Award-winning author Deirdre Sullivan, a judge at this year’s Red Line Book Festival ITT Short Story Competition, writes for Culture.
Short Stories are a particular pleasure to read. They take you somewhere else, and leave you there, still thinking. I was honoured when The Red Line Book Festival ITT Short Story Competition asked me to judge this years entries, and I look forward to reading them. I’m going to share with you some things I have identified, and recommend some writers who are far more skilled in writing short fiction than myself.
1. Read. I’m still developing my own voice and technique as a short story writer, and I think every piece of fiction you encounter strengthens your own voice- reading as a writer is a little bit different that reading for pleasure, you can be transported, but are also aware of the mode of transport, what is efficient about it, and what would make the journey more comfortable, or memorable. This year I was moved and excited by the work of Carmen Maria Machado. Her confidence and fearlessness, and well as the myth and horror woven through her work was inspiring. Her Body and Other Parties is the kind of book that makes you hungry for more, that makes you see familiar things in new and special ways.
2. Use your voice. Plot, setting, character- all of those are important, but none of those are as important as your voice. The thing that makes your work yours, and no-one else’s. I find writers with a unique and stirring voice, like Aimee Bender and Joanna Walsh difficult to put down. They could take me anywhere and I would follow.
3. People say ‘write what you know’ a lot, but I’m more drawn to writing that is deeply felt. The most deeply felt fiction I’ve read in quite a while was by Maeve Kelly, whose short story collection, Orange Horses was released by Tramp Press in 2017 as part of their reclaimed voiced series. Kelly is masterful at imbuing her work with a sense of character, and place but it is the feelings that they inspire that linger. I’ve rarely encountered such a tender balance of empathy and frustration in a single collection.
4. Appeal to the senses. I’ve recently encountered a beautiful collection of short stories by Camilla Grudova called The Doll’s Alphabet, and the unique world she builds is one of scent and sight, of taste and touch. The imagery is troubling and exquisite. The strange, almost stop-motion feel of the world she builds and the heightened characters that inhabit it is something very different, but it is such an interesting place to visit.
5. Read your work aloud. Dublin has a vibrant and wonderful spoken word scene, with writers like Erin Fornoff and Colm Keegan writing really potent stuff. There’s a magic to hearing a writer you admire performing their work. But, performance aside, I find reading my work aloud as I edit, particularly with dialogue, helps me identify the clunky and unnecessary parts. Every writer has their own internal rhythm, a series of notes they want to hit in their work, and you can really identify what works and doesn’t when you speak your work aloud. Maybe not a good tip for those who work in public places.
6. Edit. Economy, and the power of economy of language is something that the sparse, poetic prose of Raymond Carver taught me. I encountered Raymond Carver for the first time in third year of college, and I can still remember the colour and texture of the couch I curled up on as I sank into Will You Please Be Quiet Please? for the first time. I tend towards poetic, sometimes overwrought language myself, and encountering minimalist writers like Carver remind me to examine my prose, and to ask every word why it needs to be there.
7. Kind eyes. If your story is ready to share with someone – the first person you share it with should not be a person you’re submitting your work to. Writers don’t start writing for the money, or the fame- and rejection is a huge part of the business. Making sure something is a as good as possible before you put it out into the world makes sense. My writer friends have proven an invaluable source of support and understanding over the years- and the power of someone else’s eyes on a thing you’ve made is not to be discounted. I’m particularly grateful to writers like Dave Rudden, Sarah Maria Griffin and Claire Hennessy for taking the time to examine and critique my work. Dave’s first short story collection, Twelve Angels Weeping will be out in October 2018 from BBC Children’s Books, and I cannot wait.
8. Don’t hate women. I shouldn’t have to say this. But plenty of writers do. I’d rather celebrate work I love than gripe about work that I don’t, but if your female characters are pretty things that teach men lessons about themselves, I kind of don’t care how good your writing is. You don’t like my gender so I won’t like your story. Same goes for racist or ableist tropes.
9. Don’t be afraid of re-telling. Writers like Emma Donoghue, Neil Gaiman, Kirsty Logan and Angela Carter have revisited myth, legend and fairy-tale in their work and found new ways to shape old stories. There’s a reason that myths, legends and folk tales endure, and every writer has that formative story that lives in their heart, that first showed them what fiction could be. If your inspiration is waning, maybe you could start with something old and make it yours.
10. Let your work matter. If your work is important to you, if writing feeds something in you it matters. And when something matters you make the time for it. We’re increasingly busy and it can be hard to make the time for the extra things, like secret ambitions, hopes or dreams. But art is important. It is nourishing. Even if right now the only one who is being nourished by it is you. Keep trying. Keep hoping. Keep writing. Best of luck.
Submissions are now open for the 2018 Red Line Book Festival ITT Short Story Competition – the deadline is 13th August 2018. Find out more here. The Red Line Book Festival runs from Oct 8th-14th 2018 – more info here.
