creating a short story

 Although I wrote a few short stories when I was a kid, I haven't ever done anything with them and am not sure how they would measure up today. It was fun though to create something that didn't take so many words. Back then, I didn't know rules about short story creation. My stories were simple (always romances).

Then I got into novels. Some of them up to 140,000 words. I only thought about writing anything shorter two years ago when I was thinking it'd be fun to write a Christmas story. I got that idea in the middle of the Nevada desert as we were heading for Tucson-- but it was December. Once I got to our Tucson house, the story virtually wrote itself as I used characters from an earlier novel. When you know your characters, plotting a story goes fast.

When I wrote that novella, I did a little research on what made a book a novella, what were the rules? There aren't a lot in terms of what must be in them. Basically here is the average expectation for length.

Novel over 40,000 words

Novella 17,500- 40,000 words

Novelette 7,500 - 17,500 words

Short story - under 7500 words

Pretty simple although, like with all this, not everyone agrees, but it's a guideline. Very few romances are less than 80,000 words. Mysteries tend to be around 65,000 and maybe chick lit is the 40,000. Some say a novel has to be 100,000 to 175,000 words but a new author, who hasn't yet been published, can't even get a publishing house to look at a book over 100,000 words.

Novellas have a loose format which is nice when writing like my Christmas story. I didn't have to have all the elements expected in a novel. 

Then when I had that dream which led to the recent novella, When Fates Conspire, I believed it was best suited to a novella. It had a point. I didn't want to flesh it out beyond what was required to make that point. The story had something to say and needed to say it concisely and to the point-- which is why I left out the sex scenes I enjoy writing. I consider a lot of my books to be spicy but one recent reader told me they were not and more like you'd see in a movie. Well it's all in the eye of the beholder anyway, isn't it!

Agreeing to do a short story was even more interesting to consider. There have been some very famous short story writers--O. Henry, Mark Twain, Edgar Allen Poe, etc. Some in magazines led to movies because in some ways short stories, with their more direct approach, lend themselves well to a film. Some famous western movies like Stagecoach (The Stage to Lordsburg by Ernest Haycox) or Hondo (The Gift of Cochise by Louis L'Amour) came out of magazine short stories. 

So what do short stories require: characters, which could be only one; setting including time; plot series of events; conflict where character faces a challenge; and theme-- why is it there?  Classic short stories obviously include these and become timeless. It generally is told from one point of view and that might be first person. So a short story isn't just a few words. It has a reason for being. 

When I decided I wanted to be part of this anthology, I thought about these issues in deciding my own short story. The thing I wanted was a character I'd already developed. For me characters are a starting point for everything I write. I tend to see my stories as character driven. From them, the rest will come.

Writing my first short story was not only rewarding but then came being part of a group of writers-- another first for me. I had offered to create a blog to promote the anthology and it will be out when the book is published. For the blog, I quickly realized it'd be better if more were involved than me. There were 7 co-authors and two who were integral into it becoming the blog it did. 

Along with that, I also created two trailers-- if you can believe it. One of them emphasizes the spirit of western romance writing. The other is more about this exact anthology. They also will appear right before the book. 

I gotta say with the trailers and blog, I ended up even dreaming about how to put it altogether. It absorbed everything in me for awhile. I was totally happy when it was done as finally I could get back to my own writing-- and that's when I wrote the rough draft of the second novella for my own trilogy of fantasy romances set in  Billings, Montana (research for third one consuming my life right now).

I like challenges in writing and the short story gave me something new on several levels. I hope readers will enjoy it. There is something to be said for short stories in a world like ours where people are busy and on the go.

Maggie and the anthology

When talk began about a group of writers doing an anthology, a lot of issues had to be resolved. When you put together a bunch of writers, all who have books already out there, how do you make decisions for one book involving them all? The biggest advantage actually to our anthology was the diversity of authors with a united love of westerns and romance-- and one more thing.

This is a group which came together at the Amazon Forums and in a thread begun by a lady called Maggie. She is a Wyoming reader who loves western romance and set out to create a place for writers and readers to meet-- Western Romance Authors Please Post Here #2. (the #2 is because it went over the 10,000 post limit and at that point, you are either done or start over). I arrived in the forums shortly after my first books had come out on Kindle. I wasn't sure I fit western romance at that time as my published books were not historical and not all could be considered western, but Maggie welcomed me as she does everyone. 

She has established a creative, friendly environment with writers who encourage each other, discuss topics, sometimes their lives, awards, and books. Basically we have become internet friends, and it's all due to Maggie-- as is this coming anthology which has been dedicated to her. To me she stands for all the readers who encourage writing books they love and are as vital to every genre as the writers.

In her thread, Maggie regularly posts free Kindle books and something else that has been fun. She gives five words and asks writers to come up with a story using them. That story can be a paragraph or much longer. I like reading what different writers create. I've participated in it a few times. The following is one of mine using the words Maggie gave--

Marshal, Preacher, School Teacher, Undertaker, and Banker

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Marshal Aaron Sharp walked down the street his mind not on what lay ahead but what was behind. He was getting too old for this job. He'd slowed and soon others would know it too. If he didn't give up the badge and gun, he'd be underground with no preacher reading words over him, without even a marker to remind folks he'd ever lived.

The day was hot, the dust his boots stirred up reminded him there were cooler climates. Anybody could take over his job. He could do something else, something that didn't demand he buckle on a belt, holster and gun every morning. Maybe he'd be a teacher like his brother. He laughed silently at the silliness of that idea. He wasn't the school teacher sort. He really only knew one thing-keeping the law.

Ahead Sharp saw the man who had been raising the ruckus. One more time. He could do it one more time. "Drop your gun," Aaron yelled continuing to walk. The man, who had been shooting at the bank, turned, his small eyes now focused on Aaron. "They took my money, that cheating banker took my farm." He looked back toward the building. "Come on out, you sniveling coward."

"It's not worth it, friend," Aaron tried one more time but saw it wasn't going to work as the man shifted his gun to point at him. It happened in what seemed slow motion. He pulled his own 44, firing as he brought it to bear, aware a bullet had whizzed by his shoulder. Seconds later the angry man stumbled, a confused look came over his face before he crumpled to the dust.

Aaron only slid his own gun back in the holster when he assured himself the man was dead. What a waste! What a pathetic waste of life. Only the undertaker won this game. He shook his head as the people came out of their businesses to stand and look at him and then the dead man. He pointed at a small man at the edge of the growing crowd. "You, tell Wilson he's got a client."

He wouldn't quit today. Somebody had to protect the town. 

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I should add-- these are the same five words that one of the anthology authors used to create her short story. You suppose Maggie was training us all along? *s*

A short story for an anthology

With our short story anthology, Rawhide 'n Roses due out March 15th with a paperback soon after, I wanted to mention something about my own story for it. I took three characters from my Arizona historical romances. Two are central to this story and one comes in as a bit of a surprise. It's someone I have someday felt might warrant a book to tell more of the story.

This one though is about a character I had liked in Tucson Moon. The short story was a chance to do more with her character. I might not have seen the last of her or her husband as I do like keeping secondary characters around.

In this historical romance, set in 1889, Connie has followed her gambler husband, Del from boom town to boom town as he looks for places he can have enough players at his tables to support them. Finding herself in a small, mining town in California's high Sierras, because of the fear some have that she is a witch, she faces a threat to her life and more importantly to that of her beloved husband.

When someone has psychic powers, powers to heal, is it a curse or gift; and how should they use such special abilities? Those are the questions probed in this short story. It also asks the questions might such gifts come and go?

Excerpt:
       A rock crashed through the parlor window, shattering glass over the frayed Oriental rug. The yell followed right behind it. “Get out of here, witch.”

Although it wasn’t winter and the high Sierra air wasn’t that cold, Connie Sicilla shivered. She moved to the wall where she’d not be seen as the shouts continued for long moments.

“We know what to do with your kind!”

“Get out of town!” Was that voice a child’s. Somehow that seemed even more frightening. She was unsure how long it went on as she tried to find peace through meditating and not hearing the hateful words, some with curses accompanying. After what seemed long moments, she realized the voices had stopped.

She gritted her teeth against the temptation to cry, got her dustpan, went down on her knees, and carefully retrieved all visible shards of glass. How would their landlord regard the damage? Would he expect Del and her to pay for it?