Flash Fiction Chronicles

Ever notice how much writing advice there is floating around out there?  Well here are some of the most common ones I’ve heard and my take on them.

Advice: Writing is re-writing.

“I don’t write, I rewrite, that’s when all the fun begins. I just get it all out in the first draft, then I spend countless hours going back and editing, editing, editing.”

Okay, revision is important. But do we really just need to throw caution to the wind when do our first drafts? I contend that, especially with flash, the answer is no. I think those hours editing, editing, editing would be far better spent studying dramatic structure, successful stories we admire, or even just day dreaming. You put good stuff in, good stuff will come out. Overworking a flash piece can ruin it by the second pass. Too much revision is far worse than not enough.

Suggestion: If it doesn’t work set it aside for a while, a couple of months. Let the ideas percolate, then rewrite it from memory.

Advice: Keep a notebook for ideas.

“I keep a little notebook that I carry everywhere and record every stray thought that pops into my head. It’s a rich goldmine of ideas.”

Yeah, I’m sure it is a rich goldmine of random ideas. But good fiction is not made out of random thoughts. Yes, you might put a seed for a good idea in there sometime.  Yes, it might turn into a story for you. My line of thought on this advice is that if the idea is not good enough to stick in your head, it’s probably not all that great of an idea. If you aren’t obsessed with the idea, it’s not worth writing about. Flash is short and sweet, most of us are quite capable of rendering the whole thing in our heads.

Suggestion: Most authors I know do keep some kind of idea file on their computer usually just a one liner or a title. There is nothing wrong with this, per se, but again, if you can’t keep the idea in your head long enough to sit down and file it, it probably is not worth saving.

Advice: Write everyday, form a habit.

“I get up every morning at the crack of dawn, and write four pages.  If not, evil gremlins will come and eat my brains!”

Would be nice to have that kind of motivation, right? Unfortunately it is impossible to do this for most people. I think most of us writing flash are not professional writers and have jobs and families, and complex ‘real-life’  lives to attend to.  One of the fun things about writing flash is it doesn’t require long term commitment. Why not dash out a flash when you have a few minutes? No need to feel guilty that you can’t always find the time.

Suggestion: To be efficient with your time, combine daydreaming with a strong understanding of the craft of fiction. It’s often easier to fit in a few minutes reading up on writing advice than to produce a draft. Better that you do something towards developing your skills than nothing. Read, develop the story in your head, watch people (your kids, coworkers, etc) for details that might be useful. Anything.

Advice: Author’s should always get paid for their work.

“I only submit to top tier magazines that pay pro rates.”

Get published much? Probably not. The fact is there are a 1000 writers who are worse than you who are getting published. And there are a 1000 writers better than you waiting in line for their slots. Writers should get paid for their work, but keep in mind that flash is a close cousin to poetry, traditionally not a very lucrative venture. Most flash ezines need the money more than you do. Most flash ezines are labors of love with the editors paying out of their pockets.

Suggestion: Donate cash payments back to the ezine or some where like Duotrope these are the places that are keeping the scene alive. They are developing the audience for you. Think of your donated flashes as advertisements for your longer works (you are writing a novel aren’t you? Or will someday.) Creating ‘branding’ for your fiction has a long term value that exceeds the professional rates. We new writers have a vested interest in keeping the scene alive, right? (Obviously I’m not saying one should never submit to top tier magazines, just that not every story you write will be top tier.)

Advice: Writing is magical, mystical and hard.

“Every word I write is gut-wrenching agony, exposing my soul to the world.”

Right. This is the worst of the lot. I’ve often thought, I must be doing this wrong. I’ve never been miserable writing;  if so I wouldn’t do it. There are some stages I like more than others, of course. But if writing is a painful experience at any level, for god-sakes, go take up needlepoint or something. Writing is a craft; writing can be used to illustrate complex philosophy, existential woe, or something as simple as a lost pet that is found. Writing is like wood working, model ship building, or painting. It takes practice and determination. If it is causing you to suffer, go do something else; the world has enough writers. Flash is a bad place to try to unleash your angst and misery, not enough room for that sort of thing.

Suggestion: Write for fun; write for yourself; write from the heart, but most of all, write your best. If you’ve done your best then you’ve succeeded. Develop your craft; develop yourself as a human being, but where the two overlap is thin and fragile and can easily wreck an otherwise perfectly good story.

Advice: Bosley has a clue, listen to him.

“Bosley Gravel is a writing genius and with his dozens of published short stories and a forthcoming novel The Movie from BeWrite Books slated for pre-Christmas release), he must know almost everything there is to know about writing.”

Ahem, while I appreciate the flattery–what a load. If there were to be a Number One Rule about writing, it would be that there are no rules.

Suggestion: Do what works for you. Trust your instincts. That’s not to say ignore all advice you get because you know best. Lots of editors and writers will offer you perfectly good advice and lots of them will not ‘get’ your writing and make some very odd suggestions. Your job is to separate the two.

Knowing what advice to take and when to trust your own instincts can be hard and confusing sometimes, but becoming an expert in any field is difficult. The bottom line is that writing is an act of individualism. Only you can write your stories and only you can make them perfect. If some advice doesn’t suit you, ignore it. It’s allowed, and I’ll even suggest it for the best. Keeps things interesting.

Don’t agree?  Want to fight about it?   Post a comment and tell us your take on these or any other bits of advice you’ve heard.

Bosley Gravel, eclectic hack writer, was born in the Midwest, and came of age in Texas and southern New Mexico. He writes in a variety of genres. His fiction focuses on the absurdly tragic, and the tragically absurd. He likes good black coffee, nightmares, Billie Holiday, and that hour just before the sun comes up. Visit his site for links to his fiction, and contact information.

Coming soon: his debut literary novel The Movie from BeWrite Books (for pre-Christmas Release).

A recent contributor to the Flash Fiction Chronicles, Syrie James, has a new book coming out June 30.  The Secret Diaries of Charlotte Brontë is a bio-novel  about the author of the beloved 19th century masterpiece, Jane Eyre.

Charlotte Bronte is Syrie’s exciting follow up to her best-selling novel The Lost Memoirs of Jane Austen which was named Best First Novel of 2008 by Library Journal.  Here’s what Syrie has to say about her new endeavor.

Inspired by Charlotte’s correspondence, and based almost entirely on fact, Secret Diaries exposes Charlotte’s innermost thoughts, feelings, and desires, the inspiration behind her novels, her scandalous, secret passion for the man she can never have. . . and her intense, dramatic relationship with the man she comes to love.  Although I used my imagination to fill in gaps, I believe this is Charlotte’s story just as she might have written it herself.

For more about Syrie James and The Secret Diaries of Charlotte Brontë, check out her website www.syriejames.com.

I have a twinkling of an idea for a story:

She awoke slowly, sleep still grasping. Her surroundings were strange, her thoughts running to fear. A sharp clatter brought her fully awake now and heart pounding, she drew in a deep breath…

Flash, as a form, must be a whole story, not a scene, not idly lifted from some longer work, not open-ended. All stories have one thing in common—a beginning, a middle, and an end. And flash is no exception.

In poetry I can paint a picture, draw a beautiful scene, person, or object and set it before the reader to behold. A novel can plod along building like a wall through any number of scenes, dialogue, twists of plot, and a dozen characters. In a short story I can write five or six thousand words to get from start to finish.

But flash needs many of these points, as well as a quick, attention-grabbing beginning, all rolled up and tucked into bed in under a thousand words—and in some markets, far less!

So back to that twinkling. I’m like a potter at the wheel. I have this lump of clay of an idea. But although the clay is on the wheel, I need a bit of water and a flip of the switch to get the wheel turning—if not my foot to a peddle!

Now what? A pot, vase, or perhaps a bowl? Yes, I can go many ways. But if I don’t add water, spin the wheel, dirty my hands on the formation of whatever I decide to create then all I’ll ever have is a lump of clay.

So, I take that young woman and draw her through some conflict to a satisfying conclusion. From her awakening—in the future? a vampire’s dungeon? her Ex’s bed? along a dark roadside? She might have any one of these dilemmas. But I need to get her home, with peril on the way, or maybe drive her to oblivion—all to reach the final word.

Complete. Beginning, Middle, End. And all in a thousand words.

DJ Barber writes stories, flash, poems, and novels. He was born in the northeast and lives in the northwest. When not writing he has a wife and two dogs that keep him busy.  He has been published online at Every Day Fiction, Moon Drenched Fables, Tales From the Moonlit Path, Big Pulp, Every Day Poets, and Everyday Weirdness.

In print, DJ has been published by Darker Intentions Press, Odyssey Magazine, has a short story in the anthology, Damned in Dixie, and has a flash in the Best of Every Day Fiction 2008.

DJ would like to remind everyone that even a broken clock is right twice a day.

Consider lightning.  This phenomenon cracks open the sky, takes our breath away, but we might miss it if not for the warning of thunder.  We hear the deep rumble, we look up, tension sparking the air, and wait for the flash.  Thunder grabs our attention and lightning dazzles our eyes, and together they stir our hearts. 

Flash Fiction is fast, a 1000 words or less, every sentence written with purpose, not a word to waste.  And if this statement is true, it’s even truer for the first few words.   

In a story, especially a short story, the opening sentence, like thunder, arrests our attention, charms us, makes us curious.  If it doesn’t, we’ll turn our heads, move on, and miss the show. 

Consider the following examples from Every Day Fiction’s Top Ten List. 

We were children, not lovers, but as we lay on the grass looking at stars, talking of angels, she took my hand and said that a moment can change everything.  One Bright Moment, by Joel Willans.

“You are my heart and muscle, Yardi,” Napier would say. “There is no criminal in all of Marseilles who can stand against us.” Without Napier, by Michael Ehart.

Do they create tension?  Do they conjure up an image? How much do they tell the reader about character, plot, and setting?  What do they promise the reader?  Do they have a rhythm that seduces? In other words, do they rumble? 

Although not every first sentence can fulfill every purpose, a well-crafted one will announce, at the very least, something is about to happen.

What is “about to happen” in “One Bright Moment?”

Two children are star-gazing, talking of angels, and one says “a moment can change everything.”  The reader might be thinking, “what kind of moment?”  A good one?  Bad one?

Is there tension? 

The two main characters, a boy and a girl, are talking about angels.  This might suggest to a reader that death is lurking down the page or perhaps an illness.  The reader knows the peaceful first moment is brief. 

Is there an image? 

Children on their backs in the grass close enough to each other to join hands. 

What does the first line promise? 

This boy and girl are “not lovers,” but the reader might wonder, will they be lovers, and is this what this story is about?  Or will it be about what stands in their way, what will change in a moment?

What is “about to happen” in “Without Napier,” the second example.

Two men work as an “invincible” team against the criminal element, but the reader senses that one of the partners is no longer around through the words, “Napier would say…”  This perception is reinforced by the title of the story. 

Is there tension? 

Each of the two characters, Napier and Yardi, has his own skill set.  The reader understands that if Yardi is the heart and muscle, then Napier must be the brains. If one of the partners is gone and the other must fight alone, will he survive?

Is there an image? 

An implied image of two men working together on the side of right because they work against the criminal element, but with the designation of the setting, “Marseilles,” the whole of a reader’s knowledge of France, sea ports, and a few French words comes into play.  

What does the first line promise? 

The partner who is left behind will probably have to fight against the criminal element.  Without the “brains” of the operation, he will be the underdog.  Will he be smart enough to succeed?

 In the examples above, much is given to the reader as soon as he or she begins to read.

• The general nature of the characters, children, not old enough to be lovers, in one; male colleagues in the other. 
• A sense that whatever the situation has been, that situation will change in the story, thus creating tension.
• The setting is also suggested by the language used, a grassy place at night in “Moment” and a French seaport in “Napier.” 
• Characters set down in a specific place and time create an image for the reader.
• Each first line offers a question to be answered by the end of the piece: what will change for the two children in a moment and will Yardi survive without Napier?
• Each line has a rhythm that suggests the tone of the story.

Sometimes a perfect first sentence comes into a writer’s mind and inspires a particular story.  The words grow from those beginnings for the writer just as they grow for the reader.

However, frequently the language a writer uses to get himself started will not survive the rigors of writing and rewriting .  What the writer thought he was going to write changes.  In that case, it is the responsibility of the writer to craft openings that will entice readers and authentically enhance the story that follows. 

I’m not saying that a strong first line can make or break a story, but if a reader isn’t caught up in the first few sentences, he may not read far enough into the story to find out how good it is.

Here are some examples of openings.  Which entice you enough to click the link?  Do they have rhythm? Do they rumble?

“H… hello, Mr. Sterne.”

Water drips from icicles outside the kitchen window.

It was over 80 degrees in our Hollywood bungalow when my mother opened the door to our O’Keefe and Merritt oven, turned on the gas, and stuck in her head.

 He was D44 and Linda was D45, and, not being the earliest to take their seats, they did the sideways shuffle, coats in hand with smiling apologies.

 Aye aye, lad. You made it then. You cut it so fine I was beginning to think you might not be coming.

Tires crunched driveway stone and a black sedan appeared at the gate.

A toothpick hung from Lester’s mouth.

Three cookies arrived with our check from Pappa Chow’s Chinese Buffet.

I pulled out my old copy of  What If? (1990) by Anne Bernays and Pamela Painter last week after reading  Ms. Painter’s essay “You and the Piano Bench” in Rose Metal’s Field Guide to Writing Flash Fiction, edited by Tara L. Masih. 

Running through the table of contents of What If? was like being plopped down at a Ritz-Carlton Sunday Brunch of Butt-Kicking Advice.   The “table” is piled with tasty dishes: “Beginnings” and “Notebooks” offer ways to get started. The main entrees of “Characterization,” “Point of View,” and “Plot” come next, followed by just desserts, “Resolution and Meaning.”   Garnishes such as “Dialogue” and “Games” crowd in between. 

The chapter I dove into is called “From Situation to Plot,” and that’s where I found the delicious quotation from Heraclitus:  “Character is destiny.”  Wow, I thought, I gotta share this.  Great advice for short fiction writers!

In their writing handbook, authors Bernays and Painter reference another book  Technique in Fiction  by Robie Macauley and George Lanning, stating that this “observation ‘character is destiny’ should be ‘written on the wall of every novelist’s study.’ ”

Why? Because it contains the two basic ingredients for any story, long or short.  

CHARACTER and PLOT: A particular character with specific strengths, flaws, and desires is put into a particular situation where he or she must take action and eventually resolve that situation either happily or tragically. 

Who that character is  (strengths and weaknesses) determines the action taken in the given situation, and  therefore also determines the results of that action.  This revelation of character under duress is why we read, listen to, and watch stories.

“Character is destiny.”  This aphorism from a Greek philosopher from Ephesus offers the some of the best advice I’ve seen for the writing of flash fiction.  It’s short!  No words are wasted.  Each word is essential. A character creates his own life by the actions he or she takes in any given situation.  Perfect. 

So for the writer of flash, I offer two bits advice.

1) Character: create a specific character who has  flaws; however, in the brief space of 500 or 1000 words, focus on one flaw, one weakness, something that creates doubt in the reader: how will this character come through this specific situation because, oh my gosh, he might not!  This helps instill empathy and emotion in the reader.

2) Situation: create a specific situation that challenges the very flaw a character has and don’t make it easy.  The choices available to the character depend on genre, but most choices work best when they aren’t between obvious good and obvious evil, but two evils.  Maybe between two goods also, but the point is that the choices be difficult, that the choices must call up in the character all his strength to choose right if the story is to end well…or choose wrong if the story is to end in tragedy.

In this way, the character creates his own destiny by his choices.  It is evitable and therefore, rings true.

So. 

“Character is destiny.”  

Write it out. 

Tape it to your computer.

Now get to work.

If you touch type, try this the next time you begin a piece of flash.

Get situated at the keyboard, open a blank page in your word processor and tie a blindfold over your eyes. Sit for a minute or so, listening to the sounds around you, feel the keys beneath your fingertips, the faint vibration of the earth turning beneath you, sample the aromas carried to your nose.

Now write.

There’s nothing magical about wearing the blindfold, of course, and I’m not suggesting that you should write about the experience or even practice the trick every time you sit down to work.

It’s just a tool to get you thinking in reverse, thinking about how much poorer your life would be if sight were the only sense you had to depend upon. And how much more is going on around you that just what you see.

Of course, sight is the sense we all depend upon the most, studies have shown that over and over. It peppers our every conversation. I see what you mean. I like the look of that. I’ll keep an eye out for him.

But as a writer, if you are not talking full advantage of the marvelous scene-setting details available to you though senses other than sight, your stories will be the poorer for the loss.

Don’t overwhelm your readers with detail, of course. Remember, you’re writing flash, you’re on a word budget. But use all your senses to set the scene and draw the reader into your written world.

Season your story with sensation of all sorts: the bright yellow of a child’s sun dress; the thick snap of a broken bone: the hint of fragrance on a pillow; the taste of soured milk or the oiled feel of dirty water.

Take the time to pay attention and you can think of much better examples.

So, close your eyes and write. It will trigger your imagination, which will trigger your readers’ imaginations, for there are so many sensations that we all have in common, so much more than what we see.

K. C. Ball grew up in Ohio, with her nose in a book, and now lives in Seattle, a stone’s throw from Puget Sound.

Her flash fiction has appeared on-line at Every Day Fiction, Boston Literary Magazine, Fear & Trembling, Every Day Weirdness, Flashshot and Moon Drenched Fables, as well as in print in Murky Depths #8 and the 2008 Best of Every Day Fiction anthology.

Her most recent flash, At Both Ends, was published June 3rd in Flash Fiction Online in June and one of her longer pieces, Coward’s Steel, won 3rd place in the Hubbard Foundation’s 1st Quarter, 2009, Writers of the Future competition.

K. C. is a staff reader for Every Day Fiction and blogs about writing at A Moving Line or whatever may strike her fancy at Now Playing in Seattle.

I’ve been working on a story, “Starkville,” draft by draft, and posting it, warts and all, over at  Words in Place. 

Although sometimes whole essays or stories present themselves as full entities, these occasions are rare for me. I need to revisit a piece of work several times before putting it out for public consumption, but this time I’m putting it out there during the process.  Brave for me.  I used to be one of those people who could be alone in a room and still be embarrassed by her writing.

But now that I understand that writing is a process, I look forward to the stage after my first “shit” draft.  The stage where I dive in, analyze, cogitate, simmer. 

There is, of  course, the knowledge that on the other side of multiple drafts lays the obvious joy of having a better product.  But  rewriting itself has its own allure, its own rewards during the act of rewriting.  It’s in the thrill of the challenge, and the moments when frustration breaks out, but patience wins over. 

It’s similar to working a crossword puzzle or a sudoku.   Sometimes when I run up against an impenetrable block of black and white squares in a crossword puzzle,  I have to give up for awhile, walk away, wash a few dishes, but I know, know, when I get back to it, I’ll experience a breakthrough.  The anwers to a series of clues will be startlingly clear, one completed word leading to the next and the next after that.  And there’s that moment of triumph. 

The same is true with rewriting.  The frustration, the patience, the breakthrough.  Dish-washing isn’t always about procrastination.

The act of writing is organic .  It grows and changes and twists back on itself, and then grows again.  Unless someone has sold you a handful of magic beans,  growth can only happen if given time and tending.  I’ve learned (and it’s been a long hard lesson) to have faith in the process and by doing that, I’ve learned to have faith in myself. 

When I first sit down to write a new piece, I’m excited to see what happens. I throw words and ideas down, conscious of, but not worried about, clarity, connection, conciseness. At that point, I don’t stress too much because I know there are forgotten angles, structural screw-ups, words misused, people offended. It’s on the revisits that a piece develops and deepens, and for me, that’s where the fun is. I am seduced by the promise of discovering something in my head I didn’t know was there the first time around. Returning to the work often leads into “epiphany.”

This self-enlightenment can only come from setting aside a project and letting it percolate. That’s trite, but it’s dead-on accurate. While the first draft is locked in my subconscious (the brain’s back burner) , I go about my life. It cooks. I forget about it. Then I come back. The act of moving it out to the front of the stove (the conscious brain) is rewarding. What do I have here? I made this? Let me taste it. Has the flavor of the dish (story/essay) deepened? What spices (a sex scene, more conflict, a startling fact) will it need to be better? What in the world have I forgotten? 

The best and most gratifying part is, if it isn’t just right, story or essay, crossword puzzle, or even the gumbo I’m serving for dinner, I can make it work.

Usually it’s the “fixed” product I put out there for public consumption or at least as fixed as I think it needs to be.  But with “Starkville,” which wasn’t “Starkville” when I started, I wanted to see what would happen if I put it out there right from the shit draft on. 

It’s been motivating. 

Get in that chair, Gay, make it better.  You’re embarrassing yourself by leaving that draft up there.   

And it’s been confidence-building. 

Have faith, Gay.  You’ve got a lot of words still in you, so don’t worry about one piece of writing so much.  Just do it, for pete’s sake and lighten up. 

I guess I’ve finally learned enough not to mind being stark-naked in public!

So if you want to read the most current draft of Starkville, as of today June 12, click here.  And then check back.  It just might get better.

Rose Metal Press has published a new book called Field Guide to Writing Flash Fiction, Tips from Editors, Teachers, and Writers in the Field, edited by Tara L. Masih.  This short (of course!) 157 page-handbook gives beginning writers of flash fiction a place to start and continuing flashers a much-needed resource. 

In their introduction, publishers Abigail Beckel and Kathleen Rooney discuss flash (0-1500 word range) as fiction that blends “genres and forms.”    However, in presenting the conventions of flash fiction, they wanted a book that would not “pin said inventive forms down with strict definitions.”   What they offer instead is “a book of ideas about and for flash fiction.” 

Editor Tara L. Masih has pulled together many of those ideas in twenty-five essays by writers such writers as Ron Carlson, Rusty Barnes, Kim Chinquee, Steve Almond, Vanessa Gebbie, Robert Olen Butler, Stuart Dybek, and Randall Brown.  The essays are divided into useful categories including “Freedom and Feeling in the Form,” “Beginnings and Endings,” and “Focusing and Editing,” making the book a user-friendly field guide to Flash Fiction, to be read either as it has been put together or searched through for specific help or inspiration.

“In Pursuit of the Short Short Story,”  the editor’s introduction, Ms. Masih opens with the following quotation, “Each drop encases its own separate note, the way each drop engulfs its own blue pearl of light,” from Stuart Dybek’s story “Nighthawks.”  Although this description in its original context is meant to define rain, Ms. Masih believes it is “as close to a definition of flash fiction” as she can give us.  The editor of the “Field Guide” then unfolds a history of the short short story beginning with Washington Irving and Poe to its present incarnation on the internet and in print journals dedicated to short short fiction. 

As for the essays, they offer insights into the art and craft of flash as well process.  Vanessa Gebbie writes about kidnapping the reader and using prompts in her piece called “Fireworks and Burnt Toast.”   Shouhua Qi discusses the origin of flash in China where short shorts are called Minute Stories, Pocket-Size Stories, and more familiar to the online flash reader, Smoke-Long stories.  In Robert Olen Butler’s “A Short Short Theory,” the author expands James Joyce’s one ephiphany at the end of a story to include a similar epiphany early on in the piece, “when the yearning of the character shines forth.”  Many of the essays feature flash fiction pieces written by their authors.

A useful, intelligent addition to the discussion of flash fiction, Field Guide to Writing Flash Fiction manages to give readers what they want to know about flash fiction without limiting the genre with “strict definitions.”

The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Writing Flash Fiction:
Tips from Editors, Teachers, and Writers in the Field.
Edited by Tara L. Masih
ISBN: 978-0-9789848-6-1
$15.95

 Order directly from Rose Metal Press

Mindy Friddle’s first novel, The Garden Angel, was a Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers selection and a NPR Summer Reading Pick. Her second novel, Secret Keepers, was published by St. Martin’s Press in May. She lives in Greenville, South Carolina where she directs The Writing Room, a nonprofit community-based program offering workshops and seminars to writers of all levels.

Q &A

Flash Fiction Chronicles:  Welcome, Mindy,  and thank you for stopping by EDF’s Flash Fiction Chronicles along your blog tour for your new novel, Secret Keepers. 

Although we are a website dedicated to quality short fiction, writers are avid readers and understand there is much to learn from novelists.  Character, story arc, dialogue, setting, and theme cross all genres.  

Can we talk a little about the story and characters first?  Secret Keepers has an unusual protagonist. Emma Hanley is seventy-two, yet she wants to strike out on an adventure.  Who is she and what happens to her in this story? 

Mindy: Thanks for inviting me to stop on the blog tour. I hope to pass along some information on writing that’s helpful!

The novel is about a group of characters who are stuck–in a town, in marriages, in estranged relationships with their children and parents, in past mistakes, mired in memories–and how they try to move on. 

As I mention on my website, The Story Behind Secret Keepers, I started writing Secret Keepers after imagining Emma Hanley gazing at a family portrait, stuck in her hometown. Like George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life, she yearns to leave. Just when it looks like she might get her wish, her husband heads off to his morning coffee klatch with a gaggle of adoring widow women, and Emma’s dream of travel is stymied. Again. 

And then she has her hands full juggling the demands of her adult children. A motley group of gardeners, the Blooming Idiots, complicate matters when they unearth some strange botanicals and the Hanley family’s secrets. Nature, it turns out, is a major character in Secret Keepers. But I hope the reader finds that in the course of the novel — through regret, broken hearts, and grief — humor winds like a flowering vine.

FFC:  You’re from South Carolina and a “Southern Writer.”  What does that mean in terms of the character, dialogue, and setting?  What about theme in Secret Keepers?

Mindy:   The fictional town of Palmetto–in both of my novels– is loosely based on my own hometown of Greenville, South Carolina and its overlay of New South over Old South. But I like to think the heartbreaks, triumphs, family squabbles, and the “heart in conflict with itself,” as Faulkner put it, are universal. Mother-daughter conflicts, for example. And controlling husbands. Lust. Loyalty. On and on. 

I think the epigraph that opens Secret Keepers, taken from one of Katherine Mansfield’s letters, expresses the theme of the novel: “How hard it is to escape from places. However carefully one goes they hold you — you leave little bits of yourself fluttering on the fences — little rags and shreds of your very life.”

 FFC:  Flash fiction is the perfect vehicle for learning and experimenting with different genres.  In addition to your comments above, is there any other conventions a writer need consider if wanting to write in the “Southern” genre?

Mindy:  Flash fiction is a wonderful way to exert pressure on a scene. At times–especially in a longer manuscript– you may have a scene that doesn’t seem to work–maybe it meanders, maybe you aren’t sure what the conversation should do, or what should happen. It seems flat. A novel, after all, is elastic– but can get flabby.

If you pare a scene down, revise it, cut it down to its essence, and consider each word, each sentence–which often happens when you write flash fiction–you can hone in on what works. Words make up sentences, sentences make up scenes, scenes make up chapters, chapters make up novels.

One novel I really admire and count as a favorite is Mrs. Bridge by Evan Connell. It is a novel made up of exquisite, economical, elegant scenes, tiny brushstrokes–and each one has an arc, like a flash fiction collection.

 FFC:  Many writers of short fiction are either writing a novel or want to write a novel.  What has been your experience with “writing short” and if you have, how has doing so helped you write long?

Mindy: I think a lot of writers have a sense of whether they have a long stride–attracted to writing longer works, with a longer arc–or whether they prefer polishing the jewels of short fiction. You learn to do both.

I encourage students who are writing novels to read poetry and flash fiction—and even better to write it—because of the concise nature of the language, the focus on words and the power of imagery. Different set of muscles!

I recently entered a flash fiction contest and had a blast. It was a horticultural short-short story contest at Gardenrant that had a 99-word limit. I won a pair of garden gloves and a garden book. I culled the short-shorts from my novel. I have the entries posted on my blog.

 FFC: You’ve earned your MFA from Warren Wilson College in Asheville, North Carolina .  How did this experience help to hone your craft? 

Mindy:  One of the best things that helped shape me as a writer was the fact that my family lived on an Army base in Germany in my formative years, and there was no television to speak of. Just a big library.

I believe reading–a lot, widely, deeply, all kinds of books–is the best thing a writer can do to hone her craft.

MFA Degrees might help if you want them to, or if you want to teach, but I think they’re overrated. Choose writing classes you’re intensely interested in, go to writers’ conferences to make friends and get focused. But most of all, schedule writing time and read, read, read.

FFC:  Who do you recommend aspiring novelists, Southern and otherwise, read?

Mindy:  You can’t go wrong reading all kinds of fiction, contemporary and classics.  I grew up reading Carson McCullers and Eudora Welty, among many others. I also read Stephen King, Elmore Leonard, James Jones, Marilyn French.

This is actually an important, but frustrating question to answer because there’s no way to list all the books that have moved me!  Mona Simpson, Pat Conroy,  Ann Tyler, Richard Russo. 

Some of my all time favorite novels—this is a very partial list—Ironweed by William Kennedy, The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison, every novel written by Ann Tyler, The Secret History by Donna Tartt, The White Hotel by DM Thomas, The Hours by Michael Cunningham, The World According to Garp by John Irving, Norwood by Charles Portis, The Color Purple by Alice Walker, Veronica by Mary Gaitskill, Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson, Amy and Isabel by Elizabeth Strout, Nobody’s Fool by Richard Russo, Barbara Kingsolver, and lots of classic southern faves: Jill McCorkle, Lee Smith, Allan Garganus, Josephine Humphreys,  Kaye Gibbons,  Michael Lee West—Crazy Ladies, love it—and Fannie Flagg. 

 FFC: What other advice would you give to emerging writers in general?

Mindy:  I try to keep to a schedule of  writing five times a week for several hours or 1,000 words per session, depending on what I’m working on. I draft, then revise, then get a reader or two to weigh in, then revise more. It’s not easy or effortless. But I do love when I feel the “portal” is open, and creativity is flowing not from me, but THROUGH me. 

Some days are productive, some aren’t. I think you learn to accept that, and push beyond the discouragement. For my first novel, I wrote mainly on weekends. 

Find what works for you, and be good to yourself. Hold off on judging when you are writing your first draft—save that for revision. Also, find a group of fellow writers. You can read each other’s work. Here’s why: You’ll often learn a great deal about your own writing by closely reading and critiquing a fellow writer’s work. It’s amazing how this helps! Of course, be gentle…point out what works. Knowing what works in a piece is so helpful.

 FFC:  What’s next for you?

Mindy:  hope I’ll be drafting a new novel soon. Meanwhile, my garden calls. The tomatoes and squash are growing like crazy, and the lettuce needs thinning. Sometimes I get my best ideas when my hands are in the soil

Thanks, Mindy, for allowing EDF’s Flash Fiction Chronicles to be a part of your Blog Tour.  Wishing you great success with Secret Keepers and the writing of your next novel. 

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SECRET KEEPERS:  strong storytelling, comic touches, prickly family dynamics, and the magical power of nature.
St. Martin’s Press
Read an excerpt at www.mindyfriddle.com
On Sale: 4/27/2009
ISBN: 978-0-312-53702-9
ISBN-10: 0-312-53702-6
Also available: THE GARDEN ANGEL (St. Martin’s Press & Picador)