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There\u2019s no such thing as \u2018the<\/em> short story\u2019. A short story can be exactly what you want it to be. That\u2019s what\u2019s so exciting about this form. It\u2019s fiction at its most intense and concentrated, and it\u2019s a space for playing around and trying something new. Some creative writing advice lays down sets of rules that might be useful as guidelines if you\u2019re a complete beginner, but there are in fact no limits to what\u2019s possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n For me, the most important thing is language that sings on the page. I don\u2019t mean lots of fancy metaphors and \u2018poetic\u2019 imagery. A style that\u2019s simple and clear and speaks directly to the reader is often the most powerful. The stories in Malachi McIntosh\u2019s Parables, Nightmares and Fables <\/em>are like that. The real acid test is when you open a story or a collection at random. Any paragraph you choose should give you pleasure, without clumsy expressions or muddled sentences.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Voice and language are linked together. It\u2019s hard to define what you mean by \u2018voice\u2019. Stories are sometimes told through different voices, or the voice of the author mingles with that of different characters, as in Tessa Hadley\u2019s After the Funeral. <\/em>But there\u2019s a distinctive sensibility at work, and a feeling, as soon as you begin to read that yes, you\u2019re in capable hands. You\u2019re going to stay with this one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A good story could also not be anything other than a short story. It isn\u2019t just a slice of a novel.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n There\u2019s a lot of overlap these days between linked stories and novels, but like the stories in Daisy Johnson\u2019s Fen <\/em>they should stand alone. Jon McGregor experimented with all kinds of approaches in his collection This Isn\u2019t The Sort of Thing That Happens to Some One Like You, <\/em>including a story that is simultaneously a poem and a story including the maximum number of words beginning with \u2018v\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That book also includes dystopian fiction, which brings me to a point about genre. Science fiction, horror stories, fantasy \u2013 I love all of these. Jeremy Dyson\u2019s The Cranes That Build The Cranes <\/em>is as chilling as you might expect from his TV work. Lucy Wood\u2019s Diving Belles <\/em>uses the fantastic to subvert twee images of Cornwall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What Lucy Wood is doing is making you think about what life\u2019s really like for ordinary people living by the seaside. Other writers stories tell you what to think, and those are not for me. I\u2019m put off by characters who are obviously good or bad (long-suffering wife, brutal husband). I like ambiguity. I like to kept on my toes by characters who behave in a contradictory or unexpected way. A story might be competently written, but when the themes and the plot and the characters are neatly tied together from beginning to end there\u2019s nothing for my imagination to work with, and I\u2019m soon tired of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Something we don\u2019t talk about too often is humour. I don\u2019t necessarily mean laugh-out-loud, though Kevin Barry\u2019s stories definitely have that effect. What I mean is that a story without a trace of humour is lacking something. Lucy Caldwell is brilliant at adding that special slightness to stories such as \u2018All the People Were Mean and Bad\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The best stories have an emotional resonance that stays with you. Months or years later you think to yourself, \u2018what was that story, where\u2026\u2026..?\u2019 One that often comes back to me is Sarah Hall\u2019s \u2018She Murdered Mortal He\u2019, which is full of danger and risk in both the writing and the content.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Sarah Schofield, Convener of The Edge Hill Prize, tells us what she looks for in a short story and a short story collection:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n In a collection I want variety. I want a cake shop window, not a box of biscuits all made with the same dough and cutter. I want a smorgasbord, not a beige budget buffet. I want one pair of hands that are unafraid of trying new things and taking risks. I\u2019m not interested in perfection. What is perfect anyway? Imperfect is potent, exciting and deeply human.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I want imperfect variety. What is variety? It isn\u2019t relying on tricks or quirks. It is a curated selection of stories that each feel like an invitation; where the writer and I are invested together to look closely at something (something that may otherwise be overlooked). I don\u2019t want to look at the same thing over and over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I don\u2019t like stories that lecture me or tell me how I should think and feel about something\u2026 although the best stories may persuade me without me noticing \u2013 herein lies their tiny audaciousness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I want writers to get out of the way of their stories. Give me dots and let me do the work. Let me in. Let me play.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I want stories that linger. I want stories that are anthemic and stories that whisper seductively. I want stories that land like bombs where I remember every scene and moment before and after the explosion. And I also want stories where in a year\u2019s time I couldn\u2019t tell you exactly what happened, but I remember, very distinctly, how the story made me feel. I want stories that pinpoint a precise emotion that I recognise as one I have experienced but have never been able to name or articulate.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n I want characters I would like to be best friends with, and characters I would shove with my trolley in the checkout at Aldi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I want to share intimately with people that don\u2019t exist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I want stories that see the contemporary through the lens of past or future, and stories that see the past or future through the lens of now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I want stories that embarrass me and that make me cry or laugh in public. Stories that poke at tender parts of me that I didn\u2019t know were there. Stories that change my opinion on something I was certain about\u2026 I want stories that change my opinion on what it is I\u2019m looking for in a short story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n For examples of all the above, see the Edge Hill Prize winners and shortlists over the last 18 years.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Professor Ailsa Cox, Founder of The Edge Hill Prize, tells us what she looks for in a short story and a short story collection: There\u2019s no such thing as \u2018the short story\u2019. A short story can be exactly what you want it to be. That\u2019s what\u2019s so exciting about this form. It\u2019s fiction at its […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2146,"featured_media":0,"parent":6,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-111","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n\n
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