In an episode of my favorite podcast, The Geek’s Guide to the Galaxy, host David Barr Kirtley led a panel on this very debate. Recorded to promote Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy 2015, edited by John Joseph Adams and Joe Hill, the panel featured such influential SF figures as Adams, Hill, Carmen Maria Machado, Seanan McGuire, and Jess Row.

It’s interesting; Adams and Hill have starkly different opinions on the purpose of the volume. On the one hand, John Joseph Adams thinks of Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy as a vehicle for speculative fiction to prove its worth to the literary mainstream. In his own words:

“I and other science fiction fans believe that the best science fiction and fantasy is on par with or better than any other genre. My goal with The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy was to prove that.”

Joe Hill, however, argues that speculative fiction has already merged with literature, and that it did so a long time ago.

“The instruments of science fiction and fantasy—the tools in that genre toolbox—have been out there in the literary world and being explored for at least a decade now, in work by people like Jonathan Lethem, Michael Chabon, Margaret Atwood, and Cormac McCarthy. Science fiction and fantasy is part of the literary mainstream, and has been for a while now.”

At first glance, Hill’s argument resonated more with me. There are so many novels out there—The Road, Fahrenheit 451, Cloud Atlas, and 1984, just to name a few—that are generally considered literary, non-genre works, yet are so clearly speculative fiction that it’s difficult to argue otherwise.

The more I’ve thought about this debate, the more I’ve started to like a decidedly different answer.

Why doesn’t the literary mainstream accept speculative fiction?

Why does it matter?

Let’s refer back to our definition of literature for a second. In the grand scheme of things, does The Lord of the Rings have “superior or lasting merit”? I’d say so. Since the trilogy’s publication in 1954, it’s been an enduring classic for generation upon generation. It’s been translated into 38 different languages (not sure if Tengwar counts there). Furthermore, it’s a story about enduring human ideas: friendship, tyranny, power, greed, love.

Does The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy have lasting merit? Does Dracula? Does Slaughterhouse Five? 

If you’ve ever read any of those books, you already know the answer.

Truth is, we don’t need to speak up for speculative fiction. Speculative fiction speaks for itself.

 

 

Are you a fan of speculative fiction? Me too. Check out some of my speculative work here.

Vonnegut, King, Rushdie, and the Art of the Opening Line

Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five, widely considered a literary classic, starts with a simple sentence:

“All this happened, more or less.”

Isn’t that an amazing first line?

Now we’re not all Kurt Vonnegut (okay, none of us are), but we can still learn from the guy.

Why is this line so good? It sets the tone: satirical, somewhat detached, and spare. Thousand-page tomes are all well and good, but concise and precise literature is oftentimes even better.

Of course, there are many ways to start a story. Stephen King’s opening lines, for instance, often display a distinct style. Here’s the first sentence of King’s short story “The Monkey”:

“When Hal Shelburn saw it, when his son Dennis pulled it out of a mouldering Ralston-Purina carton that had been pushed far back under one attic eave, such a feeling of horror and dismay rose in him that for one moment he thought he would scream.”

King takes a slightly different approach than Vonnegut, though I think it’s no less effective. The first sentence of Slaughterhouse Five serves to set the tone for the rest of the novel. King, on the other hand, often starts with a character, sometimes several, and a situation. In our example, we’ve got Hal Shelburn, a father, and his son, Dennis. Dennis just pulled something awfully creepy out of a corner of the attic. What is this thing? Why is it so scary? The only way to find out is to read on. And that’s what makes it so effective.

For a third example, let’s turn to the great Salman Rushdie. His controversial 1988 novel The Satanic Verses begins thusly:

“‘To be born again,’ sang Gibreel Farishta tumbling from the heavens, ‘first you have to die.'”

This sentence is sick.

There’s a lot going on here. We have an element of fantasy introduced: the process of resurrection. We have a main character who is perhaps offering wisdom to another character. We also have the exciting image of a man “tumbling from the heavens.” How did he get there? Who is he singing to? Why the heck would a guy who’s falling from the sky be singing? There’s only one way to find out…

The best first sentences grab our interest, make us wonder, and invite us into the story. They might address tone or character or action or any number of other story elements, but, it seems to me, they all do one thing: demand us to read the rest.

Unusual Narrative Styles in Fiction

Mark Twain once said, “I like a good story well told.”

We’re with you there, Mark. Whether that story comes in the form of a book, a news article, or over a drink with a friend after work, stories are pretty much universal.

It’s the “well told” part of this statement that interests me most, though. What exactly does that mean? Especially in fiction, is there one way to tell a story well?

Linear, cause-and-effect narratives are fine. Third-person omniscient narration is cool. And the Hero’s Journey works. But when you find a story told in a weird, out-there sort of way, it can really make things feel fresh.

What am I talking about here? I’m talking about present tense. I’m talking about all-dialogue. I’m talking about non-linear narratives. Let me give you a few examples.

I just got finished reading The Shining Girls by Lauren Beukes. It’s about a woman who survives a brutal attack by a time-traveling serial killer, and then devotes the rest of her life to stopping him. Not one for the kiddies.

It’s not the typical cut and dry, one-scene-into-the-next thriller. First thing: it’s written in the present tense, which is somewhat atypical for genre fiction. Present tense works perfectly with this story, though, because it gives everything a sense of immediacy. It’s as if the events of the novel are unfolding before us in real time, sort of like news story (she was a freelance reporter, by the way).

Furthermore, present tense works best with quick sentences and short chapters, which we see a lot of in The Shining Girls. Beukes writes her chapters in jabs, like hits to the mouth. We zoom in on one character, end on a resounding note, then move on to the next. Certainly an economical approach, here.

Could Beukes achieve the same effect using traditional narrative styles? Maybe, but I don’t think it would’ve been quite as effective. There’s no distance to the events with present tense—it’s happening instead of having already happened.

Another weird narrative comes in David Eggers’s Your Fathers, Where Are They? And the Prophets, Do They Live Forever? The plot: an unremarkable man kidnaps an astronaut in order to ask said astronaut all sorts of existential questions.

Okay, that probably already sounds pretty weird. But it gets weirder.

Eggers’s book is written entirely as dialogue. It’s sort of like a stage play in that sense, only without even so much as stage direction. Like in The Shining Girls, this makes things move very, very quickly. Though it’s a roughly 200-page book (which isn’t super long to begin with), it reads as though it’s half that length.

The best part about this all-dialogue style is the way it puts the characters’ voices right in your ear. After a while, you can imagine distinct accents and inflections for each of them. Furthermore, the dialogue takes on a special weight, because without description to back it up, every line has to do more to move the story along. In addition, the dialogue also needs to perform such mundane actions as orienting the reader in the space, a function usually performed by description.

The last weird narrative style I’d like to discuss is that of Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five. Perhaps the weirdest of the three, Slaughterhouse centers on the life of Billy Pilgrim, a WWII veteran who’s trying to adjust to postwar life. But that can be tough when you bounce around the moment in your life because you’ve “become unstuck in time” (which has to be one of the coolest lines in literature).

Billy jumps from moment to moment in his life, from the war to troubled times at home to an alien planet, all of them decades apart. The narrative cuts between all of these times and settings in an almost unpredictable pattern—definitely not the style of most books.

But the genius here is that we become disoriented, just like Billy. If the story was told in a normal, linear manner, we’d know exactly when we are in time, i.e. the events on page 100 are happening after those on page 50. As written, though, we’re just as unstuck in time as Billy. It’s an effect that really couldn’t be achieved otherwise.

So what makes a good story well told? Like any good question, there’s no single answer. It might be a classic structure, or it might be something a little more unusual. Whatever the structure, it’s not just what happens that makes a story great—it’s the way in which it happens.

Why You Should Read More Short Stories

In the mood to read something a little different? Short stories might be just what you’re looking for.

Okay, you know short stories are shorter than novels. But they aren’t just about brevity. They’re also easily digestible, often unconventional, and uniquely indicative of an author’s strengths. Let’s go deep on this topic.

Short Stories Can Be Finished in One Sitting

If you have limited reading time, committing to a novel could prove difficult. It would be like watching a movie thirty minutes at a time. You might even forget who’s who!

Short stories are often designed to be read in one session. If you’re an infrequent or sporadic reader, this spares you confusion when you sit down to read. Plus, you get a new experience every single time you open your book, e-reader, or computer. (Or whatever the kids read on these days.)

Short Stories Defy Conventions

Short stories are generally weirder than long-form narrative. This is due to a couple factors.

First, techniques that might grow tiresome in a longer narrative become more palatable in smaller doses. Examples include second-person narration, atypical point of views, or present tense. It might be difficult to sustain any one of these techniques for a few hundred pages. But in a short story, they provide a refreshing change of pace.

Second, short stories generally require less commercial appeal than novels. Since the readership for short stories isn’t especially large, writers can afford to be a bit zanier than usual. If you enjoy writers pushing the envelope on what a story can be, you’ll enjoy short stories.

Short Stories Showcase a Writer’s Skill

This opinion is completely unfounded and totally based on my own personal feelings. And yes, there are tons of great writers who’ve never written a short story. But I really do feel that someone who writes good short stories is usually a stronger writer than someone who doesn’t.

When you read an author’s short fiction collection, you’ll discover not one great idea, but many. It’s the difference between a hit single and an entire album; sure, you might be able to strike gold once, then make a living off copies of what’s already worked. But those who can frequently diverge from where they started are often far more interesting.

Parting Thoughts

I do hope I’ve convinced you to read some more short stories. If you’re ready to do so, here are some of my favorites. Check them out!

• “The Dowager of Bees” by China Mieville
• “I Can See Right Through You” by Kelly Link
• “The Great Silence” by Ted Chiang (Note: This is one of the only stories I’ve ever read, short or long, that has ever made me cry.)
• “Black Dog” by Neil Gaiman
• “Good Country People” by Flannery O’Connor
• “Sandkings” by George R.R. Martin
• “Escape from Spiderhead” by George Saunders
• “Walkdog” by Sofia Samatar
• “Unbelievable” by Kyle A. Massa (Yes, this is a shameless plug.)