You might be wondering “What is flash fiction?” You wouldn’t be alone in wondering this.. Lots of people have no idea what is meant when they read or hear the term flash fiction. The simple answer is that it is a short, short story. There is quite a bit of debate, however, about the length that defines flash fiction. Some say it can be anywhere from six words to 1,500 words. Most people will tell you it’s a short story typically comprise of a few hundred words. Some places say they must be a complete story. Others groups say they can be just a snap shot or scene from a story. I tend to write snap shots. So now that you know what you’re getting yourself into, let me show you examples of my own flash fiction.
“The Parachuter” by Given Hoffman
(Originally written May 20, 2019)
I closed my eyes, covered my face with my arm, bent my knees, and hoped I didn’t die. I scrapped through pine branches, smelling the overwhelming scent of Christmas, which was totally not a bad trade off from burnt jet-fuel. But then one particularly sappy branch caught me across the forehead, leaving both a welt and a sticky mess in its wake.
That was about two seconds before my body folded like a jackknife around a tree limb, and I blacked out.
I dreamt of Christmas for fourteen hours before an Army Ranger found me hanging there like a gingerbread man in a Christmas tree and cut me down.
Writer’s Tip: For Starting
Just jump!
You know how when two paving stones are on the ground and you’re jumping between them it’s not intimidating to try to cover the distance between them, but somehow when it comes to jumping between them a hundred feet in the air it terrifies you? Sometimes I think this is how fiction writing feels, like it’s that hundred-feet-in-the-air jump. That is why short stories are so great. Because even if you mess it up, who cares?
Don’t wait to write until you have the whole story perfectly figured out. Just jump. Write a first sentence, maybe it’s just descriptive, maybe it’s something surprising, maybe it’s not that good, but you’ve started. Once it’s there, write the next line, then the next. Let the story take you where it’s going.
Then once you’ve got something on the paper, come back, understand it, measure it, test it, and see just how far you jumped and how high and whether you landed it right.
Because sometimes it’s that breathless, close-your-eyes-and-just-go-for-it jump that can launch the most amazing adventures in writing.
Writing Tip: Emotion Within Description
Movies create emotion through how they film, what they film, the backdrop they choose, and the music they select for each scenes. As writers, we create emotion through our word choices. How we describe something can set the mood just as thoroughly as the music in a suspense movie.
“An Unforgettable Swim” by Given Hoffman
(Originally written June 26, 2016)
My sister took off running across the beach.
Ditching the golf-cart, I slogged after her. Sand flowed into my sandals and ground between my toes. I ripped off my shoes and tried to catch up, but Susanna’s footprints disappeared into the tide. Blocking the blinding sun with my left hand and clenching my shoes, I squinted at her shiny wet outline. “Be careful,” I called.
Susanna washed into shore on her belly. “Come on, Hannah. Just dip your toes in. It’s not like that can kill you.”
I eyed the gleaming waves rolling one after another on the distant reef and felt my stomach roll with them. “I’m good, thanks.”
Susanna leapt up, grabbed my wrist, and pulled.
I stumbled forward and gasped as the cold tide swept around my ankles. It clawed the sand out from under my feet and pulled me downward. I wrenched backward, heart pounding. I screamed at Susanna, “Don’t ever do that again!”
Susanna bit her lip. “You really are still terrified, aren’t you?”
I tried to make it sound silly, but my chest was pounding so hard it hurt. “You try coming back to life with someone giving you mouth-to-mouth, and you’d think twice about swimming again too.”
Writer Tip: Utilizing The 5 Senses Brings Stories Alive
When we include touch, taste, sound, sight, and smell in our stories, they help to bring the setting alive. This story focuses on Touch, Sound, and Sight.
“A Delightful Gift” by Given Hoffman
(Originally written February 26, 2017)
I stretched out my fingers with their newly painted nails. The soft drifting substance touched my hand. A light wet snap followed. More of the spiderweb-fine liquid floated in the light of the setting sun, each a rainbow orb, wafting on nothing, then exploding. One moment there, hanging in the silent promise of foreverness, then gone in a quick burst. They showered my knees, and I played my fingers through the dazzling display of them. They were like dreams, beautiful and precious, but when touched gone in an instant, leaving behind only a sticky residue of their glassy flight through life. I blew softly and watched them winsomely spiral away, then spatter against my deck floorboards. Swallowing, I lowered my calloused hands, splotched in glistening soap, and turned my wheelchair around.
With her little lips pursed, Sidney, my young neighbor, stood on top of my deck table and blew more shimmering rainbows in my direction.
I smiled. “Thank you, for sharing your presents with me. I think my nails look quite nice and the bubbles were beautiful. But you best be getting home to your mother now.”
“Thanks for being my friend,” Sidney said jumping down.
“Thank you for being mine,” I said, wishing as I had a million times that my husband had also survived our car accident and that we had been able to have our own children. But if we had, I would not have met Sidney nor would I have known God’s grace so profoundly.
Writing Tip: Ask Good Questions
I have gotten teased by people throughout my life because I tend to ask a lot of questions, but being able to ask questions and probe through possibilities is actually a huge advantage when it comes to writing. Asking questions is how we as writers learn about everything from our characters, to our story, to figuring out plot holes, and to even discovering new and different angles to look at ordinary life. Who is my character? What defines them? What sort of personality do they have? What is their backstory? Who and what do they care about? Where might they live? Etc.
The story below is based upon a woman I actually saw sitting in a train station just as she is seen in the story below. She made me so curious.
“The Commuter” by Given Hoffman
(Originally written June 11, 2018)
Clive felt a whoosh of air mess his hair and flap his suit jacket as it fled the train below. Gripping his coffee, he tucked his briefcase under his arm and checked his watch. The gray steps of the escalator met the glossy white of the underground station’s floor, and Clive shifted into the swift stride of a daily commuter. His sister’s teasing words from the week before wrapped around him. “You always look so serious, marching about like that?” He slowed, breaking the bubble between himself and the commuters and tourists flooding by him. That’s when he noticed her shoes.
They were white dress shoes abandoned at the base of a granite slab, meanwhile her white skirt dangled toward the shoes from the top, where she sat with her face buried in her knees and her arms wrapped about her legs. Her hunched shoulders, streaked blond hair, and sock feet gave her a vulnerable appearance, yet clothed in white she reminded him of an angel.
He found himself pausing beside her, too curious to walk past. Who was she? Why was she here in the middle of the train station, like an abandoned child left on a doorstep? “Miss?”
Writing Tip: Show, Don’t Tell
When writing, ask yourself the question: What does this look like? What does it look like for a little boy to not want to leave his grandfather’s farm?
“A Boy and His Grandpa on the Farm” by Given Hoffman
(Originally Written June 8, 2017)
(First I’m going to give you an example of what this story would look like as a “telling” version, Then I’m going to let you read the original version I wrote, which is a “showing” version.
Telling: A little boy got to stay a few days on his grandfather’s farm. His grandfather was happy he was there. The boy was from the city and never went outside, but at his grandfather’s farm he got to wear overalls and run around barefoot. They had lots of fun together. The grandfather even let the little boy ride the cows. But then the little boy’s mom came to get him. He didn’t want to go with her. He wanted to stay. His grandfather knew he wanted to stay. The little boy got sad and so did the grandfather.
Showing: Shovel in hand, Hank glance over his shoulder at his four-year-old grandson standing at the barbed wire cattle fence. The little boy pointed at the grazing livestock. White skin stuck out all sides of the little guy’s brand new overalls. “Sorry, little man. We can’t ride cows today. Your mom’s probably already waiting.”
Shaggy brown hair fell across the little boy’s suddenly turbulent gaze.
Hank sighed and glanced at the white farm house with the three vehicles parked out front. He motioned. “Come on, buddy.”
Dan the yellow barn tabby flopped into the course grass a couple feet from Jordan. The little boy gripped the fence and shook his head.
Hank planted his shovel in the ground and headed toward Jorden. The boy’s lips pressed together, and his fingers turned white on the fence. Stopped in his tracks, Hank felt his chest tighten. Swallowing, he knelt in the grass in his mud-smeared jeans and motioned. “Come here, buddy.”
Lower lip trembling, Jorden let go of the fence and ran into his arms. “Let me stay, Gran-pa. Let me stay.”
Choking back tears, Hank scooped him up, rough hands shaking. “I wish I could, Jorden. I wish I could.”
Writing Tip: Choose Your Point of View Wisely
Every point of view (POV) brings a certain amount of information to the story. What information a certain character holds might be a reason to use them as the POV or it might be a reason to not use them as your POV.
“The Known Stranger” by Given Hoffman
(Originally written June 12, 2017)
Switchbacks. Sharp drops. Breathtaking views. The Blue Ridge Mountains offered many things to many people, but he wasn’t like most people. He hadn’t come for the adrenaline rush of the road’s insane corners and rip-roaring hills. Rather, his motorcycle was loaded heavy with three totes. His black and white armored jacket slimmed his solid frame and hid a nine millimeter Glock holstered to his lower back, and his helmet’s visor was heavily tinted, not the choice of a sightseer.
Parked on one of the pull-offs, he consumed his lunch quickly, keeping his back to any tourists pausing to marvel over the valley’s visage spread below like waves. He did not take in the tranquility. Six other bikers pulled in, these the adrenaline junkies of the mountains, their bikes the style you could lay low on the corners. They joked as they swung off and jumbled themselves together. One of them called, “Hey, will you take a picture for us?”
The younger man didn’t answer. He simply closed his visor and swung onto his bike. He was gone in a second, barely noticed, completely misunderstood, and never appreciated. Yet this young motorcyclist, three days later, would change the fate of two nations.
Writers Tip: Write Natural Yet Unique Dialogue
Dialogue can be just as intriguing as the rest of the story, but it needs to fit the character and stick to the focus of the story. Avoid what is called “on the nose” dialogue where it’s so normal it’s annoying to read, painfully slow, or unnecessary to the story.
“The Suit of Armor” by Given Hoffman (Excerpt of the dialogue)
(Originally written October 14, 2017)
“Don’t let him touch that!” snapped Douglas from across the room, before bursting into a fit of coughing.
Amber glanced to where her six-year-old stared at a rusty suit of armor near a medieval fireplace. “Uncle, he’s not going to hurt it.” The old man had enough dusty junk to fill a museum.
“I’m not worried about him hurting it.”
Amber sighed. “Jordan, come play on your iPad, ok?” She turned back to Douglas. “Uncle, to be honest, I just don’t think I’m a good fit to inherit thi—”
“I mean it, Amber, get him away from it. I tell you, it’s not normal.”
She frowned. “He’s just curious, Uncle.”
“I don’t mean him, Amber. I mean it! It takes people places.”
Douglas was more senile than she thought. Her son reach out to touch the knight’s armored hand, and she grabbed for his shoulder.
In a flash, all the rusted junk, including the suit of armor, was gone, and instead, a fire burned in the fire place.
Amber stiffened, and Jordan looked up at her wide-eyed. “Mommy?”
She tightened her hold. “It’s okay, honey. Uncle Douglas?” She turned.
Instead of her uncle, a partially armored knight stood staring at them, his eyes as wide as her son’s.
Writing Tip: Details Add Believability and Contrast Can Define Change
The littlest things can add powerful weight to your story and be a touchpoint for the reader. Contrast of what was versus what is now or what is versus what could be are also a great tool for revealing just enough mystery to keep your reader engaged.
“The Breach” by Given Hoffman
(Originally written March 22, 2018)
I had discovered a breach in F25’s security the day before, yet here I was on my day off sitting at home in my sunny kitchen trying to act normal. I set my favorite flowered tea cup down and opened the romance novel I had started three years ago before being hired by Forestaytria Industries. I scanned the pages, but my mind wouldn’t read the words. Rather I was aware of two things, the strong scent of the lilacs I had cut that morning and the flash drive burning a hole in my pocket. I had to decide what to do with the information.
Destroy it or keep it was the question. First, though, I needed Bryce’s help to determine how far the breach went, but he wouldn’t arrive till tomorrow. I had just started the page for the fourth time when I heard a crash, the bang of my house door, and the sound of boots coming down the hall toward me. My decisions made, I yanked the flash-drive from my pocket and pitched it into my tea cup with a splash. Two seconds later I was on my face, my hands were tied behind my back, and a hood was dragged over my head.
Writing Tip: Paralleling Imagery
When you parallel imagery with something else in life, it can add a lot to your descriptions. It also works on behalf of characterization, but be careful that your paralleled imagery is something your POV character would actually know and think about during such a moment.
“The Bridge” by Given Hoffman
(Originally written August 1, 2018)
From where I stood at the beginning of the hanging bridge, it reminded me of those long metal slides I’m pretty sure are now banned from playgrounds. You know, the ones that go straight out in front of you for forever and at age four seem as tall as Mt. Everest. Yeah, the ones they’ve replaced with splinter free, bright plastic tubes that curve so that they don’t feel as long or as high. Granted the footbridge’s trajectory wasn’t steep, but then again all I had to do was look over its side and I was four again. The moment I set foot on it, too, I realize it was worse than a slide. Slides didn’t shake. I gripped the bridge’s cables like a cat on a tree limb.
Kyle ducked under my arm and ran out in front of me. “Come on, Shari, its not that bad.” The bridge beneath my feet shifted from side to side. I felt my equilibrium shift with it. “You know what, I think I’m going to stay here.”
Kyle frowned back at me. “It’s perfectly safe.”
I backed up. “Great, have fun.”