I’ve been meeting a lot of people who wonder, “How is a short story written, what is involved?” I figured I’d break it down into simple steps. They don’t have to be followed exactly, but, they’ll probably help you on your quest.
- Get an idea.
- Since it’s ready taken, don’t worry that it’s already taken.
- Masturbate to a photo of Flannery O’Connor.
- Have a cup of coffee.
- Start your story briskly!
- Briskly throw it away after 5 minutes.
- It’s the law.
- Restart.
- Write about life.
- Or death.
- Don’t let anyone else know that, make them think the plot is about as simple and carefree as having sex in a helicopter.
- The first sentence of your story should only take you about seven months.
- If you think it’s done any sooner than that, keep crumpling it up and throwing it in your bird cage.
- Have a bird and a bird cage.
- Maybe a cockatiel just cause that’s funny to say cockatiel.
- Write a rough draft of your idea.
- Keep it loose.
- Put in some of the key building blocks of life and humanity.
- Such as love.
- Betrayal.
- Trust.
- Typos.
- Grammatical errors.
- Explosions.
- The Pacific Ocean.
- You love the ocean but don’t get to go as often as you’d like.
- In the short story mention a bunch of other cool shit.
- You have a lot of options.
- Don’t mention anything lame for more than 3/4 of a sentence.
- Have you been writing on a yellow legal pad with a blue ball point pen? Go back to number 6.
- Ask everybody on the street for clues about who Alice Monroe is.
- Did they tell you? Perfect. Add some of her wisdom.
- Find out from the deli girl slicing your ham who Denis Johnson is.
- Insist on “thin sliced ham.”
- Back to the story. Add tension.
- Add more tension.
- Make sure there’s a conflict.
- Make sure there’s a resolution.
- Make sure your character undergoes some monumentous forced bullshit change.
- Does it feel forced?
- not working.
- Force harder.
- Add some love triangles.
- Also add an artistic scene of the narrator glancing out at the Pacific Ocean like the end of Barton fink.
- Was that a short story?
- I dunno.
- Maybe write Barton Fink as a short.
- Or whatever you want.
- It’s your story.
- You call out of your job for a week.
- You finish the first draft of your short story!
- Celebrate!
- Go out for a $250 steak dinner.
- Get a strawberry slushy from 7-11, add 13 shots of mescal.
- Get drunk in a random limo.
- Tell the limo driver to take you to Raymond Carver’s house.
- “Who’s that?”
- “Look her up motherfucker.”
- “Get out of my limo, you look like you’re gonna choke on your own vomit.”
- At home you hit your head on the mirror, slipping in the bathroom.
- Nasty.
- Get some stitches.
- “What happened to your head?” someone asks.
- “Art” you say. Not meaning it. You just think it’s funny to say.
- Submit your first draft to McSweeny’s!
- Get rejected by the mailman as you hand him/her the envelope
- Send it also to Esquire
- The Paris Review.
- Your mom.
- Get rejections from all the magazines in six months.
- Your mom whenever Thanksgiving is.
- Rewrite your story.
- Type it this time.
- I thought you had enough common sense to type your draft.
- you sent a handwritten story in an envelope without even an SASE? OMG?!
- It goes like this:
- Idea
- Yellow legal pad
- blue ball point pen
- Type it up
- Double space it
- 12 point times new roman
- Put your email and name on the top of each page.
- Don’t be a smug asshole in your bio.
- Be nice.
- Thank the editor for their time.
- That’s it.
- SASE if sending through snail mail.
- who cares if it’s digital.
- whew, alright, pressing on …
- Ok, you need critiques on your story
- It’s obvious
- Have your barber look it over
- “Make your protagonist a barber” he’ll say
- Don’t do it
- Spell check your work again
- It’s ‘your’ not ‘you’re’
- Or ‘it’s’ not ‘its’
- A bunch of other shit
- Delete all the Martians
- All the celebrity psychics
- All the werewolf detectives
- Write about regular people
- Give them regular names
- Or no names
- Make their lives interesting (kinda)
- But please don’t make them spies
- Or cops
- Or Jean Claude Van Dame
- Rewrite the first sentence over and over and over again until blood comes out of your eyes
- Then delete the entire story
- Say “Fuck why did I delete that?”
- Take your computer to a tech geek. Have the file rescued from wherever fucked up accidentally deleted files go.
- Take the tech geek on a romantic weekend getaway to a secluded bed and breakfast in upstate NY
- Screw loudly
- Get complaints from the old couple that run it
- Print them out your story on the printer by the chess board next to the fireplace
- “Lose the barber. Who wants to read about a barber?” the old lady says.
- “Make him a werewolf spy,” the old man suggests.
- Submit the second draft to university presses.
- Get rejected.
- Marry the tech geek on the beach.
- You both love the beach.
- Submit draft 3 to online websites like Pank and the Nervous Breakdown.
- Get rejected.
- Submit draft 6 or better to small press online sites.
- Get accepted!
- Say, “fuck them! One more draft”
- Resend to the New Yorker.
- Never hear back.
- Forget your story for a decade.
- Start a family with the tech geek.
- Get a condo.
- Take the cockatiel with you.
- Gain 24 pounds.
- Figure out how to make jello no bake cherry cheese cake.
- “Easy as shit.”
- Have two kids.
- Twins.
- Whatever non identical is called.
- Boys
- Kyle and Wiley
- Start growing your own weed in a secret room behind your bookcase
- Also, take your family on a vacation to see colonial Williamsburg in Virginia
- They’ll hate it
- You’ll hate it
- That kinda stuff is good for your writing. Hate.
- Also: crash your car into a telephone pole while fucked up on over the counter prescription medication that you crushed up and snorted
- It doesn’t matter
- It was a Mazda miata
- That’s also good for your writing
- Tell your kids “SHUT THE FUCK UP! I’m trying to write”
- Draft 8
- Draft 9
- Suffer at work
- Get the silent treatment at home
- Decide to enter into rehab for the prescription drugs you snort
- Adderal mostly
- This saves your marriage
- Your kids make the highschool soccer team
- Whatever
- Soccer sucks
- Take your first writings class!
- After the first class take the writing teacher out to the bar
- ask, “So how did you get published in the New Yorker?”
- Be surprised when the teacher says, “sheesh, I can’t even get a short story published in the local newspaper.”
- Send your story to the local newspaper
- It’s accepted!
- Reject them too.
- Laugh at the editor on the phone.
- “Sorry, bub” you say. “Bigger and better things, bub.”
- Do some research
- Get someone to hit you with rocks so you finally understand Shirley Jackson’s “the lottery”
- Workshop your story all that year at one of your six writer’s groups
- Shut up and Write!
- Write Prison!
- Write N’ Munch
- Scribble Fun
- The Leather Elbow Pad
- MFA MOTHERFUCKER’S ANONYMOUS
- they’re all helpful
- Tighten up your troublesome short story with all that wonderful FREE advice from all those other aspiring writers.
- Get a twitter account.
- Follow people who hash tag #ThePenIsMightierThanGettingFucked
- Follow Raymond Carver.
- Finally read one of his stories.
- Tell me if it’s any good.
- Make your story sadder.
- Put in cancer.
- A car crashing into a train.
- Maybe some assault of some kind. People love that.
- Give everybody a pet dog with a wet nose.
- Set the story in Pittsburg.
- In a steel mill.
- The day it’s set to close.
- Give every character a ton of back story.
- Write it in third person present tense.
- Oh shit your story is 63,000 words.
- Lean what flash fiction is.
- Learn Hemingway’s 6 word story about the fucking baby shoes.
- Learn who Hemingway is.
- Cut your story by 61,000 words.
- Ditch the steel mill.
- Let your cockatiel go free.
- It dies in the snow.
- “Stupid” your computer geek spouse says.
- Your kids laugh.
- You think that’s a bad sign.
- Maybe they all need lithium.
- You don’t want any.
- You think psych drugs will take away your creativity.
- after work one day you stop in a your local seedy dive bar where bands and poets play/read and you are surprised to see a zine stuffed in the toilet.
- Fish it out.
- Rinse it off.
- what the hell, you send them your story.
- They publish your story!
- You are 55 years old, you feel accomplished.
- “I’m a published author” you scream from your home at the top of Mt. Everest which you climb up and down all the time to do all your goddamned errands and crap.
- That’s irony.
- Learn that.
- Put it in your new shit.
- Now, write a zillion more stories.
- About what?
- Anything but writing.
- Unless you don’t give a fuck.
- Just have fun.
- Go to the beach.
- Bring sandwiches.
- And an umbrella.
- And a blanket big enough for all of you
- Watch the blue sky.
- Jump in the green ocean.
- Feel good while you can.
- say, “I think this sandwich just gave me an idea for a story …”
- “About what?”
- “You’ll see. When they publish it.”
- “Who?”
- “Well, I’m not sure yet.”
- “There’s sand in my sandwich.”
- “Isn’t that exactly what life is?”
- The sun goes behind a cloud and a chill comes off the ocean.
- You lay down next to your love.
- You both cover up for a little with the big beach towel.
- That’s your favorite part.