You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘short story’ tag.

I told my writing buddy about the new anthology launch – at the Sun pub in Drury Lane, near Covent Garden – London, you know – on Saturday 16th December (4.30-7.30pm) – why not come along and see what’s on offer?

I said, they’ve described my writing as ‘modern noir’, whadcha think of that? She said, it sounds like the name of a paint. I’ll wear tweed, and a black raincoat, and brown leather shoes (which my father warned me against when I was quite young).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seems to me it sounds more like the name of a dark chocolate, but hey, as long as you enjoy watching it dry!

Advertisements

So the BBC had their man interview Tom Hanks yesterday, about his new collection of Short Stories (power to the man!)…but asked him how he felt about becoming ‘ a novelist’. Shades of Muhammed Ali – what’s my name? – but no blows rained sadly.

Today they topped it off with a decent short story on Radio 4 ….and you’ve guessed it….. ‘by the novelist…’

When will these people learn?

 

 

 

 

 

Here’s a date for those of you in or near Carlisle, England: At Darren Harper’s Phil and Lit Society, Room 8, Fisher Street Galleries, Friday, 3rd November 7.00pm-8.30  English Short Stories between the Wars… a talk by Me (with help from BHD), looking at A.E.Coppard, H.E.Bates, V.S.Pritchett and others. (£4.50 members, £6 non-members). Book through website https://www.darrenharper.net/

Darren Harper, founder of Carlisle (England)’s new Phil & Lit society, invite BHDandMe to talk to him about short stories. Here’s the first instalment of what got asked, and what got answered. 

 

 

 

Some of the ideas touched on in the interview are examined in The Poetic Impulse, by Mike Smith.

Here’s early warning of a new Showcase title due out soon, published by Inktears, including a fistful of stories from BHD:  Click on the cover to go to their preview page and sign up for a copy on publication, or click here

Short stories occupy time and place. These can be locations as precise as a specific street corner on the stroke of noon on a particular, or as vague as there and then, but they are the ‘there and when’ of how stories happen. We talk of stories ‘taking place’, and often that place is crucial to the story being able to ‘take place’ at all. The timing too can be critical in how a story unfolds. There’s a many a story set before the days of mobile phones which would be simply unbelievable in an age of instant communications without elaborate, and perhaps unconvincing plot devices – ‘a funny thing happened to me on the day my mobile battery ran out’.

I’ll be looking at when and where stories come from and might be going to in a workshop for Darren Harper‘s Carlisle Phil and Lit Society, in room 8, Fisher Street Galleries, Carlisle, on Thursday 12th of October, 7.00pm to 9.00pm. Course Fee: £10 Booking: To book a place on the course, or to find out more, please contact Darren at darrenharper.esq@gmail.com

Writing buddy, Marilyn Messenger and I [Ambiguous Encounters, ten short stories by Marilyn Messenger and Brindley Hallam Dennis] will be reading as part of the Borderlines Showcase event at Carlisle Cathedral Fratry on Saturday evening, 7th October. Tickets are free. We have two more pairs of back-to-back stories, written individually but posing, and answering questions of each other. That’s Carlisle, England, by the way, for blog readers beyond these borders!

There was a wicked little device used in the Middle Ages (and later), to cripple cavalry horses.  I think it was called a caltrop. Thrown onto the ground it was so constructed as to fall always sharp side up. A three dimensional piece, you might imagine it as having a triangular base, from which three other triangles rise to that upward pointing sharpie.

The triangle as a metaphor for story – characters at the point, relationships along the lines, is a two dimensional object, but we could add that third dimension to it as well. That would be the narrator. But where is the author? Where is the reader (or listener, if the story is being told)?

Why not come along on Thursday 5th October to Mike Smith’s Facets of Fiction Workshop at Carlisle Library (10.00am-12.00 noon) and join in an exploration of this and other triangular conundrums about how we write short stories, and what we think they might be.  Tickets are available via the link, here.

You see, never to be left out of it…now BHD’s gone and got something else into print….in Issue 4 of the Black Market Re-view which that was a link to, back there <. Thankfully, he’s buried among lots of good writing, from all over the place. So, why not go and take a look?

Also, while we’re here….Did you know BHDandMe are leading a workshop as part of the Borderlines Festival in Carlisle? 10.00am-12.00 noon, Thursday 5th October, at the Library (in the Lanes)? Come along and play around with ideas of how the humble (or even arrogant) triangle can inform the situations we create for our fictional characters in the short story.

There’s a short essay by me just published on the Thresholds International Short Story Forum

Arthur Miller is best known as a playwright. I know his short stories better than I do the plays, and fine stories they are too. But here I found a short story embedded in his autobiography Timebends. It’s an account of an unexpected meeting with a friend of his mother’s, and like a ‘proper’ short story, it has a beginning, a middle and an end.

I wrote about Miller’ short story The Misfits, in the second of my collections of essays on the genre and its writers, Love and Nothing Else, examining the differences between the short story and the screenplay, also written by Miller, that was based upon it.

In Nicolai Gogol’s The Overcoat, sometimes cited as the short story from which all (but especially Russian) short stories flowed, the opening paragraph (in Ronald Wilk’s translation, in Russian Short Stories, Folio Soc.1997) describes with comic irony ‘a certain Department’ of Government, or rather, the way that people might feel about such a department.

Capturing, obliquely, both the time and the place in which the story is located – the time a matter of manners, the place a milieu of particular behaviours – that opening indicates the fundamentally comic intent of the story. The second paragraph goes on to describe Bashmachkin, the hapless protagonist.

The Overcoat was published in 1842.

Some dozen years earlier Prosper Mériméé published the story Mateo Falcone. This too is cited as being one of the beginnings of the short story. Of course, writers like A.E.Coppard trace the form much further back, into the oral tradition, whence it escapes the slur of being a younger brother, or sister, of the novel.

Mateo Falcone begins with a description of the ‘maquis’, the word rendered into italics in the French original, signalling the its exceptionality. The maquis is a type of wilderness, farmed, if that is the word, by Corsican shepherds, who burn off the old top growth each year and plant a crop into the ashes. It is a hard country, in which brigands hide out and a code of honour demands compliance.

As with Gogol’s story, the description of the setting in which the story is located – time and place – sets also the ambience of the telling, and these two stories are quite different in their ambiences. The former is tragic-comic, the futile struggles of an un-empowered man against the system; the latter is tragic-serious, the working out of a lethal formula in the case of a wilful child.

Gogol had worked in institutions and so perhaps had a template upon which to build his imaginary department, but Mériméé had never visited Corsica. In fact, when he did so, many years later, he was surprised and delighted to find that his description of the maquis, taken from books and imagination, was uncannily accurate.

It has been said of W.E.Johns, who wrote the ‘Biggles’ and ‘Gimlet’ books among others, that he had visited few of the many countries in which his stories were set. Yet it was the locations of his stories rather than the plots, particularly in the later Biggles books, that were so interesting, at least to this reader in the early 1960s.

The use of real places, described from imagination and second or third hand report, can be found in Shakespeare, and earlier. In these days of global travel – at least for the top few percent of the world’s rich (and that includes most Europeans) – it’s all too easy to find fault with those imaginary locations, and to find ones that can’t be held up to such scrutiny becomes increasingly difficult. There are still patches on ‘the map’ that might be tagged ‘here be dragons’, but they are fewer, and likely to appear on TV at any moment, seen through the head-cam of some explorer-presenter. Writers have long since been driven to space, outer and inner, to find locations that cannot be questioned.

All such places, along with the real places, and the lucky descriptions, like Mériméé’s, fulfil a function in the storytelling. It is to give the ‘there and then’ of the characters’ ‘here and now’ – to be credible, even when they are not authentic. And it is to provide a base upon which the ambience of the story can be built, the comic, tragic, absurd or grimly realistic feel of the story, to the teller, and to the told.