Flash Writing: Some Guidelines (and my foray back to Steemit!)

I haven’t been on Steem for months, and it’s looking shiny and new around here! I hope to start to regularly post again. I had a few cool things happen in my writing life this fall. One of those things was the opportunity to teach a flash fiction workshop (as part of Litfest—a huge non-fiction festival that takes place in my city).   

I thought I’d share some of what we went over in the workshop here for those of you interested in learning about the flash form or looking for some encouragement to put some words on the page.

What is flash writing?   

Sometimes called micro fiction or micro non-fiction, sudden fiction or sudden non-fiction, or even short-short fiction or short-short non-fiction, this popular form is brief but full. Generally, these terms refer to stories that are between 50 and 1000 words.    

A strong piece of flash writing should not read like an excerpt from a longer work. Flash pieces are not simply opening paragraphs to something much longer or central scenes from novels. Instead, flash pieces should be full stories on their own. This popular form is the perfect place to sharpen your writing skills as it encourages experimentation and privileges language.

This is a pretty open form. It’s flexible. That lack of constraint makes flash fun to play around with but also difficult to master. There are few hard and fast rules, but there are some guidelines that can help you start to develop your craft.  

Some flash guidelines to consider

1) Just because it’s short, does not mean it’s quick to write (i.e. draft!).   

So, while the story is over in a flash, the work that goes into the creation of the story itself is (usually) not.    Strong flash stories are powerful and lasting.   

And, importantly—like all strong literary fiction or creative non-fiction—the story should linger with the reader long after they are finished reading in the way your eyes can still trace a bolt of lightning in the dark sky even after the flash has faded. That’s the goal.   

It’s okay to make your reader squint into the darkness; the flash fiction or non-fiction form asks your reader to do some of the work to make meaning, and you can trust that a careful reader will be able to do so.    

2) Ask: Does ___ add value?  

Practicing writing flash will only lend itself to strengthening your writing elsewhere because it forces you to pay close attention to language and punctuation and to ask: does ____ add value? (Does this word add value? This phrase? This sentence? This paragraph? This title?)      

3) Find a place to dive down.  In this form, that place is often at or near the end of the story. That dive below the surface brings us elsewhere. And suddenly there’s a whole world to explore or think about.    Often that dive brings us from the particular and concrete (the specifics of the story) to the more universal (i.e. the greater truth).

 4) Carefully consider entry and exit points.     

ENTRY: There is simply not a lot of time to develop setting (often only one clear cue is needed) or to work your way into the topic. The first sentence should thrust the reader right into the story. It should be immediate and it should be a hook .    

There is also not a lot of time to characterize or to introduce a cast of characters. Often, in the flash form, we can draw on existing archetypes: mother, brother, husband, daughter… and include one or two revealing details.

EXIT: Often this will be our dive down to open up the story (and to make meaning). Certainly, the end should not tie things up too neatly. Again, we want the story to linger with the reader and not live and die on the page.       

5) Include concrete, significant details.  

For flash non-fiction, this is particularly important. It helps to establish the ‘truth’ of the story. In non-fiction, the particular (those the personal, telling details) work to make meaning in our piece—do not be afraid of them.

There is no room for description for description’s sake in this form. Everything that remains on the page when you are finished drafting, must do work in the story. (For instance, it must help to show conflict, to situate the reader (by cueing them to where are we in place and time) or to reveal something about character.)   

If you’re interested in writing flash non-fiction (or just want to read a great piece), I encourage you to read Brenda Miller’s flash story titled “Swerve,” which beautifully illustrates what’s possible in the form and adheres to these guidelines. What are some of your favourite flash stories?