Super Duper Flash Writing Contest Winning Tips

I’m pretty stoked. Last month I entered 2 flash fiction contests and won both of them. In fact, I've won 3 out of the 5 flash fiction contests I've ever entered (the KillerCon Creative Fiction Contest in 2012, and the Vegas Valley Book Fest Flash Fiction Contest in 2010 and 2012).

(self aggrandizement alert!)

If you don’t know, flash fiction is a short short story, usually under 1000 words in length, sometimes under 500. They are stories that get in, do their story magic, and get out. They even have micro fiction which is roughly around tweet size.

 

(my own example):

 

She watched the dinner guests leave. They never asked where Greg was and she of course didn’t show them the blood and mess in the kitchen.

So naturally Flash Fiction Contests are when a group of caffeine-hazed writers are given a prompt and a short amount of time (20 minutes at KillerCon, 90 minutes at Vegas Valley Book Fest). When the buzzer goes off, you stop writing, just like a test, and then you are at the mercy of the judges.

But let’s get back to me winning. (I need to start that #arrogant twitter hashtag Mercedes[[[]]] and I joke about…)

I thought to myself, “Self,” I says, “You seem to be awesome at these things. Do you have any super-duper tips for winning?”

Well, nothing super-duper. In truth, I’d say 60% of winning at flash fiction is how far you can take your imagination and writing chops. And 20% is being able to perform under deadline. Perform coherently, I might add.

Almost all of that falls under the same writing advice you can find anywhere. (No really, most other people give way more useful writing advice than me, because I don’t really know how I do it…)

But that last little 10% leaves room for a few handy tips and tricks. Nothing fancy, mind you, but this is how I do it and maybe it will work for you. (Or at least free you up to just charge blindly ahead!)

Tip #1: Write the most compelling first line you can think of, right off the top of your head. Then come up with the story behind it.

Don’t construct an elaborate plot. Don’t try to focus on the theme, because by simply hearing it and stewing on it while waiting for someone to shout “Go” the theme is already part of your consciousness.

Make that first line sing. Don't worry about where the story will go. Just write something that can't be ignored.

Mine was "The hardest part was not killing the kids, but cutting them up to fit in the furnace."

Where it came from, I don't know, but it had to be answered. I had to find out what happened next, thus I had to write it.

Tip #2: Don’t cheat and show up at the contest with a full plot or story you already wrote in your head, or worse, already wrote which you will try to recreate.

Don't do this.

It not only smells like cheating but it can backfire on you. Particularly with themes and/or key words or phrases you must use in the story. The elaborate western romance you cooked up will get hosed when the key phrase they give you is "The spaceship docked on the dark side of the moon." Hosed!

(Unless you’re Joss Whedon, in which case, carry on.)

Speaking of key words and phrases, "How do you deal with any key words, or phrases they make you put into the story?" (you ask) “How do you place a word like ‘zither’ and ‘mongoose’ in a space-cowboy drama?” (you ask so many questions)

Tip #3: Love words.

 

Love words,  love how words sound, love language so deeply that you don’t just cram in obtrusive words like ‘chartreuse’ with a wink at the audience. Actually use them.

I read the dictionary for fun. I have this giant unabridged one that I like to turn to random pages (it also makes a great kid booster seat!) Words are your fundamental tools, even the awkward words.

What if you don’t know the meaning of the word? Ask. You might feel like a goober asking what a zither is, but you'll feel like a Hefty-bag of shame when you write it into your steamy romance mistakenly thinking it means a clothes fastening device.

Tip #4 Economy of words.

The opposite of this blog post.

 

I am very grateful to the estimable judges of the Vegas Valley Book Festival, and the KillerCon Creative Fiction Contest: Jack Ketchum and Grammar Girl Mignon Fogarty, Don D'Auria from Samhain Publishing, and Roy Robbins from Bad Moon Books.

I won... booze?

Take the I out of 1st person

Ok, firstly, there is nothing wrong with novels or stories written in 1^st person.

But recently I read a book in 1^st person that made me feel the whole time as if the action was in slow-motion as I waited for the main character to narrate what was happening.

The cool premise of the book was killed by removing me from the immediacy of the action through an effect I oh-so-recently called “telescoping”*. (I’m sure some literary professor type knows the real word for it, but I stick to “telescoping”)

* In fact we had a rescue from Hollan, who is said literary professor type, who corrected my totally subjective term "telescoping". The correct term is FILTERING folks, filtering. This post has been edited to remove my egregious misuse of astronomical terminology.

Action should be IN YOUR FACE!

Filtering is when the action happening RIGHT NOW is filtered through the narrator needlessly distancing me, the reader, from the action. (Author intrusion also can fall into the realm of filtering)

Sure sometimes you may deliberately want distance in 1^st person. It can lend a certain cold detachment to certain scenes, or even allow the character to show their bias or coloration of events.

But regardless whether it’s 1^st person, 3^rd person close, or even 3^rd person omniscient, I personally want to feel like the events are happing right here, right now. Not over there to some guy who keeps getting in the way of the narrative. (There’s nothing worse than a narrator who gets in the way of the actual narration!)

Here is my totally heavy-handed and off the top of my head example of filtering.

Filtered 1st person	Immediate 1st person
As I ran down Ventura Boulevard, I could tell that things had gone from bad to worse. I noticed that my stitches had come undone and felt the blood run down my back. I could hear guns roaring all around me and when I looked back I saw the zombies at the far end of the street still coming. Why’d the world have to end in zombies? I thought to myself. I kept running.	As I ran down Ventura Boulevard, things went from bad to worse. My stitches came undone and the blood ran down my back. Guns were roaring all around me yet the zombies far down at the east end of the street kept coming. Why’d the world have to end in zombies? I kept running.

When an author is filtering in 1^st person, the narrator creates distance by “feeling, or noticing, or perceiving that the action is happening” instead of the action just happening.

Am I right here, or am I crazy-cakes?

Plotter meets Pantser

We all know the drill, someone yells "Plotter versus Pantser, fight!" and people pick sides while many scratch their heads and say "but I do both..."

This picture has nothing to do with the post
but I thought you'd like it.

Few things in life are cut and dry. The battle lines between someone who plots out their story before writing a sentence and those who write by the seat of their pants (watching as a plot magically takes shape in the mess) are not always clear.

You hear people dismiss one or the other: "Oh, pantsers always have leaky plots" or "Plotters overthink and their writing is stiff." blah blah blah. But I say use what works.

Within my wonderful critique group, The Illiterati, the gamut is run. From our Pantser extraordinaire Mercedes M. Yardley to Mr. Plotter himself Ryan Bridger.
However, since we joined forces a few years back during the great wombat confluence, we've each learned (stolen) techniques and methods from one another.

I caught Mercedes plotting recently. Likewise Ryan decided to write a novel by the seat of his pants, just to try it.

I say: CHARGE! Because if there's one thing that is true about writing, you've got to try out different things to keep the creative mojo flowing.

Are you a pantser who keeps getting stuck a third of the way into your novel? Try plotting.
Are you a plotter who loses all your motivation to write what you just plotted out? Try setting forth a few "pole position" scenes and then write by the seat of your pants.

As for me, I tend to write by the seat of my pants once I have a vision of "the big climax". Usually about 30k words in I find that I need to plot out some elements, but I always have that "big climax" firmly stuck in my head as the destination.

But I certainly am not opposed to trying out different methods.

What about you cats? Where do you fall on the sliding scale of Pantser Plotter?