One thing that’s great about short stories is how quickly they can ruin your life. Maybe you start reading one over your lunch break and, if it’s the right one, before that peanut butter cup you brought for dessert even has a chance to finish its melting shape-shift into some kind of sugary cement, the whole world has been destroyed around you and then rebuilt, and nothing is quite the same again. This happens whether you like it or not. Great stories practice this violent beauty on you in a variety
and Endings found in Short Stories Every story must start somewhere, but not every story has to have a complete ending, or even a clear one. With the development of the short story, the variation between short story endings has gradually increased as time has gone on, like the difference between a final ending in Flannery O’Connor’s “A Good Man is Hard to Find” or John Cheever’s “The Swimmer.” However, the endings of some short stories also depend on the style of how the story is written, like Amy
The Suspense in Short Stories Every story needs suspense if you want to keep readers interested in your writing, and there are many ways you can add it to your story. A few instances of this are using irony to put the reader on the edge of their seat, clues that readers can pick up on and piece together, and imagery to shape images in readers. Three stories that are great examples of this are The Tell-Tale Heart, The Landlady, and The Red Room. The main way Edgar Allan Poe makes suspense in the former
There's been a murder, and I know who did it. Mr. Boddy invited Miss Scarlet, Prof. Plum, Mrs. Peacock, Mr. Green, Col. Mustard, and, well, not me because I was already there. I am Mr. Boddy's maid, Miss White. It all started in Mr. Boddy's mansion. Mr. Boddy was having a dinner party and didn’t know that he invited a murderer. He didn’t know that he invited murderer's. It all started when the guests arrived for the dinner party. "Your place is to die for Mr. Boddy!" exclaimed Scarlet
rolling hills of multicolored garbage. What was new trash was giving birth to fresh rot to replace old rot. The refuse mounds were the breeding center for every known species of insect and rodent, a world where few people ventured to sojourn. In a short while, they trudged through knee-high garbage while following the burly man who didn't notice the refuse. He stopped at a freshly planted mound of trash and assorted debris. It was still vibrant in color and odor. "Here." He pointed to the mound.
Short story: Definition and History. A short story like any other term does not have only one definition, it has many definitions, but all of them are similar in a general idea. According to The World Book Encyclopedia (1994, Vol. 12, L-354), “the short story is a short work of fiction that usually centers around a single incident. Because of its shorter length, the characters and situations are fewer and less complicated than those of a novel.” In the Cambridge Advanced Learner’s Dictionary
Short Stories: Characteristics •Short - Can usually be read in one sitting. •Concise: Information offered in the story is relevant to the tale being told. This is unlike a novel, where the story can diverge from the main plot •Usually tries to leave behind a single impression or effect. Usually, though not always built around one character, place, idea, or act. •Because they are concise, writers depend on the reader bringing personal experiences and prior knowledge to the story. Four Major
“How very unusual, I usually happen to know all of my guests...You are, however, very mysterious, and I do like mysteries,” she purred. Somehow it seemed as if all time had stopped. The background around us began to fade in an unfocused blur of color. The only thing I could sharpen in on now was the woman. Her parted red lips, and her dark liquid eyes that bore into mine. “Have you a name?” she whispered. “Jared. And yours?” “Berona,” she answered. “And what has brought you here, Jared?” she said
Side by side, the women walked, silent, tension stiffening their spines. Joan pressed her free hand against her belly, trying to quell a sharp pang of nausea. Saying goodbye would not be easy. Behind her, Joan heard the whispers of several dozen voices, and those whispers swelled into chatter. She glanced over her shoulder to see many hundreds of people walking behind her, all there to offer support and farewells to the knights. It warmed her heart to see them, for it meant she and her friends were
Back in his room again, he was starting to feel like a little boy who was not allowed of out the house for fear he might hurt himself. The thought that he was kind of being held here returned and it made him even more suspicious. Also he was now starting to notice that everyone kept pushing the idea of him being safe inside. A little disconcerting if not odd. One day he is going to have to get out of here. Why not today? To hell with working for these people. Lincoln was not going to spend the rest