It started with this article by Jason Sanford, sent to me by Dorothee Lang (Blue Print Review), Who Wears Short Shorts, Micro Stories and MFA Disgust. in StorySouth.
Jason brings up some valid points about the changes in the literary market:
That’s right—being a writer in today’s lovely world of fiction and creative nonfiction is like reliving 70’s TV hell, where that Nair commercial jingle has been conveniently rewritten into “Who writes short shorts?” Poetic vision rarely shows up. After all, how can you express vision in 100 words? As for plot and character development, give those antiquated goods to Goodwill. All that matters with short shorts is a competent writing style and a desire for lots of publication credits.
Now I don’t necessarily agree with the “all that matters” statement, since there are many fine publications with editors that are still looking for story even if its only six words long. But from the writer’s point of view, it’s fairly easy to rack up a bunch of publishing credits with the mountain of new online journals cropping up every month. Nowadays, it’s more common to cross your fingers and hope they don’t get bored with the whole thing and pull the plug and that’s where the time and worry is spent on the part of the writer if your piece has been accepted–with record speed.
While Mr. Sanford goes on to explain what a short piece is capable of doing, he has argument with what is passing for short story:
Instead of demonstrating depth and vision, 99% of the published short shorts are merely sight gags, inside jokes, scene descriptions, or scattered details from some writer’s life. Yet this is exactly what currently passes for quality writing in the world of short shorts. The editors of Brevity, an online magazine for nonfiction short shorts (published on the site of the highly venerated Creative Nonfiction), say as much in their guidelines: “Brevity publishes concise literary nonfiction of 750 words or less focusing on detail and scene over thought and opinion.” Detail and scene over thought and opinion? For the record, detail and scene do not a story make, any more than slapped-together descriptions of your last Disney World vacation make a poem.
I have to agree; I just recently posted on this as a matter of fact. I’ve seen too many such ‘stories’ that I’d consider only a single event out of a story. We are given no depth of background of character nor any hint of what’s ahead for him. It seems that the short story–flash, let’s call it, though I’ve seen longer stories be as inept in creating a narrative–is a case of writers thinking that they too can do it and anything goes. Similar to how free-form verse both added a wealth of creative freedom as well as a helluvalotta crappy poetry.
Sanford goes on to debunk the theory that flash fiction is the result of demand from a society that is in Time Warp #10. Then he tackles the universities that churn out Creative Writing Majors with no sense of ingenuity but who at least don’t make as many mistakes since the short format may inhibit excess description and setting. Sanford sums up (though I would strongly recommend reading the whole article) with this:
The problem with most short shorts is not the genre—it is that they are being written by writers who are not committed to the true exploration of voice that’s at the heart of great literature.
Next I read Ann Pino’s Five Great Reasons for Novelists to Write Flash. And here I agree that just as with poetry teaching metaphor, brevity, and imagery, flash offers the writer the opportunity to exercise the editing and rewriting skills:
Writing flash requires you to be ruthless, aggressively paring anything that doesn’t add value to your story.
Then comes the kicker, touching on the question of online publishing, Eliza Victoria, in Online Publications: Who Benefits? names names. There has always been the question of publication value; some, such as the New Yorker, being considered in the uppermost eschelon with several tiers established by longevity and quality of writing pyramiding beneath them. Now the new question of online versus print tried to establish itself as a standard of valuation but that’s not working as more and more of the creme de la creme have found it necessary to at least partially go online in order to maintain readership.
Eliza points out the obvious:
So: why an online publication? From the viewpoint of a publisher, one factor to consider is that online publishing is cheap. Compared to a print publication, an online publication is easy to set up that it can actually begin – and even remain – a one-man endeavor. For example, the now defunct (and quite brilliant) Lone Star Stories listed only one person under “Staff” – publisher and editor Eric Marin.
To start an online publication, all you need is a web-publishing platform (Expanded Horizons, for example, publishes using WordPress), good internet connection, submission guidelines, and time that can be devoted to going through the pile of submissions. Compare this with the money you’ll have to shell out in order to produce your first print issue, factoring in the cost of printing, distribution, and the like.
I’ve published magazines. Since high school, three of ’em. I’ve edited when cut and paste literally meant scissors and Rubber Cement (so you could move columns and ads around). Changing typeface, sizes, adding images, all that’s so much easier with a computer and so much cheaper and faster than working with a printer. Time and money both saved. And more pros for e-zines:
For a writer, online publications also have their appeal. The online space is a site for experimentation, as shown by Adam David’s use of hypertext in his short story *snip*. On a more practical level, submissions to online publications are also cheaper to transmit, as a writer only has to e-mail a story, or submit via an online submission system. This beats the traditional method–printing out a manuscript, buying stamps, enclosing a SASE and lining up in a post office–by a mile.
And the biggest plus of all for the writer: with so many–like hundreds and hundreds–to submit to without cost and easy as pushing a button, the hardest part is keeping track of what was sent where. Another barrier broken down by internet publication is the “no simultaneous submission” statement that most writers, often waiting six months for a reply, lied about anyway. (I didn’t, but then the Catholic rose in me and the face of an angry nun causes sweat to form and I just couldn’t do it.) This of course means that anybody who thinks they can write (an estimated 95% of the population) is sitting in their jammies writing single-paragraph stories and bombarding the market with their words.
So yes, there’s good and bad news with all that technology opens up. I believe that as the print/online status question fades into the background, replaced by the short/long dilemma, there will always be a standard that fine writing sets for itself.
Do read the articles and follow the links offered.
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