Another week gone by. I have to admit that this was a fairly productive weekend…not in writing. I got most of my home winterized and brought in my passion flowers and Cannes bulbs. I did also work on transferring my latest short story to the computer. Usually I wait awhile to do this 1. because it is considered my first re-write and 2. because I have stepped away from the story long enough to let my right brain kick it around a bit. I am not sure I like the direction the second draft is going. The first was all about horror, gore and mystery. The second has a tone of sarcasm and humor that I wasn’t expecting and am not sure that I want. I am going to finish with the re-write this week (hopefully tomorrow) and see what I think at that time – either it will go back to the original tone or I will keep it in the direction it was going. Ideally I was hoping to get it done in time to enter it into the short short contest at Writer’s Digest, we will have to see.
In the last couple of weeks, I have been really taken by short stories. I am not only reading them, but I have been thinking a lot about them. I have these novels that I am working on and between chapters I seem to be writing a short story. In my writer’s group there has been a lot of talk about finishing things and the whole thought that we cannot be published unless we finish what we are working on. I agree with this and have been kind of beating myself up about it. The truth is, I do finish things. I enjoy writing short stories. I enjoy the amount of information that can be put into a small piece of work and the thought it can provoke.
I mean look at a story like Shirley Jones’ The Lottery. Who doesn’t remember reading that story in school. I remember reading it in middle school, high school and college. Each time I read it, it haunted me. It’s a short story that affects whomever reads it, or at least it did me. What writer doesn’t want that story (not necessarily The Lottery, but the story that stays with the reader) to be theirs. I know I do.