The Australian Word: The Short Story

THE SHORT AND THE SMALL

Some uncharitable observers state that the short story is an inferior form of literature – a ‘mall’ story in fact! – designed for those with the attention span of a sparrow.

Not so; in its most sublime manifestation, the genre stands as high as any prose form. The life of Christ as depicted in the Four Gospels is a series of short stories.

The reality is that a particular literary content-package is more suited to one word-length or another; from the one-line aphorism, through to the 3000 word short story – the novella. And right up to the 1000-plus page blockbuster. Only in terms of sheer effort is the novel necessarily a superior literary form to the short story.

Literature should never be judged on quantity; if you want your reading by the kilogram – take the phonebook to bed!

The first thing we meet in the short story is the title; oh how important are titles! Millions of excellent stories have remained unread because the world-be reader could not get past an insipid, tasteless, inapt, inept or just plain mundane title. But how inviting is a good heading like … um, Vance Palmer’s excellent series of short stories – Sea and Spinifex. The wind-swept nature images and sibilant alliteration are evocative, setting the tone even before the first line is read.

The less-intimidating short story form is often a starting point for beginning authors, many of whom have time, energy and/or inspirational restraints. A regimen of say 1000 words a day can lead to a collection of short stories within a manageable time frame.

There is a current truism around the literature traps, that it has never been easier to publish a book – but never harder to sell one! Though in Australia the selling climate is quite good – if you are! The short story writer has access to a surfeit of quality magazines, newspapers and lesser-known literary journals – like Meanjin, Westerly and Voices.

A lot of words, yes? It would seem that Australians don’t just lie around on the beach all day – or if they do, they read at the same time! This wide acceptance of literature in our word-young country is built upon two sturdy foundation stones. The first is the old Bulletin magazine under the stewardship of J.F. Archibald and A.G. Stephens. This gave many inspired but anonymous writers their nervous beginnings in print. Writers who are today as legendary as the images they created in the national psyche; writers like Banjo Paterson, Henry Lawson and Dame Mary Gilmore – all of whom were masters of the short story form, among others.

The second ‘stone’ was the book publisher, Angus and Robertson. Under its visionary auspices, word wrights of every complexion found their way into well-bound books, large and small – some found their way out again just as quickly. A few went on to national and even international fame – Patrick White for instance. Our very own Nobel Prize winner for Literature seems an unlikely member of Australia’s short story literati, but his Cockatoo collection is of world renown.

Another unlikely literary phenomenon is the plethora of early writers who found their creative stride in a rough and rustic geographic axis running from Melbourne to Adelaide – as the physical light increases northward, the creative one seems to dim …? Apart from the South’s notoriety in giving the world the Stump jump Plough, it produced such sublime short story word-weavers as Joseph Furphy of ‘Such is Life’ fame; ‘Henry’ Handel Richardson (‘Mum, Henry’s a girl!’); and Katherine Susanna Prichard.

But how to go about writing a short story? Experienced authors have their own sworn-by methods of course – all different! But the simplistic idea of just banging away on a typewriter to see what happens would almost assuredly not be one of them.

There is a directional factor in good writing – from above, down. This reality is expressed in the vernacular in various ways ‘The idea just came down to me!’ Even Moses, a successful short story writer in his own right (The perennial best-seller Thou Shalt Not!) had to go up a mountain to receive his inspiration. For a work to contain spiritual content, this psychic pilgrimage is mandatory.

A beginner could do worse that follow the ‘Seven Processes of Short Story Writing’.

1. We raise our creative antennae to find the initial idea – the overall concept of the story. AS Louis Esson once said (Louis who? Louis Esson, an Australian short play writer, that’s who!) ‘Better bread and cheese and an idea, than fortune and champagne and no idea.’
2. The next step is a kind of meditation on the many elements that will come together to flesh out this skeleton of an idea. Jot down everything relevant (and sometimes irrelevant, just in case) you know about the period, place, and people – this ‘Three P’ factor forms the basis of every tale. The first flow of knowledge comes from within, from worldly experience – stamping the idea with the author’s individuality.
3. Research – not from without; reference books and the like fill in the gaps – what kind of clothes did they wear in those day? (if it’s a period piece) – what are the details of Australian military honors?
4. By hand, write a rough draft of the story – concentrate on flow and continuity, not punctuation and spelling. The hand-written original assures yet again maximum impress of the individual – apart from its advantages in re-arranging, adding and deletion – cut and paste can be fun!
5. Type the finished manuscript; use a machine with word-processor facility. Observe the publishing conventions; like double line-spacing; 2-inch margin on the left; copyright, date, name; page numbering (top right corner). Have the M.S. sub-edited by someone with word skills.

This throws light on the inevitable blind sports everyone has in relation to their perception of the form of the written word, helping correct clangors like tautology, wrong spelling, clichés and plagiarism. It’s had when an editor ruthlessly extracts, like a rotten tooth, tired old phrasing which just happens to be the author’s favorite! (Is ‘rotten tooth’ a cliché!?)

6. Submit M.S. to a publisher; select one who prints similar material. Make a publishing file so that as soon as the (almost certain) reject sip arrives, the piece can be shunted off to someone else. Include S.A.E. and a brief covering letter.
7. When all else fails – self-publish! There might only be 50 copies of the ‘Short Stories of a Lifetime’, but at least they’re in print, and are probably going to be read – if even only by the author’s mother!

Reading, and hence feedback, is important; by reading between the verbal lines of friends’ and family’s laudatory comments, self-education can proceed apace! Some use the pejorative ‘vanity publishing’ to describe self-publishing, but in essence putting one’s own words into the world, from concept right through to marketing, is no different from making pottery and selling it. So the best of luck on your ‘wheel of words’; every writer began small – even short story writers!

And to put my money where my word-processor is, I have included a short story over the page – Passion Up A Paw Paw Tree; but here’s a very short story – and it just happens to be true.

ALL IN A DAY’S WORK

One of the more pleasurable tasks for a schoolteacher is to take the children out on excursion. It was late afternoon when I stopped the bus at a park to give my class of 10-year-olds a toilet break.

The park adjoined a hotel which was packed with after-word drinkers. Perhaps it was the noise of the public bar which caught the attention of one of my little girls, who stood staring in through the open window. Her round-eyed innocence seemed to annoy one of the drinkers who slammed down the old wooden-frame window – that was the window the men stood their beer on! Glasses tumbled onto surprised heads; an amber shower soaked shirt and singlet alike.

I hurried the children back onto the bus – we’d stayed too long there anyway. Besides, the locals didn’t seem all that friendly!