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Welcome to this revised edition. I looked back on this work after more than seven years and wanted to freshen it up. I’ve edited and revised some stories, deleted others, and added about a dozen new stories with twist endings. A twist ending in 100 words? Yes, it’s part of the challenge. As I wrote in the introduction to the previous edition, the challenge to tell a complete story in exactly 100 words is the lure of this genre. I emphasize the word complete, but more about that later.
Just 100 words?
Sure. Extremely short, tiny, miniscule bits of fiction are not unusual today. Books and a broad variety of online literary magazines and some print magazines feature short-shorts. Actually short-shorts is not an appropriate description, as it often refers to short stories of a few pages or more, not a few paragraphs or a few sentences. Flash fiction seems to be the most commonly used name for these snippets of creative writing, although some online magazines refer to micro fiction, nano fiction, sudden fiction, or quick fiction.
As to the best length for flash fiction, there seems to be little agreement. Even though the 100-word limit is common, a variety of print and online magazines and published anthologies restrict flash fiction stories to 1,000, 2,500, and even 5,000 words. Compared to a 100-word tale, the longer stories could hardly be read in a flash. Wikipedia does little to establish a common length saying, “flash fiction is a fictional work of extreme brevity.”
Journals such as 100 Word Story and 101 Words need no explanation. Some other online publications are looking for what Wikipedia calls twitterature, that is stories of 280 characters or less. And one journal still sticks to the previous Twitter limit and publishes stories of 140 characters. Everyday Fiction sets the limit at 1,000 words, but encourages writers who can tell a story in 50.
The New Yorker recently started publishing flash fiction, but the stories are briefest of the brief: one or two sentences. Although they have run stories by such renown writers and Joyce Carol Oats and Lydia Davis, well known for her flash stories, these literary offerings are more thoughts or observations, rather than complete pieces of fiction. Writers and editors who try to define or explain flash fiction often cite a six-word story reputedly written by Ernest Hemingway: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”
Do you count your words?
Yes. Each story contains exactly 100 words. The titles are not included in the word count, although in many examples the titles help create the setting or establish expectations. The words in most of the stories were counted using MS Word’s word-count function. It’s effective but not infallible. And you have to know the rules. For example, all hyphenated words are counted as one word. That seems fair. Numerals, even those separated by commas, are counted as one word, no matter how long. Ditto for amounts of money using a dollar sign. The word-count function on my version of Word has at least one glaring fault. A sentence that ends with a dash and quotation mark earns an extra word: “But Bill, do you really think—” This bit of interrupted dialog contains six words, but my computer thinks it’s seven, thus manual counting is often necessary.
Where did this come from?
Some time ago, a friend of mine told me his writing group was working on an exercise in which they had to tell a story in just 100 words. I was intrigued. I’d never heard of a 100-word short story. I tried it. I tried it again. After writing a few stories, I was hooked.
Many flash fiction writers and short story writers focus on creating a mood, demonstrating an emotion, or delving into the psyche of a character rather than telling a complete story. You could call these stories vignettes, and I enjoy them, but I often long for a conclusion. Endings are what you will find here. While all these stories don’t necessarily have a beginning, middle, and end, most have a character, a challenging situation, and a resolution. I learned to write in journalism school and while working at newspapers. My training showed me how summarize a story in a lead paragraph or two.
Eventually these literary hors d’oeuvres whetted my appetite for something more substantial. I loved doing short-short mysteries and wondered if I could do longer versions. Thus, I ventured into novel writing, something I’d had in the back of my mind since I was a beginning reporter. After toiling for a few years I found a publisher for my first novel. More books in my Nostalgia City mystery series followed. The discipline of writing flash fiction helped make my longer work better. Every word should count.
What kind of stories are here?
Slightly more than half the stories have to do with detective work, crime, or general law enforcement. Should the bad guy get away with it? Can the police solve a mystery in only 100 words? Some of the stories answer the first question affirmatively, others show the authorities prevailing.
In addition, you’ll find speculative fiction or fantasy, that is, tales that build to an ending but not necessarily one without lingering, improbable questions. The balance of the book contains humor, straight drama, and love stories.
—MSB