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diff --git a/old/20526.txt b/old/20526.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a2bf9f4 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/20526.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6446 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Short Story Writing, by Charles Raymond Barrett + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Short Story Writing + A Practical Treatise on the Art of The Short Story + +Author: Charles Raymond Barrett + +Release Date: February 6, 2007 [EBook #20526] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHORT STORY WRITING *** + + + + +Produced by Peter Vachuska, Chuck Greif, Jacqueline Jeremy +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +SHORT STORY WRITING + + +A Practical Treatise on the Art of the Short Story + + +By Charles Raymond Barrett, Ph. B. + +[Illustration] + +(_FOURTH THOUSAND_) + + +New York: The Baker and Taylor Co. +33-37 E. 17th Street, Union Square North + + +Copyrighted, 1898, by Charles Raymond Barrett +Copyrighted, 1900, by Charles Raymond Barrett + + + + +TABLE OF CONTENTS + + + PREFACE + + INTRODUCTION + + I + THE SHORT STORY + + II + SHORT STORIES CLASSIFIED + + III + THE PLOT + + IV + TITLES GOOD AND BAD + + V + THE USE OF FACTS + + VI + THE CHARACTERS + + VII + METHODS OF NARRATION + + VIII + THE BEGINNING + + IX + THE STORY PROPER + + X + CLIMAX AND CONCLUSION + + XI + THE STYLE + + XII + THE LABOR OF AUTHORSHIP + + XIII + THE QUEST OF A MARKET + + APPENDIX + "THE AMBITIOUS GUEST" + + + + +PREFACE + + +This book is an attempt to put into definite form the principles +observed by the masters of the short story in the practice of their art. +It is the result of a careful study of their work, of some indifferent +attempts to imitate them, and of the critical examination of several +thousands of short stories written by amateurs. It is designed to be of +practical assistance to the novice in short story writing, from the +moment the tale is dimly conceived until it is completed and ready for +the editor's judgment. + +The rules and principles here presented embody not what I conceive to be +right, but what the great masters of the short story have thought to be +right, and what they have proved to be at least successful. I speak only +as a delver into the secrets of other men; and if I seem arrogant, it is +due to the influence of the company I keep. My deductions are made not +only from the artifices and triumphs of the successful, but from the +struggles and failures of the unfortunate as well; and I have endeavored +to make clear both the philosophy and the application of all the +principles so deduced. Though in theory these rules are obligatory on +all who essay the short story, they are frequently and knowingly evaded +or violated by the masters of the art, whose genius is great enough to +excuse their disregard of the conventions, or whose skill is sufficient +to smooth over their technical lapses; but for the novice the only safe +course is a careful observance of all conventions. + +To the aspiring writer this book may seem to be merely a catalogue of +"Don'ts", the gist of which is, "Don't write"; but that is to misread +me. Short story writing is not easy, and I cannot make it so, even if I +would; but it is far from my purpose to discourage any person who feels +the Heaven-sent call to write, and who has the will and ability to +respond to it. But that call is but a summons to labor--and to labor the +severest and most persistent. To one who comes to it but half-heartedly, +illy prepared, shirking its requirements, I can predict certain failure; +but to the earnest, serious, conscientious worker, I would say a word of +hope. The promotion from the rank of amateur to the dignity of +authorship may be long in coming, but it will come at last. Fame, like +all else that this world has to give, depends largely upon downright +hard work; and he who has the courage to strive in the face of +disappointments will achieve success in the end. + +Throughout this book I have endeavored to give my statements +definiteness by the employment of numerous examples, both good +and bad. I have made no attempt to present an exhaustive analysis +of the technique of individuals or of schools, but have chosen my +illustrations with a single view to their aptness; I have, however, +for the convenience of reference, taken these paradigms chiefly +from the published collections of stories by the older and better +known writers. My "awful examples" are verbatim excerpts from +manuscripts which have passed through my hands; their authorship +is concealed for obvious reasons. + +To the best of my knowledge there is no book extant which treats +solely of the technique of the short story. The nearest approach +to it is "How to Write Fiction," an anonymous work published by +Bellaires & Co., London; but to my mind that is too slight, too +theoretical, and too enamored of the artificial French school to be +of practical value to the amateur. Far better, as working guides, are +the frequent fragmentary articles on the short story, many of them by +successful short story writers, published in current periodicals, to +which I am considerably indebted. But my greatest obligation is to a +course in "The Art of the Short Story"--the first university course +ever offered in that subject--conducted at the University of Chicago +in 1896 by Dr. E. H. Lewis. + +C. R. B. + +CHICAGO, August 1, 1900. + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +The short story was first recognized as a distinct class of +literature in 1842, when Poe's criticism of Hawthorne[1] called +attention to the new form of fiction. Short story writing had, +however, been practiced for many years before that: perhaps the +narratives of Homer and the tales of the first books of the Bible +may be considered as the first examples; certainly the short story +is closely associated in its early history with narrative poems, +allegorical tales, and mouth-to-mouth traditions, and it can be +traced surely to the _fabliaux_ of the thirteenth century. Later +writers aided in its development: Mallory's "Morte D'Arthur" and +Caxton's popularization of old romances marked a further progress; +and some of the work of Defoe and Addison would almost stand the +modern tests. But the short story as we know it to-day is a product +of the nineteenth century; and it owes its position in literature, if +not its very existence, to the work of Irving, Hawthorne, and Poe. +They first recognized its possibilities and employed it seriously; +and the art and genius which they put into their tales assured the +short story a permanent place in literature. They differed in subject +matter and style, but they recognized the same requirements and +limitations; and the canons which they established then obtain +to-day. + +The modern short story is essentially an American product; and our +masters of its art have established precedents for literary workers +of the old world. In England, Stevenson, Kipling and Haggard are +considered the originators of the modern short story; and Zola, +de Maupassant, Daudet and Paul Marguerite in France, Tolstoi in +Russia, and other famous foreign authors have their claims for +consideration; but all of them, admittedly or not, are but disciples +of the earlier American trinity. This book will confine itself to +the English-American short story. + +To-day the short story is so popular that we seem to be in a new +literary epoch--the epoch of the short story--and there is no apparent +cause to expect an early diminution in the demand for such literature; +so that to the young writer the short story offers the best opportunity +to prove his mettle. Then, too, it has the additional value of being an +excellent school for the novelist. The short story and the novel have +many radical differences; but in material, treatment and aim they are +much the same, and the same general training is necessary for both. All +short story writers do not become great novelists, nor have all +novelists been short story tellers; but it is a fact that the majority +of the present day novelists served their 'prenticeship in the ranks of +the short story writers. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: "Hawthorne's 'Tales,'" by Edgar Allan Poe. _Graham's +Magazine_, May, 1842.] + + + + +SHORT STORY WRITING + + +I + +THE SHORT STORY + + +There is no modern literary form which is as little understood as is the +short story. The term short story is applied to every piece of prose +writing of 30,000 words or less, without regard to its matter, aim, or +handling; but our purpose demands a definition of some accuracy. + +"In the first place, then, what is, and what is _not_, a short story? +Many things a short story may be. It may be an episode, like Miss Ella +Hepworth Dixon's or like Miss Bertha Thomas'; a fairy tale, like Miss +Evelyn Sharp's; the presentation of a single character with the stage to +himself (Mr. George Gissing); a tale of the uncanny (Mr. Rudyard +Kipling); a dialogue comedy (Mr. Pett Ridge); a panorama of selected +landscape, a vision of the sordid street, a record of heroism, a remote +tradition or some old belief vitalized by its bearing on our lives +to-day, an analysis of an obscure calling, a glimpse at a forgotten +quarter ... but one thing it can never be--it can never be 'a novel in a +nutshell'."[2] + +"A short story ... must lead up to something. It should have for its +structure a plot, a bit of life, an incident such as you would find in a +brief newspaper paragraph.... He (Richard Harding Davis) takes the +substance of just such a paragraph, and, with that for the meat of his +story, weaves around it details, descriptions and dialogue, until a +complete story is the result. Now, a story is something more than +incidents and descriptions. It is a definite thing. It progresses +constantly. It arrives somewhere. It must enforce some idea (no matter +what). It must be such a reality that a man who read it would carry away +a definite impression."[3] + +It is evident, then, that the term short story is properly used only +when it means a short prose narrative, which presents artistically a bit +of real life; the primary object of which is to amuse, though it may +also depict a character, plead a cause, or point a moral; this amusement +is neither of that aesthetic order which we derive from poetry, nor of +that cheap sort which we gain from a broad burlesque: it is the simple +yet intellectual pleasure derived from listening to a well told +narrative. + +The first requisite of a short story is that the writer have a story to +tell--that is, a plot. He may present pretty scenes and word pictures if +he will, but he must vivify and humanize them by the introduction of +certain characters, patterned after the people of real life; and these +characters must move and act and live. The presentation of "still life" +pure and simple is not in the province of the short story. + +The question of length is but relative; in general a short story should +not exceed 10,000 words, and it could hardly contain less than 1,000; +while from 3,000 to 5,000 is the most usual length. Yet Hawthorne's "The +Gentle Boy" contains 12,000 words; Poe's "The Gold Bug," 13,000; and +perhaps the majority of James' exceed the maximum, while "The Lesson of +the Master" requires 25,000, and "The Aspern Papers" 32,000. Indeed, the +length of any story is determined, not so much by some arbitrary word +limit, as by the theme with which it deals. Every plot requires a +certain number of words for its proper elaboration, and neither more nor +less will do. Just what the limit for any particular story may be, the +writer must decide for himself. "It seems to me that a short story +writer should act, metaphorically, like this--he should put his idea for +a story into one cup of a pair of balances, then into the other he +should deal out his words; five hundred; a thousand; two thousand; three +thousand; as the case may be--and when the number of words thus paid in +causes the beam to rise, on which his idea hangs, then is his story +finished. If he puts in a word more or less, he is doing false work."[4] + +The short story does not need the love element that is generally +considered necessary to the novel, and many short stories disregard it +altogether. Love usually requires time and moods and varying scenes for +its normal development, so that it is difficult to treat it properly +within the limits of the short story; and then only when some particular +phase or scene admits of isolation. Then, too, many short stories are +merely accounts of strange adventures, wonderful discoveries or +inventions, and queer occurrences of all sorts--themes which amuse us +from their mere oddity; or they are verbal photographs of life, which +are interesting from their views of psychological and sociological +problems; and none of them requires love as the chief motive. Ingenuity +and originality, the principal constituents of such tales, are the story +teller's great virtues; on them he bases his hopes. Therefore, he must +have strong individuality, and the power of forcing his readers to view +life through his eyes, without perceiving him. + +Also, and as if to compensate for the lack of the love interest, the +short story has a "touch of fantasy" which gives it a distinctive charm. +This quality is the hint of--not necessarily the supernatural, but +rather the weird; it is a recognition and a vague presentation of the +many strong influences that are not explainable by our philosophy of +life. It is the intrusion into our matter-of-fact lives of the uncanny +element, which the novice so grossly misuses in his tales of premonitory +dreams and visions, and of most unghostly ghosts. "It is not enough to +catch a ghost white-handed and to hale him into the full glare of the +electric light. A brutal misuse of the supernatural is perhaps the very +lowest degradation of the art of fiction. But 'to mingle the marvellous +rather as a slight, delicate, and evanescent flavor than as any actual +portion of the substance,' to quote from the preface to the 'House of +the Seven Gables,' this is, or should be, the aim of the writer of +short-stories whenever his feet leave the firm ground of fact as he +strays in the unsubstantial realm of fantasy. In no one's writings is +this better exemplified than in Hawthorne's; not even in Poe's. There is +a propriety in Hawthorne's fantasy to which Poe could not attain. +Hawthorne's effects are moral where Poe's are merely physical. The +situation and its logical development and the effects to be got out of +it are all Poe thinks of. In Hawthorne the situation, however strange +and weird, is only the outward and visible sign of an inward and +spiritual struggle. Ethical consequences are always worrying Hawthorne's +soul; but Poe did not know there were any ethics."[5] + +The short story usually treats of the lighter and brighter side +of life. It is seldom in deadly earnest; it tends somewhat to +superficiality; and it prefers cleverness to profundity, in both +conception and treatment. Naturally, then, comedy rather than tragedy +is its usual sphere; and though the tale may end in gloom, it more +frequently suggests a possible tragedy in order to heighten the +effect of the happy denouement. For similar reasons the short story +avoids the didactic tone, either presenting its lesson in clever +disguise, or limiting its moral efforts to providing innocent +amusement for an idle hour. + +In the strife between realism and romanticism the short story adopts +the middle course, taking advantage of the better phases of both, but +siding with neither; for every life is subject to both influences, +often at the same time, and the short story aspires to present life +as it is. "Without true realism and genuine romanticism--actuality +and ideals--good work was never done, nor did any writer ever rise to +be an author."[6] "No worthy work of fiction may properly be labelled +romantic, realistic or symbolic, since every great work of art +contains all these in some proportion. Love and fighting are not +necessarily romance; nor are soup-kitchens and divorce courts +necessarily realism.... Malice, futility and ugliness--the dreadful +monotony of existence--are not necessarily real life; nor the tales +of summer love and marriage ceremonies, successful fightings, or +sacrifice and chivalry necessarily romance."[7] + +In its technique a short story demands the utmost care; it lacks the +bulk of the novel, which hides minor defects. It must have a definite +form, which shall be compact, and which shall have its parts properly +proportioned and related; and it must be wrought out in a workmanlike +manner. It requires extreme care from its conception to its completion, +when it must stand forth a perfect work of art; and yet it must reveal +no signs of the worker's tools, or of the pains by which it was +achieved. + +From what has been said it is evident that the short story is +artificial, and to a considerable degree unnatural. It could hardly +be otherwise, for it takes out of our complex lives a single person +or a single incident and treats that as if it were complete in +itself. Such isolation is not known to nature: There all things work +together, and every man influences all about him and is influenced +by them. Yet this separation and exclusion are required by the +conventions of the short story; and after all, there is always the +feeling, if the characters are well handled, that they have been +living and will continue to live, though we have chanced to come in +contact with them for only a short time. + +It is this isolation, this magnifying of one character or incident, +that constitutes the chief difference between the novel and the short +story.[8] In the novel we have a reproduction of a certain period of +real life: all the characters are there, with their complex lives and +their varying emotions; there are varied scenes, each one the stage +of some particular incident or semi-climax which carries the action +on to the final chapter; and there are persons and scenes and +conversations which have no reason for being there, except that just +such trivial things are parts of life. With the short story it is +very different: that permits of but one scene and incident, one or +two real characters, with one predominant emotion: all else is a +detriment to the interest and success of the story. A book may be +called a novel even if it is composed of a series of incidents, each +complete in itself, which are bound together by a slender thread of +common characters; but a story cannot properly be called a short one +unless it has simplicity of plot, singleness of character and climax, +and freedom from extraneous matter. "In a short story the starting +point is an idea, a definite notion, an incident, a surprising +discovery; and this must have a definite significance, a bearing on +our view of life; also it must be applied to the development of one +life course, one character. The novel, on the other hand, starts with +a conception of character, a man, a woman, a human heart, which under +certain circumstances works out a definite result, makes a world.... +Lastly it develops a group of characters, who together make a +complete community, instead of tracing the life course of one."[9] + +To prove that these various requirements are recognized and observed by +masters of the art, I would ask you to consider the following list, +which _The Critic_ selected from nearly five hundred submitted in +competition for a prize which it offered for a list of the best twelve +American short stories: + + "The Man Without a Country," Edward Everett Hale. + + "The Luck of Roaring Camp," Bret Harte. + + "The Great Stone Face," Nathaniel Hawthorne. + + "The Snow Image," Nathaniel Hawthorne. + + "The Gold Bug," Edgar Allan Poe. + + "The Murders in the Rue Morgue," Edgar Allan Poe. + + "The Lady, or the Tiger?" Frank R. Stockton. + + "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow," Washington Irving. + + "Rip Van Winkle," Washington Irving. + + "Marse Chan," Thomas Nelson Page. + + "Marjorie Daw," Thomas Bailey Aldrich. + + "The Revolt of Mother," Mary E. Wilkins.[10] + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 2: "The Short Story," by Frederick Wedmore. _Nineteenth +Century_, Mar., '98.] + +[Footnote 3: "How to Write Short Stories." An interview with F. +Hopkinson Smith in the Boston _Herald._ _Current Literature._ June, '96.] + +[Footnote 4: Robert Barr in "How to Write a Short Story; A Symposium." +_The Bookman._ Mar., '97.] + +[Footnote 5: "The Philosophy of the Short-story," by Brander Matthews. +_Lippincott's._ Oct, '85.] + +[Footnote 6: "Magazine Fiction and How Not to Write It," by Frederick M. +Bird. _Lippincott's._ Nov., '94.] + +[Footnote 7: "The Art of Fiction," by Gilbert Parker. _The Critic,_ +Dec.,'98.] + +[Footnote 8: In many respects the art of the short story and the novel +are so closely allied that I have been able to reenforce my observations +with magazine articles which were meant to apply primarily to the +novel.--THE AUTHOR.] + +[Footnote 9: "How to Write Fiction." Published anonymously by Bellaires +& Co., London. Part I, Chapter I.] + +[Footnote 10: "The Best Twelve American Stories." _The Critic._ Apr. 10, +'97.] + + + + +II + +SHORT STORIES CLASSIFIED + + +The treatment demanded by any particular story depends more upon its +class than upon the tale itself; a story which recounts an actual +occurrence is much less exacting than one which attempts to depict +manners; and, in general, the more the writer relies on his art, the +more difficult is his task. It is therefore both possible and profitable +to separate short stories into definite groups and to consider them +collectively rather than as units. This classification is based chiefly +upon the necessity of a plot, the purpose or aim of the narrative, and +the skill and care required for its successful treatment. It is crude +and arbitrary from a literary standpoint, for a good short story is +capable of being listed under several different classes, but it serves +our practical purpose. Each story is placed according to its dominant +class; and the classes are arranged progressively from the simplest to +the most difficult of treatment. The examples are presented only as +definite illustrations; there is no attempt to classify all short +stories, or all the stories of any particular author. + + +I. THE TALE is the relation, in an interesting and literary form, of +some simple incident or stirring fact. It has no plot in the sense that +there is any problem to unravel, or any change in the relation of the +characters; it usually contains action, but chiefly accidents or odd +happenings, which depend on their intrinsic interest, without regard to +their influence on the lives of the actors. + +(_a_) It is often a genuine _True Story_, jealously observant of facts, +and embellished only to the extent that the author has endeavored to +make his style vivid and picturesque. Such stories are a result of the +tendency of the modern newspaper to present its news in good literary +form. The best illustrations are the occasional contributions of Ray +Stannard Baker to _McClure's Magazine_. + +(_b_) It may, however, be an _Imaginative Tale_, which could easily +happen, but which is the work of the author's imagination. It is a +straightforward narration of possible events; if it passes the bounds of +probability, or attempts the utterly impossible, it becomes a _Story of +Ingenuity_. (See Class VIII.) It has no love element and no plot; and +its workmanship is loose. The best examples are the stories of adventure +found in the better class of boys' and children's papers. + + +II. THE MORAL STORY, in spite of the beautiful examples left us by +Hawthorne, is usually too baldly didactic to attain or hold a high place +in literature. Its avowed purpose is to preach, and, as ordinarily +written, preach it does in the most determined way. Its plot is usually +just sufficient to introduce the moral. It is susceptible of a high +literary polish in the hands of a master; but when attempted by a novice +it is apt to degenerate into a mess of moral platitudes. + +(_a_) _The Fable_ makes no attempt to disguise its didactic purpose, but +publishes it by a final labelled "Moral," which epitomizes the lesson it +conveys. In _Fables_ the characters are often animals, endowed with all +the attributes of men. It early lost favor because of its bald +didacticism, and for the last century has been practiced only +occasionally. To-day it is used chiefly for the purpose of burlesque and +satire, as in George Ade's "Fables in Slang." AEsop is of course the +immortal example of this sort of story. + +(_b_) The _Story with a Moral_ attempts to sugar-coat its sermon with a +little narrative. It sticks rather closely to facts, and has a slight +plot, which shows, or is made to show, the consequences of drinking, +stealing, or some other sin. Usually it is either brutally realistic or +absurdly exaggerated; but that it can be given literary charm is proved +by Hawthorne's use of it. Maria Edgeworth is easily the "awful example" +of this class, and her stories, such as "Murad the Unlucky" and "The +Grateful Negro," are excellent illustrations of how _not_ to write. Many +of Hawthorne's tales come under this head, especially "Lady Eleanor's +Mantle," "The Ambitious Guest," and "Miss Bullfrog." The stories of Miss +Wilkins usually have a strong moral element, but they are better classed +in a later division. (See Class IV.) Contemporary examples of this style +of writing may be found in the pages of most Sunday School and +Temperance papers. + +(_c_) _The Allegory_ is the only really literary form of the _Moral +Story_, and the only one which survives to-day. It has a strong moral +purpose, but disguises it under the pretense of a well-told story; so +that it is read for its story alone, and the reader is conscious of its +lesson only when he has finished the narrative. It usually personifies +or gives concrete form to the various virtues and vices of men. +Examples: Hawthorne's "The Birthmark," "Rappaccini's Daughter," and +"Feathertop." Allegories which deserve the name are sometimes found in +current periodicals. + + +III. THE WEIRD STORY owes its interest to the innate love of the +supernatural or unexplainable which is a part of our complex human +nature--the same feeling which prompts a group of children to beg for +"just one more" ghost story, while they are still shaken with the terror +of the last one. It may have a definite plot in which supernatural +beings are actors; but more often it is slight in plot, but contains a +careful psychological study of some of the less pleasant emotions. + +(_a_) The _Ghost Story_ usually has a definite plot, in which the ghost +is an actor. The ghost may be a "really truly" apparition, manifesting +itself by the conventional methods, and remaining unexplained to the +end, as in Irving's "The Spectre Bridegroom," and Kipling's "The Phantom +'Rickshaw;" or it may prove to be the result of a superstitious mind +dwelling upon perfectly natural occurrences, as in Irving's "The Legend +of Sleepy Hollow," and Wilkins' "A Gentle Ghost." It requires art +chiefly to render it plausible; particularly in the latter case, when +the mystery must be carefully kept up until the denouement. + +(_b_) The _Fantastic Tale_ treats of the lighter phases of the +supernatural. Its style might be well described as whimsical, its +purpose is to amuse by means of playful fancies, and it usually exhibits +a delicate humor. The plot is slight and subordinate. Examples: +Hawthorne's "A Select Party," "The Hall of Fantasy," and "Monsieur du +Miroir;" and most of our modern fairy tales. + +(_c_) The _Study in Horror_ was first made popular by Poe, and he has +had almost no successful imitators. It is unhealthy and morbid, full of +a terrible charm if well done, but tawdry and disgusting if bungled. It +requires a daring imagination, a full and facile vocabulary, and a keen +sense of the ludicrous to hold these two in check. The plot is used only +to give the setting to the story. Most any of Poe's tales would serve as +an illustration, but "The Pit and the Pendulum," and "The Fall of the +House of Usher" are particularly apt. Doyle has done some work +approaching Poe's, but his are better classed as _Stories of Ingenuity_. +(See Class VIII.) + + +IV. THE CHARACTER STUDY is a short story in which the chief interest +rests in the development and exposition of human character. It may treat +of either a type or an individual. Good character delineation is one of +the surest proofs of a writer's literary ability. + +(_a_) When the character depicted is inactive the resultant work is not +really a story. It usually has no plot, and is properly a _Sketch_, in +which the author makes a psychological analysis of his subject. It +inclines to superficiality and is liable to degenerate into a mere +detailed description of the person. It demands of the writer the ability +to catch striking details and to present them vividly and interestingly. +Examples: Hawthorne's "Sylph Etherege" and "Old Esther Dudley;" Poe's +"The Man of the Crowd;" James' "Greville Fane" and "Sir Edmund Orme;" +Stevenson's "Will o' the Mill;" Wilkins' "The Scent of the Roses" and "A +Village Lear." + +(_b_) When the character described is active we have a _Character Study_ +proper, built upon a plot which gives the character opportunity to work +out his own personality before us by means of speech and action. The +plot is subordinated to the character sketching. The psychological +analysis is not presented by the author in so many words, but is deduced +by the reader from his observation of the character. Such studies +constitute one of the highest art forms of the short story, for the +characters must live on the printed page. The short stories of Henry +James and of Miss Wilkins could almost be classed _in toto_ under this +head; Miss Wilkins' characters are usually types, while those of James +are more often individual, though rather unusual. Other good examples +are Hawthorne's "Edward Randolph's Portrait;" Irving's "The Devil and +Tom Walker," and "Wolfert Weber;" Stevenson's "Markheim" and "The Brown +Box;" and Davis' "Van Bibber," as depicted in the several stories of +"Van Bibber and Others." + +Notice that in both subdivisions nearly every title embodies a reference +to the character described, showing that the author intentionally set +out to sketch a character. + + +V. THE DIALECT STORY might be considered as a subdivision of the +preceding class, since it is in effect a _Character Study_; but its +recent popularity seems to warrant its being treated separately. Its +chief distinction is that it is written in the broken English used by +the uneducated classes of our own country, and by foreigners. Its plot +is either very slight or hopelessly hackneyed, and it is redeemed from +sheer commonplace only by its picturesque language. It is usually told +in the first person by some English-murdering ignoramus. It is simple, +and sometimes has a homely pathos. It may present character as either +active or inactive, though usually the former. Its excuse for existence +is that it gives truthful expression, in their own language, to the +thoughts of certain classes of society; but as written by the amateur +the dialect is a fearful and wonderful combination of incorrect English +that was never heard from the mouth of any living man. Joel Chandler +Harris' "Nights with Uncle Remus" contains genuine dialect; other +varieties correctly handled may be found in almost any of the stories +of George Washington Cable, Ian Maclaren, and Miss Wilkins. + +The _Dialect Story_ as literature and as a field for the novice is +considered at length in Chapter VI. + + +VI. THE PARABLE OF THE TIMES is a short story which aims to present a +vivid picture of our own times, either to criticise some existing evil, +or to entertain by telling us something of how "the other half" of the +world lives. It is in a sense a further development of _The Tale_ (Class +I.), though it has a more definite plot. It is the most favored form of +the short story to-day, and its popularity is responsible for a mess of +inane commonplace and bald realism that is written by amateurs, who +think they are presenting pen pictures of life. For since its matter is +gathered from our everyday lives, it requires some degree of skill to +make such narratives individual and interesting. + +(_a_) The _Instructive Story_ of this class may be further subdivided as +(1) that which puts present day problems in concrete form, with no +attempt at a solution; and (2) that which not only criticises, but +attempts also to correct. In either case, it aims to reform by +education; it deals with actual problems of humanity rather than with +abstract moral truths; and it seeks to amuse always, and to reform if +possible. It must not be confused with the _Moral Story_ of Class II. +Octave Thanet writes this style of story almost exclusively, and any of +her work selected at random would be a good illustration; her "Sketches +of American Types" would be listed under (1), and such stories as "The +Scab" and "Trusty No. 49" under (2). Under (1) would come also Brander +Matthews' "Vignettes of Manhattan;" and under (2) Edward Everett Hale's +"The Man Without a Country" and "Children of the Public." + +(_b_) The most usual story of this class is the _Story of To-day_, which +uses present day conditions as a background, and which endeavors only to +amuse and interest the reader. Naturally, however, since the scenes and +persons described must be new to the reader, such a story is also +educating and broadening in its influence. Its plot may seem trivial +when analyzed, but it is selected with a view more to naturalness than +to strength or complexity. Here we should list nearly all of our modern +so-called "society stories," and "stories of manners." Any of Richard +Harding Davis' short stories will serve as an excellent illustration, +and most of the stories in current periodicals belong in the same +category. + + +VII. THE STORY OF INGENUITY is one of the most modern forms of the short +story, and, if I may be pardoned the prolixity, one of the most +ingenious. It might be called the "fairy tale of the grown-up," for its +interest depends entirely upon its appeal to the love for the marvelous +which no human being ever outgrows. It requires fertility of invention, +vividness of imagination, and a plausible and convincing style. Yet it +is an easy sort of story to do successfully, since ingenuity will atone +for many technical faults; but it usually lacks serious interest and is +short lived. Poe was the originator and great exemplar of the _Story of +Ingenuity_, and all of his tales possess this cleverness in some degree. + +(_a_) The _Story of Wonder_ has little plot. It is generally the vivid +description of some amazing discovery (Poe's "Some Words with a Mummy," +Hale's "The Spider's Eye"), impossible invention (Adee's "The Life +Magnet," Mitchell's "The Ablest Man in the World"), astounding adventure +(Stockton's "Wreck of the Thomas Hyde," Stevenson's "House with Green +Blinds"), or a vivid description of what might be (Benjamin's "The End +of New York," Poe's "The Domain of Arnheim"). It demands unusual +imaginative power. + +(_b_) The _Detective Story_ requires the most complex plot of any type +of short story, for its interest depends solely upon the solution of the +mystery presented in that plot. It arouses in the human mind much the +same interest as an algebraic problem, which it greatly resembles. Poe +wrote the first, and probably the best, one in "The Murders in the Rue +Morgue;" his "The Mystery of Marie Roget" and "The Gold Bug" are other +excellent examples. Doyle, in his "Sherlock Holmes" stories, is a worthy +successor of Poe. + + +VIII. THE HUMOROUS STORY almost belongs in the category of _Stories of +Ingenuity_, so largely does it depend upon the element of the unusual; +but for that fact it should have been listed earlier, because it has +little care for plot. Indeed, these stories are the freest of all in +their disregard for conventions; with them it is "anything to raise a +laugh," and the end is supposed to justify the means. In general they +are of transient interest and crude workmanship, little fitted to be +called classics; but Mark Twain, at least, has shown us that humor and +art are not incompatible. + +(_a_) The simplest form is the _Nonsense Story_, as it may be justly +called. Usually it has the merest thread of plot, but contains odd or +grotesque characters whose witty conversation furnishes all the +amusement necessary. If the characters do act they have an unfortunate +tendency to indulge in horse play. The work of John Kendrick Bangs well +illustrates this type of story. His books, "The House Boat on the Styx" +and "The Pursuit of the House Boat," are really only collections of +short stories, for each chapter can be considered as a whole. + +(_b_) _The Burlesque_ has a plot, but usually one which is absurdly +impossible, or which is treated in a burlesque style. The amusement is +derived chiefly from the contrast between the matter and the method of +its presentation. Most of Stockton's stories are of this type: notably +his "The Lady, or the Tiger?" Mark Twain, too, usually writes in this +vein, as in "The Jumping Frog" and "The Stolen White Elephant." + + +IX. THE DRAMATIC STORY is the highest type of the short story. It +requires a definite but simple plot, which enables the characters to act +out their parts. In its perfect form it is the "bit of real life" which +it is the aim of the short story to present. It is the story shorn of +all needless verbiage, and told as nearly as possible in the words and +actions of the characters themselves; and it possesses a strong climax. +Therefore it demands the most careful and skillful workmanship, from its +conception to its final polishing. It is the most modern type of the +short story. + +(_a_) The short story has _Dramatic Form_ when the author's necessary +comments correspond to the stage directions of the drama. Such a story +is, in fact, a miniature drama, and is often capable of being acted just +as it stands. It has a definite plot, but it is developed by dialogue as +frequently as by action. It is the extreme of the modern tendency toward +dramatic narrative, and is just a little too "stagey" and artificial to +be a perfect short story. It is, however, in good literary standing and +in good favor with the public, and it is most excellent practice for the +tyro, for in it he has to sink himself completely in his characters. +Examples: Hope's "The Dolly Dialogues;" Kipling's "The Story of the +Gadsbys;" and Howells' one act parlor plays, like "The Parlor Car," "The +Register," "The Letter," and "Unexpected Guests." + +(_b_) A short story has _Dramatic Effect_ when it deals with a single +crisis, conveys a single impression, is presented chiefly by the actors +themselves, and culminates in a single, perfect climax. It may, or may +not, be capable of easy dramatization. It is less artificial than the +story of pure _Dramatic Form_, but is just as free from padding and +irrelevant matter, and just as vivid in effect. It allows of greater art +and finish, for the writer has wider freedom in his method of +presentation. Examples: Poe's "'Thou Art the Man!'" and "Berenice;" +James' "The Lesson of the Master" and "A Passionate Pilgrim;" Wilkins' +"A New England Nun" and "Amanda and Love;" Stevenson's "The Isle of the +Voices;" and Irving's "The Widow and Her Son" and "Rip Van Winkle." But, +indeed, every good short story belongs in this class, which is not so +much a certain type of the short story, as the "honor class" to which +each story seeks admittance. + +Every story cited in this book, unless otherwise located, can be found +in one of the appended published collections of short stories: + + George Ade: "Fables in Slang." + + John Kendrick Bangs: "The Bicyclers;" "Ghosts I Have Met;" "The + Houseboat on the Styx;" "Mantel-Piece Minstrels, and Other + Stories;" "Paste Jewels;" "The Pursuit of the Houseboat;" "The + Water-Ghost and Others." + + J. M. Barrie: "An Auld Licht Manse;" "Auld Licht Idyls." + + George Washington Cable: "Old Creole Days;" "Strange True + Stories of Louisiana." + + Samuel L. Clemens (Mark Twain): "Merry Tales;" "The Stolen White + Elephant." + + Richard Harding Davis: "Cinderella and Others;" "The Exiles and + Other Stories;" "Gallegher, and Other Stories;" "The Lion and the + Unicorn;" "Van Bibber and Others." + + Charles Dickens: "Christmas Books;" "Christmas Stories;" + "Sketches by Boz." + + A. Conan Doyle: "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes;" "The + Captain of the Pole Star;" "The Exploits of Brigadier Gerard;" + "Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes;" "My Friend the Murderer;" "Round + the Red Lamp." + + Maria Edgeworth: "Popular Tales." + + Alice French (Octave Thanet): "A Book of True Lovers;" "The + Missionary Sheriff;" "Stories of a Western Town." + + H. Rider Haggard: "Allan's Wife." + + Joel Chandler Harris: "Daddy Jake, the Runaway;" "Nights with + Uncle Remus;" "Tales of Home Folks in Peace and War." + + Bret Harte: "Colonel Starbottle's Client;" "In the Hollow of the + Hills;" "The Luck of Roaring Camp;" "Mrs. Skagg's Husbands;" + "Tales of the Argonauts;" "Thankful Blossom;" "The Story of a + Mine." + + Nathaniel Hawthorne: "Mosses from an Old Manse;" "Twice Told + Tales." + + Anthony Hope: "The Dolly Dialogues." + + William Dean Howells: "A Fearful Responsibility and Other + Stories;" "The Mouse-Trap and Other Farces;" "The Sleeping Car + and Other Farces." + + Washington Irving: "The Sketch Book;" "Tales of a Traveler." + + Henry James: "The Aspern Papers;" "The Author of Beltraffio;" + "The Lesson of the Master;" "A London Life;" "A Passionate + Pilgrim;" "The Real Thing." + + Rudyard Kipling: "The Day's Work;" "In Black and White;" "Indian + Tales;" "The Jungle Book;" "Life's Handicap;" "Many Inventions;" + "The Phantom 'Rickshaw;" "Plain Tales from the Hills;" "The + Second Jungle Book;" "Soldiers Three and Military Tales;" + "Soldier Stories;" "Under the Deodars." + + Brander Matthews: "Outlines in Local Color;" "Tales of Fantasy + and Fact;" "Vignettes of Manhattan." + + Guy de Maupassant: "The Odd Number." + + Thomas Nelson Page: "The Burial of the Guns;" "In Ole Virginia." + + Scribner's series: "Short Stories by American Authors." + + Robert Louis Stevenson: "The Island Nights' Entertainments;" + "The Merry Men;" "New Arabian Nights." + + Frank R. Stockton: "Amos Kilbright;" "The Lady, or the Tiger?" + "Rudder Grange;" "A Story Teller's Pack." + + John Watson (Ian Maclaren): "Auld Lang Syne;" "Beside the Bonnie + Brier Bush." + + Mary E. Wilkins: "A Humble Romance;" "The Love of Parson Lord;" + "A New England Nun;" "The Pot of Gold;" "Silence;" "Young + Lucretia." + + + + +III + +THE PLOT + + +The plot is the nucleus of the story, the bare thought or incident +upon which the narrative is to be builded. When a child says, +"Grandma, tell me the story of how the whale swallowed Jonah," he +gives the plot of the story that he desires; and the grandmother +proceeds to elaborate that primal idea to suit the taste of her +auditor. In like manner, before you put pen to paper, you must have +in mind some interesting idea which you wish to express in narrative +form; the absence of such an idea means that you have no plot, no +story to tell, and therefore have no business to be writing. If you +undertake to tell a short story, go about it in a workmanlike manner: +don't begin scribbling pretty phrases, and trust to Providence to +introduce the proper story, but yourself provide the basic facts. If +you do not begin correctly, it is useless for you to begin at all. + +A plot implies action--that is, something must happen; at the +conclusion of the story the characters must be differently situated, and +usually differently related one to another, from what they were at the +beginning. The event need not be tragic, or even serious; but it must be +of sufficient importance, novelty and interest to justify its relation +in narrative form. In general the plot of a short story involves an +incident or a minor crisis in a human life, rather than the supreme +crisis which makes or mars a man for good. The chief reason for this is +that the supreme crisis requires more elaborate preparation and +treatment than is possible in the short story. There may be a strong +tragic element which makes it seem that the denouement must be tragic, +but that is usually to obtain the effect of contrast. Yet the short +story may be a supreme crisis and a tragedy, as are Stevenson's +"Markheim," Hawthorne's "The Ambitious Guest"[11] and "The Birthmark," +and many of Poe's tales; but these are stories of an exceptional type, +in which the whole life of the chief actor comes to a focus in the +crisis which makes the story. + +The short story plot must be simple and complete. The popular idea of +a plot, derived from the requirements of the novel and the drama, is +that it should be a tangled skein of facts and fancies, which the +author shall further complicate in order to exhibit his deftness in +the final disentanglement. Such a plot is impossible for the short +story, which admits of no side issues and no second or under plot. It +must not be the synopsis of a novel, or the attempt to compress into +the tiny compass of the short story a complicated plot sufficient for +a novel, as are so many of the "Short Stories of the Day" now +published by newspapers. As nearly as possible it must deal with a +single person, in a single action, at a single place, in a single +time. More than any other modern form of literature, the short story +requires the observance of the old Greek unities of time, place and +action: its brevity and compactness do not admit of the proper +treatment of the changes wrought by the passage of time, the +influences of different scenes, or the complications resulting from +the interrelation of many characters of varied importance. If the +plot chosen requires the passage of ten years' time, if it involves a +shift of scene from New York to Timbuctoo, or if it introduces two or +three sets of characters, it may by some miracle of ingenuity make a +readable story, but it will never be a model one. In "The Ambitious +Guest" the time is less than three hours, the place is a single room, +and the action is the development of the guest's ambition. + +Yet the plot is only relatively important. It must always be present or +there is no story; but once there it takes second place. The short story +is not written to exploit the plot, however clever that may be, but to +give a glimpse of real life; and the plot is only a means to that end. +This is well illustrated by the _Character Study_, in which the real +interest centers in the analysis and exposition of a character, and the +plot is incidental. In many classes of stories, as we have already +observed, the plot is used only to hold the narrative together, and the +interest depends on the attractiveness of the picture presented. The +plot must not be allowed to force itself through the fabric of the +story, like the protruding ribs of a half-starved horse; but must be +made to give form and substantiality to the word-flesh which covers it. + +In _Detective Stories_, however, the plot is all-important, for the +interest depends entirely upon the unraveling of some tangle; but +even here it must contain but a single idea, though that may be +rather involved. Such stories are really much simpler than they +appear, for their seeming complexity consists in telling the story +backwards, and so reasoning from effect to cause, rather than vice +versa as in the ordinary tale. The plot itself is simple enough, as +may be proved by working backward through Poe's "The Murders in the +Rue Morgue." This is, by the way, a method of plot-making which is +often, and incorrectly, employed by novices in the construction of +any story. It has been aptly called "building the pyramid from the +apex downward."[12] It results from an exaggerated conception of the +importance of the plot. But it is not so much _what_ the characters +do that interests us, but _how_ they do it. + +"The true method for the making of a plot is the development of what may +be called a plot-germ. Take two or three characters, strongly +individualized morally and mentally, place them in a strong situation +and let them develop.... There are hundreds of these plot-germs in our +every-day life, conversation and newspaper reading, and the slightest +change in the character at starting will give a wide difference in +ending.... Change the country and the atmosphere is changed, the +elements are subjected to new influences which develop new incidents and +so a new plot.... Change any vital part in any character and the plot +must be different. One might almost say two plots thus developed from +the same plot-germ can have no greater resemblance than two shells cast +up by the ocean."[13] "In the evolution of a plot the main things to be +considered are that it shall be reasonably interesting, that it shall +not violate probability, and that it shall possess some originality +either of subject or of treatment. Not the possible, but the probable, +should be the novelist's guide."[14] + +The surest test of a usable plot is, "Is it natural?" Every plot is +founded upon fact, which may be utilized in its original form, or so +skillfully disguised or ingeniously distorted that it will seem like a +product of the imagination. In the first case the resulting story would +be termed realistic, in the second case romantic. A story built on a +plot that is an unvarnished fact will be of course a _True Story_; and +there are incidents and events in real life that need little more than +isolation to make them good stories. There is, however, a danger that +the novice may consider any matter usable which is true to life. Do not +forget that the short story is a form of art.[15] + +The best plot is derived from the action of an artistic imagination on a +commonplace fact; the simpler and better known the fact is, the better +will it serve the purpose, for it must be accepted without question: +then it must be built up and developed by imaginative touches, always +with a view to plausibility, till it attains the dignity of a distinct +and interesting plot. Recent discoveries and the attainments of modern +science have introduced us to so many strange things that we have almost +ceased to doubt any statement which we may see in print; and writers +have become so ingenious in weaving together fact and fancy that their +tales are sometimes more plausible than truth itself. This was done with +peculiar skill by Poe. His story, now known as "The Balloon Hoax," +originally appeared in the New York _Sun_ as a correspondent's account +of an actual occurrence. The tale gained credence through its remarkable +accuracy of detail in regard to recognized scientific principles, and +the fact that at that time the world was considerably agitated by +similar genuine feats of aerostation. As Poe makes one of his characters +to say, "the feat is only so feasible that the sole wonder is why men +have scrupled to attempt it before"--at least on paper. + +Yet in spite of the many curious and interesting things that happen +daily, and in spite of the inventive faculty of the mind, it is +impossible to find a new plot. "History repeats itself" in small +affairs as well as in great, and the human mind has not changed +materially since the first days of story telling. Indeed, some one +has said that all the stories ever told can be traced to less than a +dozen original plots, whose origin is lost in obscurity. But if we +can neither find nor invent a new story we can at least ring the +changes on the old ones, and in this lies our hope to-day. Each one +of these old plots is capable of an infinite variety of phases, and +what we are constantly hailing as an original story is merely one of +our old friends looked at from a different point of view. How many +good, fresh stories have you read that were based on the ancient +elemental plot of two men in love with one woman, or on that equally +hoary one of fond lovers severed by disapproving parents? Irving's +"The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" is derived from the first, yet few +readers would so recognize it on first perusal; for unless you stop +and analyze it, it seems distinct and new. + +For further illustration of this reworking of old ideas, I have +carefully searched the leading American magazines for March, 1900, for +short stories based upon the old, old elemental plot of two men in love +with one woman, and append herewith rough synopses of such stories. Note +that this one number of _The Munsey_ contains no less than three stories +with this basic plot. + + + _The Munsey._ + + "The Folly of It," by Ina Brevoort. + + Fred Leighton and John Marchmont are in love with Angela. She + loves Leighton, but they have agreed that he is too poor to make + their married life happy. Marchmont, who is rich, proposes to + her. She and Leighton calmly discuss the situation at their last + dinner together and confirm their former decision; but when the + matter is logically settled they decide to defy poverty and + marry. + + "With a Second to Spare," by Tom Hall. + + Labarre and I both love Nellie, but Nellie marries me. Labarre + leads a big strike on the railroad by which we are both employed + as engineers; I refuse to join. One noon Labarre overpowers me, + binds me on the rails between the wheels of my engine, and + starts it moving slowly so that it will crush me by twelve, when + Nellie always brings my dinner. After my death he expects to + marry her. Nellie arrives and releases me just in the nick of + time. (This story is really a scene from an amateur melodrama.) + + "Mulligan's Treachery," by David H. Talmadge. + + Mulligan and Garvey love Ellen Kelly. They agree not to take + advantage of each other in wooing her, and go to the Philippines + together as soldiers. There Garvey, leading a charge, is shot + through the head, but Mulligan goes on and receives a medal for + his bravery. Garvey recovers, but is blind for life. On their + return to America Mulligan finds Ellen's face terribly mutilated + by an accident. He would still gladly marry her; but he makes + Garvey believe he won the medal, tells him nothing of Ellen's + disfigurement, and brings about their marriage. Then he is + conscience stricken at the manner in which he has taken + advantage of his friend's disability. + + + _The Cosmopolitan._ + + "The Pilot of the 'Sadie Simmons,'" by Joseph Mills Hanson. + + Tommy Duncan, a Mississippi River pilot, is engaged to Tillie + Vail. Her affections are alienated by Jack Cragg, a disreputable + steamboat engineer, whom Duncan, believing he is deceiving the + girl, threatens to kill on sight. Cragg kills a man in a + drunken brawl on shore, and Duncan assists the sheriff to save + him from would-be lynchers, and swears to protect him, before he + knows who the prisoner is. When he learns he refuses to be bound + by his oath, but as he is about to carry out his threat he is + led to believe that Cragg honestly loves the girl. Cragg is + attacked by a mob, and, though he cannot swim, jumps into the + river to escape. Duncan rescues him and loses his own life. + Cragg reforms and marries Tilly. + + + _Ainslee's Magazine._ + + "Mr. Sixty's Mistake," by Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. + + William Lewis loves Lillian Blythe. His brother Tom comes + between them and William shoots him and flees west to Pleasant + Valley, where he goes by the name of "Cockey Smith". One night + he tells his story to his companions. Harry Blythe, brother to + Lillian, Lewis' old friend, and now sheriff of his home county, + who arrived that night, overhears him. Blythe reveals his + identity to "Sixty", the butt of the camp, and tells him that + Tom did not die and that Lewis can go back home, where Lillian + is still waiting for him. Sixty breaks the news to Lewis while + the latter is mad with drink, and Lewis, thinking the sheriff + has come for him, kills him. Later he shoots himself. + + + "A Kentucky Welcome," by Ewan Macpherson. + + Edmund Pierce, a New Yorker, is in love with Lucy Cabell, a + Kentucky belle; and hearing that her cousin, "Brook" Cabell, is + endangering his chances, he sets out to pay Miss Cabell a visit. + He gets off at the wrong station and in his confusion is + arrested by the local marshal as a Russian diamond robber. He + telegraphs to the Cabells, and Brook rescues him at the point of + the revolver, though he knows that the Northerner is Miss + Cabell's favorite. + +These stories, even in this crude, condensed form, robbed of all the +beauties of imagery and expression, reveal the virtues which won for +them editorial approval and which contribute to the enjoyment of +their readers. Their apparent freshness is due to the treatment of a +thread-bare plot in a new phase, and the phase, in turn, depends upon +the introduction of some new element, unimportant in itself, perhaps, +which presents the old story in the new light. "The Folly of It" is +the best illustration, for though its plot is old and apparently +hopeless, the brightness and naturalness of the conversation which +constitutes almost the entire story makes it most readable. In +"Mulligan's Treachery" the personality of Mulligan gives the +necessary freshness. "The Pilot of the 'Sadie Simmons'" depends on +local color and the interest in Duncan's struggle to distinguish +right from wrong. And so some little freshness of treatment makes +each of the others a good story. + +These vivifying elements are by no means extraordinary, or difficult to +find. They are new ideas concerning old subjects, such as you are +continually meeting in your everyday life and reading. A new character, +a new scene, a new invention or discovery, or merely a new mental bias +on the part of the writer, will work wonders in the revivifying of an +old plot. Think how many new phases of old plots have been produced +recently by the incorporation of the "X" ray, or by the influence of the +war with Spain. Try, then, to get a new light on the plot that you +purpose to use, to view it from an unexpected side, to handle it in an +unusual manner--in short, try to be original. If you have not the energy +or the ability to do this, you would better cease your literary efforts +at once, for you will only waste your time. + +"But ... there are some themes so hackneyed--such as the lost will, the +glorified governess, or the persecuted maiden who turns out to be an +earl's daughter--that they would not now be tolerated outside the pages +of a 'penny dreadful,' where, along with haughty duchesses, elfin-locked +gypsies and murderous abductors, they have become part of the regular +stock-in-trade of the purveyors of back-stairs literature. The only +theme that never grows trite or commonplace is love."[16] "Another +offense ... is the light theme that, being analyzed, amounts to nothing. +It may be so cleverly handled that we read with pleasure--and then at +the end are disgusted with ourselves for being pleased, and enraged at +the writer for deluding us; for we thought there would be something +beneath his graceful manners and airy persiflage, and lo, there is +not."[17] + +The plot of a short story should allow of expression in a single short, +fairly simple sentence; if it cannot be so compressed there is something +radically wrong with it. This may be called the "elemental" or "true" +plot. It will be in general, perhaps vague, terms, and will permit +differing treatment by different writers; yet its trend and its outcome +will be definitely fixed. This true plot, in turn, can be expressed in +yet more general terms, often as the primal truth which the story +illustrates; this may be called the "theme" of the story. Thus in "The +Ambitious Guest," the theme is "The futility of abstracted ambition;" +or, in its most general terms, "The irony of fate." The true plot is: + + An unknown but ambitious youth stops at a mountain tavern and + perishes with its inmates. + +In the development of a plot from this germ into the completed story, +it is often of advantage to make what may be called a "skeleton" or +"working plot." This skeleton is produced by thinking through the +story as it has been conceived, and setting down on paper in logical +order a line for every important idea. These lines will roughly +correspond to the paragraphs of the finished story, but in a +descriptive paragraph one line will not suffice, while a line may +represent a dozen paragraphs of dialogue; then, too, paragraphing is +partly logical and partly mechanical, and varies considerably with +the person. + + Working Plot of "The Ambitious Guest." + + ¶ 1. + + The scene is a tavern located at the Notch in the White Hills. + + The time, a September night. + + The place is in danger from landslides and falling stones. + + The family--father, mother, grandmother, daughter and + children--are gathered happily about the hearth. + + ¶ 2, 3. + + The tavern is on a well-frequented road. + + ¶ 4-7. + + A young stranger enters, looking rather travel-worn, but + quickly brightens up at his warm reception. + + ¶ 8, 9. + + A stone rolls down the mountain side. + + ¶ 10. + + The guest, though naturally reticent, soon becomes familiar with + the family. + + ¶ 11. + + The secret of the young man's character is high and abstracted + ambition. + + ¶ 12. + + He is as yet unknown. + + ¶ 13, 14. + + He is sensible of the ludicrous side of his ambition. + + ¶ 15. + + The daughter is not ambitious. + + ¶ 16-19. + + The father's ambition is to own a good farm, to be sent to General + Court, and to die peacefully. + + ¶ 20-23. + + The children wish for the most ridiculous things. + + ¶ 24-27. + + A wagon stops before the inn, but drives on when the landlord does + not immediately appear. + + ¶ 28-31. + + The daughter is not really content. + + ¶ 32. + + The family picture. + + ¶ 33-37. + + The grandmother tells of having prepared her grave-clothes. + + Fears if they are not put on smoothly she will not rest easily. + + ¶ 38, 39. + + She wishes to see herself in her coffin. + + ¶ 40, 41. + + They hear the landslide coming. + + ¶ 42. + + All rush from the house and are instantly destroyed. + + The house is unharmed. + + The bodies are never found. + + ¶ 43, 44. + + Even the death of the ambitious guest is in doubt. + +You will notice that this working plot omits many little details which +are too trivial to set down, or which probably would not occur to one +until the actual writing; and all the artistic touches that make the +story literature are ruthlessly shorn away, for they are part of the +treatment, not of the plot. + +This method of permitting you to study your crude material in the +concrete will prove of value to you. It enables you to crystalize +into ideas what were mere phantasms of the brain, to arrange your +thoughts in their proper order, and to condense or expand details +with a ready comprehension of the effect of such alterations upon the +general proportions of the story. It makes your purposed work +objective enough so that you can consider it with a coolness and +impartiality which were impossible while it was still in embryo in +your brain; and it often reveals the absurdity or impossibility of a +plan which had seemed to you most happy. I believe that the novice +can do no better than to put his every story to this practical test. + +The use of this skeleton in the further development of the story depends +upon the methods of the writer, or the matter in hand. Many short story +writers waste no time in preparations, but at once set down the story +complete; and to my mind that is the ideal method, for it is more apt to +make the tale spontaneous and technically correct. But if the story is +not well defined in your mind, or if it requires some complexity of +plot, like the _Detective Story_, this plan can be followed to advantage +in the completion of the work. It may be used as a regular skeleton, +upon which the narrative is built by a process of elaboration and +expansion of the lines into paragraphs; or it may be used merely as a +reference to keep in mind the logical order of events. Usually you will +forget the scheme in the absorption of composition; but the fact of +having properly arranged your ideas will assist you materially, if +unconsciously, in the elaboration. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 11: "The Ambitious Guest," because of its technical perfection +and its apt illustration of the principles discussed, will be used +throughout as a paradigm. It can be found in full in the Appendix.--THE +AUTHOR.] + +[Footnote 12: "Have the Plots Been Exhausted?" Editorial Comment. +_Current Literature._ June, '96.] + +[Footnote 13: "Have the Plots Been Exhausted?" Editorial Comment. +_Current Literature._ June, '96.] + +[Footnote 14: "Rudimentary Suggestions for Beginners in Story Writing," +by E. F. Andrews. _Cosmopolitan._ Feb., '97.] + +[Footnote 15: For a complete discussion of the proper use of facts in +fiction see Chapter V.--THE AUTHOR.] + +[Footnote 16: "Rudimentary Suggestions for Beginners in Story Writing," +by E. F. Andrews. _Cosmopolitan._ Feb., '97.] + +[Footnote 17: "Magazine Fiction and How Not to Write It," by Frederick +M. Bird. _Lippincott's._ Nov., '94.] + + + + +IV + +TITLES GOOD AND BAD + + +Too often the novice considers the title of his story a matter of no +import. He looks upon it as a mere handle, the result of some happy +afterthought, affixed to the completed story for convenience or +reference, just as numbers are placed on the books in a library. The +title is really a fair test of what it introduces, and many a MS. has +been justly condemned by its title alone; for the editor knows that a +poor title usually means a poor story. Think, too, how often you +yourself pass a story by with but a casual glance, because its title +does not interest you: experience has shown you that you seldom enjoy +reading a story which bears an unattractive title. + +"A book's name often has an astonishing influence on its first sale. A +title that piques curiosity or suggests excitement or emotion will draw +a crowd of readers the moment it appears, while a book soberly named +must force its merits on the public. The former has all the advantage of +a pretty girl over a plain one; it is given an instantaneous chance to +prove itself worth while. A middle aged, unalluring title ('In Search of +Quiet,' for instance) may frighten people away from what proves to be a +mine of wit and human interest. A book headed by a man's name unmodified +and uncommented upon--such as 'Horace Chase'--is apt to have a dreary, +unprepossessing air, unless the name is an incisive one that suggests an +interesting personality. Fragments of proverbs and poems are always +attractive, as well as Biblical phrases and colloquial expressions, but +the magic title is the one that excites and baffles curiosity. The +publishers of a recent 'Primer of Evolution' received a sudden flood of +orders for the book simply on account of a review which had spoken of it +under the sobriquet, 'From Gas to Genius.' Many copies were indignantly +returned when the true title was revealed."[18] "In 1850 Dr. O. M. +Mitchell, Director of the Astronomical Observatory in Cincinnati, gave +to the press a volume entitled 'The Planetary and Stellar Worlds.' The +book fell dead from the press. The publisher complained bitterly of this +to a friend, saying, 'I have not sold a single copy.' 'Well,' was the +reply, 'you have killed the book by its title. Why not call it "The +Orbs of Heaven"?' The hint was accepted and acted upon, and 6,000 copies +were sold in a month."[19] + +The title might almost be called the "text" of the story; it should be +logically deduced from the plot; so a poor title usually indicates a +poor plot and a poor story. This name line should grow out of the phase +of the plot, rather than the basic theme, else it will be too abstract +and general. It is so closely allied to the plot that they should be +born synchronously--or if anything the title should precede the plot; +for the story is built up around the central thought that the title +expresses, much as Poe said he wrote "The Raven" about the word +"nevermore." At least, the title should be definitely fixed long before +the story is completed, and often before it has taken definite form in +the writer's mind. That this is the practice of professional writers may +be proved by a glance at the literary column of any periodical, where +coming books are announced by title when scarcely a word of them has +been written. So if you have difficulty in finding an appropriate title +for your story, first examine your plot, and make sure that the cause +does not lie there. In case you are unable to decide among a number of +possible titles, any one of which might do, you may find that your plot +lacks the definiteness of impression required by the short story; but a +fertile intellect may suggest a number of good titles, from which your +only difficulty is to select the best. + +A good story may be given a bad title by its author, and so started +toward failure. Novices are peculiarly liable to this fault, usually +through allowing themselves to be too easily satisfied. They go to +infinite pains to make the story itself fresh and individual, and then +cap it with a commonplace phrase that is worse than no title at all. A +good title is apt, specific, attractive, new, and short. + +A title is apt if it is an outgrowth of the plot--a text, as I have +said. It stands definitely for that particular story, and gives a +suggestion of what is to come--but only a suggestion, lest it should +anticipate the denouement and so satisfy the curiosity of the reader too +soon. An apt title excites and piques the curiosity almost as much as +does the story itself. Examples: Hawthorne's "The Wedding Knell;" Poe's +"'Thou Art the Man!'" Wilkins' "The Revolt of Mother." Each of these +titles conveys an idea, though a vague one, of the theme of the story, +and so its aptness is apparent; but frequently the relevancy of the +title is evident only after the story has been read, as in the case of +James' "The Real Thing" and "The Lesson of the Master." Such a title is +almost ideal. This suspension of aptness, carried to the extreme, +produces such vague and weak titles as: + + "Happiness Won." + "Almost Too Late." + "After All." + "Reorganized." + +The title must be specific or it is seldom apt. It is in this particular +that the novice generally fails. He deduces his title rather from the +original plot, or even from the theme, than from the particular phase +which he presents; but its title should distinguish his story from the +host of tales builded upon the same basic plot, just as the Christian +name of a Smith distinguishes him from the rest of the great family of +which he is a member. Thus we have such titles as the following, which +are more appropriate for essays in psychology, moral philosophy, or some +kindred subject, than for fiction: + + "How Dreams Come True." + "Moral Vision." + "Sorrow and Joy." + "The Straight Path." + +More often the unspecific title is simply a vague reference to the +general style of the story: + + "A Wedding in a Texas Jail." + "A Frightful Night Ride." + "A Unique Rescue." + "A Lynching Incident." + "Nature's Freaks." + "A Valuable Discovery." + "The Widow." + "A Valued Relic." + "A Strange Case." + "The Old Clock." + "The Office Boy." + +None of these titles represents any definite idea, and in nearly every +case it served to introduce a story which was equally vague, ordinary, +and uninteresting. Several of them, too--notably the first four--were +not stories at all, but were simply bits of description by narrative, +as their titles would suggest. + +In general a phrase, otherwise indefinite, becomes specific when united +with the name of a character, as in Hawthorne's "Howe's Masquerade" and +"Lady Eleanor's Mantle;" but such titles are usually ordinary and +unattractive. Some words frequently found in these compound titles are +so vague in meaning or so worn from use that their total avoidance is +the only safe course. Such are "Christmas," "Adventure," "Romance," +"Story," "Vision," and "Dream." A "Dream" or a "Vision" is usually the +relation of some commonplace incident with absurd adornments; and an +"Adventure" is more often a piece of description than of narration. I +know that these words may be found in combination in many happy titles, +but it is best that the novice let them severely alone. That such titles +are really a serious impediment to the success of their stories is shown +by the action of the Chicago _Record_. For some years it was the custom +of the _Record_ to offer substantial cash prizes for the best Christmas +stories written by school children; and prominent among the rules +governing the competition was the announcement that stories bearing +such titles as "Johnnie's Christmas," "Nellie's Christmas," "Mary's +Christmas," would not even be read. The following titles show how +fond is the novice of these objectionable words in their baldest +combinations: + + "Sarah's Christmas Present." + "Adventures with a Bear." + "Nettie's Romance." + "Lee's Romance." + "A Woman's Love Story." + "The Captain's Story." + "A True Story." + "The Story of a Vision." + "The Dream at Sea." + "Viola's Dream." + "Mabel's Dream." + "Eleanor's Dream." + +The title should be attractive because it will be the test of the +story, and it must be sufficiently interesting to arouse at a glance +the curiosity of the reader, and induce in him a desire to peruse the +narrative that it offers. Commonplaceness is the chief cause of the +unattractive title, and that fault is usually traceable to the plot +itself. It may, however, be due to a conventional expression of the +dominant idea of the story, as in the list just given; and also in +the following: + + "How Amy Won the Prize." + "Fred Norton, the Artist." + +Or it may be unattractive through comprising only the name of the chief +character: + + "Lucy Bonneville." + "Lester Rice." + +The use of a name for a title is a matter which it is difficult to +settle. If the story is dominated by one character, and particularly if +it is a genuine _Character Study_, the writer naturally feels that he +cannot do better than to name it after the character it depicts; and he +has good authority for so doing in the example of Poe ("Berenice," +"Elenora," "Morella"), Hawthorne ("Sylph Etherege," "Ethan Brand," +"Wakefield"), Irving ("Wolfert Webber," "Rip Van Winkle"), James ("Sir +Dominic Ferrand," "Nona Vincent," "Greville Fane"), Stevenson ("Olalla," +"Thrawn Janet," "Markheim"), Wilkins ("Louisa"), Davis ("Gallegher," +"Cinderella"), Kipling ("Lispeth," "Namgay Doola"), etc., etc. A good +rule to observe would be this: If the name of the chief personage gives +a hint of character, or if it is sufficiently unusual to attract +attention, it may be used as a title; but in general it will be stronger +if used in combination. + +In the endeavor to make his title distinctive and attractive the +novice is liable to fall into the error of making it cheap and +sensational. A title which offends against good taste must not be +used, no matter how desirable it may appear in the matter of +attractiveness. The newspaper caption writer who headed an account +of a hanging "Jerked to Jesus!" attained the acme of attractiveness, +but he also committed an unpardonable sin against good taste. The +short story writer seldom descends to such depths of sensationalism: +his chief offense consists in the use of double titles, connected by +the word "or." Often either title alone would be passable, if not +really good; but their united form must be placed in the category of +bad titles. Such titles are rated as bad chiefly through the effects +of association. It used to be common for a story to bear a double +title; but to-day the custom has been relegated to the cheap, +sensational tale of the "penny dreadful" order, and the conjunctive +title is a recognized mark of "yellow" literature. This fault in a +title can usually be corrected by the use of either of the titles +alone, as may be seen from a study of the following: + + (1) "The Story of Dora; or, Innocence Triumphant." + (2) "Jessie Redmond; or, The Spider and the Fly." + (3) "Outwitted; or, The Holdup of No. 4." + (4) "The Battle of the Black Cats; or, A Tragedy Played with + Twenty Thousand Actors and Only One Spectator." + (5) "Fate; or, Legend of 'Say Au Revoir, but not Goodbye.'" + (6) "The Romance of a Lost Mine; or, The Curse of the Navajos." + (7) "A Little Bunch of Rosebuds; or, Two Normal Graduates." + (8) "Her Silk Quilt; or, On the Crest of the Wave." + +(1) Neither part is particularly happy. "The Story of Dora" is too +general, and conveys an idea of largeness and time that is better suited +to the novel than to the short story; "Innocence Triumphant" is cheap, +sensational and trite. (2) "Jessie Redmond" is too commonplace a name to +be a good head line; "The Spider and the Fly" was worn out years ago. +(3) Either title alone is good; "The Holdup of No. 4" is preferable +because of its definiteness. (4) "The Battle of the Black Cats" alone +would pass, in spite of its hint of sensationalism; but the second part +is of course ludicrously impossible. (5) "Fate" is too indefinite; the +second title is cheap and old. (6) Either would do, though the first is +somewhat vague, and "Curse" savors of sensationalism. (7) Either would +do, though the first sounds rather silly. (8) The first is good; the +second is vague and rather old. + +That a title should be new is so obvious that offenses against this +rule are usually unconscious; yet in some cases stories have been +capped with stolen headings, where the theft was so apparently +intentional that it seemed as if the writer wished to fail. Lapses in +this regard are usually due to the writer's ignorance of the value of +a title; or to the too ready use of the abstract theme, as mentioned +before. Of such titles are "All's Well that Ends Well," "Love's Labor +Lost," and "The Irony of Fate," all of which are great favorites with +the beginner. Like charity, they will cover a multitude of sins, but +they constitute so great a literary sin in themselves that they +should be rigorously eschewed. To this class belongs also such a +title as "Cuba Libre!" which is so very old, and which during the +last few years has been so twisted and mishandled in every +conceivable way that its mere use is an irritation. Such a title will +frequently be apt, specific, attractive, and, in application, new; +but it will so exasperate the reader that its use will be perilous. + +For self-evident reasons the title should be short. Aptness and +specificness do not require an epitome of the story; and a title like +"Why Tom Changed His Opinion of Me," or "What the Rabbit Drive Did +for Me" is prosy as well as long. It used to be the custom to make +the title of a writing a regular synopsis of the matter contained +therein; but modern readers object to being told in advance exactly +what is to happen. No ruling concerning the proper length of a short +story title is possible; but generally speaking, the shorter the +title the better it is. Compound titles connected by "or," like those +previously mentioned, are as offensive in their length as in their +sensationalism. + +To illustrate further these several points I introduce here a few good +titles used by successful short story writers. They are roughly divided +into three classes according to their derivation. The title may be the +text of the story: + + Edgeworth: "Murad the Unlucky." + + Hawthorne: "The Wedding Knell;" "The Prophetic Pictures." + + James: "The Real Thing;" "The Lesson of the Master." + + Poe: "The Masque of the Red Death;" "'Thou Art the Man!'" + + Stockton: "The Transferred Ghost." + + Wilkins: "The Revolt of Mother;" "Two Old Lovers." + +The title may represent the principal character by name or by some apt +appellation: + + Davis: "Gallegher." + + Hawthorne: "The Ambitious Guest;" "Feathertop." + + Irving: "The Spectre Bridegroom;" "Rip Van Winkle." + + Poe: "Morella;" "Ligeia." + + Stevenson: "Markheim." + + Wilkins: "A Modern Dragon;" "A Kitchen Colonel." + +The title may mention the principal object: + + Adee: "The Life Magnet." + + Burnett: "The Spider's Eye." + + Hawthorne: "The Great Stone Face;" "The Great Carbuncle." + + James: "The Aspern Papers." + + Kipling: "The Phantom Rickshaw." + + Poe: "The Black Cat;" "The Gold Bug." + + Stevenson: "The Bottle Imp." + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 18: "Literary Chat." _Munsey's Magazine._ May, '98.] + +[Footnote 19: "Misleading Titles of Books," by William Mathews. _The +Saturday Evening Post._ Apr. 21, 1900.] + + + + +V + +THE USE OF FACTS + + +All fiction is founded upon fact, for the boldest imagination must have +some definite point from which to take its flight; but the ungarnished +truth is seldom literature in itself, though it may offer excellent +material for literary embellishment. The amateur, content with knowing +that he is recounting what did actually happen, falls into the most +inartistic ways, because he does not understand that facts are properly +only crude material for the fictionist. + +The one place where the average short story writer should _not_ seek +his material is the world of literature. Almost from the time when +men first began to dabble in letters they have drawn on their +predecessors for their subject matter; but this practice has produced +a deal of unconscious plagiarism, which is responsible for most of +the conventional and stereotyped stories with which we are afflicted +to-day. Of any one hundred average stories submitted for sale, +probably seventy-five are damned by their hopelessly hackneyed +conception and treatment; and they suffer because the writer, reading +some attractive story built upon a similar plot, has attempted to go +and do likewise, and has unconsciously used all the conventional +parts while omitting the essential individuality. + +It is safe for the novice to go only to the world for literary material. +The matter so obtained will be intrinsically the same as that gained +from the writings of others, but the fact that you get your information +through your own senses will considerably obviate the danger of adopting +the conventional view in the matter. I do not mean to say that you +should deliberately set out to search for new types and incidents as +Dickens did, though I would certainly commend such a course; I mean +rather that you should be content to write of what you personally and +intimately know, and not attempt to treat of matters of which you have +only a vague superficial knowledge, or of which you are totally +ignorant. Excellent stories have been written by men who were personally +unacquainted with the matters with which they dealt, but they were in +every case masters of their art, who knew how to gain and use +second-hand information and how to supplement insufficient data with +literary skill. + +Too many novices have the mistaken idea that only those things which are +dim and distant are fit for artistic treatment. They have not cultivated +their powers of perception, and have failed to grasp the truth that +human nature is in most respects the same the world over, and that +persons and places, apparently the most ordinary, have stories to tell. +Before Mary E. Wilkins began to write her New England tales few thought +to look to those bleak hills and commonplace people for literary +material; and doubtless many New Englanders, feeling the impulse to +write, viewed with scorn their unpoetic surroundings and longed for the +glamour of some half-guessed clime; Miss Wilkins, appreciating her +environment, won fame and fortune through her truthful depictions of +those things which others, equally able to write but less able to see, +had despised. + +It is a common trick of aspiring writers to locate their stories in +England, to speak proudly but uncertainly of grand estates, noble +castles, and haughty lords and ladies, and to make mistakes which would +be ridiculous were they not so inexcusable. There is a certain +half-feudal glamour about England yet which appeals strongly to the +callow author: it lends that rosy haze of romance and unreality which is +popularly associated with fiction; but it was long ago done to death by +mediocre writers and laughed out of good literary society, and to-day +America will not suffer any such hackneyed fol-de-rol. + +Similarly the amateur will locate his story in the "best" society of +some American metropolis, when he has never been out of his native +village, and knows nothing of the class with which he deals except +through the society column of his newspaper. Therefore he will of course +"fall flat when he attempts to delineate manners. It is too evident that +he has not had the _entree_ to the circle he would describe: his +gentlemen commit too many blunders, his ladies are from the wrong side +of the town, the love-passages are silly and vulgar, the whole result is +stupid and offensive--to those who know. The thing hopelessly lacks +tone; it might pass below stairs, but not in the drawing-room."[20] It +is not only those of wealth and leisure who are eligible for literary +purposes; indeed, their lives, apparently so gay and exciting, are often +a dull and regular series of attempts to kill the dawdling time. If the +young writer would look into the lives of his own simple neighbors he +would find much better matter for his intended stories. + +Again, the novice, in his search for something different, will place his +tale in the dim and distant past, when all men were brave and all women +lovely; and in so doing will expose himself to ridicule and contempt for +his evident ignorance of the matters of which he pretends to treat. It +is very probable that any age seems dull and commonplace to those who +live in it, for "familiarity breeds contempt" for almost anything; but +though we of to-day have no valiant knights, armed cap-a-pie, riding +forth to the jousts to do battle for their ladies fair, we have men just +as brave and deeds fully as valorous and far more sensible; and the +world is, and always will be, full of noble and romantic and marvelous +things. + +If, however, you feel that you must write of times and scenes and +peoples which are either past or foreign, it is your first duty to +inform yourself to the best of your ability concerning them. I do not +believe that any writer can successfully locate his story in a foreign +country unless he has personal knowledge of the scenes and persons +that he describes, or unless he is thoroughly versed in the language +and literature of the country--and in the latter case he would +probably be too pedantic to write readable stories. At first thought +it does not seem so difficult to handle English subjects, for there we +have the advantage of a common language and, to a considerable extent, +of common racial traits; but even that common language, as spoken on +the other side of the Atlantic, has an every-day vocabulary differing +from ours, and the English government and social system present +difficulties almost insurmountable to one who cannot study them face +to face. In dealing with themes of the past there is more opportunity. +There we are all on the common ground of an absolute dependence on +such books as may preserve for us pictures of those times, and +complete information--complete, at least, in the sense that no one +knows more--can be had at the price of a certain number of hours of +painstaking study. If, then, you desire to write of the days that are +gone, see to it that you first thoroughly acquaint yourself with the +history of those times. There are few towns too small to possess a +library, and few libraries too small to contain such historical books +as you may need. + +In these days when all things come to Mohamet, the writer may gain a +valuable though impersonal insight into the world at large through +the medium of the public press. The newspapers of to-day are full of +incipient plots, needing only the skillful pen to make them +literature. Reporters go everywhere and see everything, and they +place the result of their multifarious labors in your hands every +morning. They recount actual happenings accurately enough for +literary purposes, they strain for the unusual side of things, and +their purpose is too different from yours to make you liable to the +charge of plagiarism if you rework their material. The receptive +perusal of any newspaper ought to furnish the reader with a fresh +stock of literary material. Such matter is particularly valuable to +the short story writer because of the present and ever increasing +demand for stories of the day, plots, characters, situations, and +local color for which may be culled from any newspaper. + +But short story writing is an art, and all facts may not be capable of +literary treatment. "Even actual occurrences may be improper subjects +for fiction. Nature can take liberties with facts that art dare not--a +truth that has passed into a proverb.... Art may fill us with anger, +fear, terror, awe, but the moment it condescends to excite disgust, it +passes out of the realm of art."[21] "There seems no reason why the +artist should not choose any subject, if the production itself +contributes to the satisfaction of the world, making a picture of life, +or of a phase of life, in compliance with the demands of art, beauty, +and truth. Taste is the arbiter of the subject, for taste is always +moral, always on the side of the angels. There are certain things which +are only subjects for technical reform, for the sanitary inspector, and +for the physician--not for the novelist."[22] "The carnage of a +battle-field, the wrecked cafe or theatre after dynamite has done its +work, had best be handled sparingly.... A good many things that happen +on this planet are not good subjects for art: the pathetic (within +limits) is always in order, but not the shocking. Moral are worse than +physical horrors."[23] "Even genius may waste itself on an unmanageable +theme; it cannot make the cleaning of fish interesting, nor the slums +of New York or Paris attractive."[24] + +It is rare indeed that a fact can be used without embellishment. Mere +facts are frequently most unliterary, though they may be susceptible +of a high literary polish. The sub-title "A True Story," which young +writers think so valuable a part of the tale, is too often the +trademark of an unreadable mess of conventional people, ordinary +incidents and commonplace conversation. We find few genuinely true +stories, and when we do find them we seldom care to read them +through. I have read many stories which I knew to be literally true, +because they contained so much of the hackneyed and the irrelevant. +Life itself is a very conventional affair; it abounds with dull +events and stupid people; and for that reason alone fiction would +demand something out of the common. Commonplace persons and +commonplace things do appear in literature, but they must have +something more than their commonplaceness to recommend them. + +"The novice in story telling ... has heard that truth is stranger than +fiction, and supposes that the more truth he can get into his tale the +stronger and more effective it will be.... Truth, _i. e._, reality, is +very seldom strange; it is usually tame and flat and commonplace; and +when it is strange it is apt to be grotesque and repulsive. Most of the +experiences of daily life afford material only for a chronicle of +dulness; and most of the 'strange' or unusual happenings had better be +left to the newspaper and the records of the police courts. This +statement may be strengthened. Does not the able reporter select and +decorate his facts, suppressing some, emphasizing others, arranging his +'story' with reference to picturesqueness and effect? + +"In other words, verisimilitude, not verity, is wanted in fiction. The +observer notes his facts, and then the artist seizes on the ideas behind +them, the types they represent, the spiritual substances they embody. +The result, when all goes well, is as lifelike as life itself, though it +is not a copy of anything (in detail) that really lives.... The budding +writer of fictitious tales must be familiar with facts, at least in his +own range: he must know life and nature, or his work is naught. But when +he has this knowledge, he must put the facts in the background of his +mind.... Real incidents, dragged against their will into an (alleged) +imaginary narrative, are apt by no means to improve it, but to sound as +'flat and untunable' as our own praises from our own mouths."[25] + +"There must be no misconception about great fiction being a transcript +of life. Mere transcription is not the work of an artist, else we should +have no need of painters, for photographers would do; no poems, for +academical essays would do; no great works of fiction, for we have our +usual sources of information--if information is all we want--the Divorce +Court, the Police Court, the Stock Exchange, the Young Ladies' Seminary, +the Marriage Register, and the House of Parliament--those happy +hunting-grounds of sensation-mongers and purveyors of melodrama. All +these things certainly contain the facts of life which one must know for +the constructive work of the imagination, for they are the rough +material, the background of knowledge from which the illusion of real +life must proceed. But they are not life, though they are the +transcription of life. The human significance of facts is all that +concerns one. The inwardness of facts makes fiction; the history of +life, its emotions, its passions, its sins, reflections, values. These +you cannot photograph nor transcribe. Selection and rejection are two +profound essentials of every art, even of the art of fiction, though it +be so jauntily practised by the amateur."[26] + +And even if the facts which you purpose to use are of undoubted value +for artistic treatment, there may be other reasons which make their +use questionable. In the first place, people do not really prefer +truth to fiction. They require plausibility, but they are all too +familiar with life themselves, and in the idle hours in which they +turn to fiction they desire to be lifted out of reality into the +higher realm of fancy. Nor will they, even in the form of fiction, +tolerate what seems like too gross an invasion of the privacy of the +home, or the sanctity of the soul of a man. They must always feel +vaguely that the suffering characters are really only puppets created +for their amusement, or their pity for the characters will develop +into anger and disgust for the author. + +In using facts, then, the first thing to learn is what to suppress and +what to elaborate, and that involves that most necessary possession of +the story teller, a sense of proportion. Because a conversation about +the weather occupies two dull people for ten minutes is no reason that +it should receive an equal number of pages; and because an important +event is almost instantaneous is no excuse for passing it with a single +line. Again, the fact that you are relating what actually occurred does +not relieve you of the necessity of making it plausible. Painters +acknowledge that there are color combinations in nature which they dare +not reproduce, lest they be dubbed unnatural; and similarly things exist +which the writer may present only after he has most carefully prepared +the way for their credence. The truth is that we have declared that even +nature shall conform to certain conventions, and we reject as impossible +any deviations from our preconceived ideas. + +The facts upon which Hawthorne built "The Ambitious Guest" are +these:--The White Hills of which he speaks (¶ 1) are the famous White +Mountains of New Hampshire; the Notch (¶ 1) is the real name of a real +mountain pass, which is just as he describes it; the Flume (¶ 22) is a +waterfall not far from the Notch; the valley of the Saco (¶ 1) is really +where he places it. The references to Portland (¶ 3), Bartlett (¶ 5), +Burlington (¶ 7), Bethlehem and Littleton (¶ 18) are all references to +real places in the vicinity. At the point where Hawthorne locates his +story there actually was a mountain tavern called the Willey House, and +a modern inn stands on the spot to-day. Concerning the catastrophe which +he describes I found the following account: + + "Some time in June--before the great 'slide' in August, + 1826--there came a great storm, and the old veteran, Abel + Crawford, coming down the Notch, noticed the trees slipping + down, standing upright, and, as he was passing Mr. Willey's he + called and informed him of the wonderful fact. Immediately, in a + less exposed place, Mr. Willey prepared a shelter to which to + flee in case of immediate danger; and in the night of August + 28th, that year, he was, with his family, awakened by the + thundering crash of the coming avalanche. Attempting to escape, + that family, nine in number, rushed from the house and were + overtaken and buried alive under a vast pile of rocks, earth, + trees and water. By a remarkable circumstance the house remained + uninjured, as the slide divided about four rods back of the + house (against a high flat rock), and came down on either side + with overwhelming power."[27] + +The book goes on to state further that the family consisted of the +father and mother, five children--the eldest a girl of thirteen--and two +hired men. The bodies of the parents, the oldest and youngest children, +and the two hired men were found. + +It is probable that Hawthorne derived his information from the +newspapers, though he may have heard the story by word of mouth, for +there is little doubt that he actually visited the spot where the +catastrophe occurred. But the bald facts of the case, however gained, +are essentially as we have them here, and that is sufficient for our +purpose. + +In writing his story Hawthorne took several liberties with the facts. +He made no change in the location because even he could not improve +upon the scene for such a story. He changed the month from August to +September (¶ 1) to make plausible, perhaps, the rain necessary for such +a slide, and to make seasonable the bitter wind which he introduces. He +omitted all names to add to the air of unsolved mystery that haunts the +story. He introduced the guest (¶ 4) and the grandmother (¶ 1), increased +the age of the daughter (¶ 1), retained the parents and younger children +(¶ 1) and omitted the hired men to suit the requirements of his story. He +omitted the warning but retained the establishment of a place of refuge +(¶ 9) to heighten the climax. He used the flight from the house (¶ 42) +because it just suited his purpose. He retained the strange preservation +of the house (¶ 42) to increase the air of mystery, and to intensify the +tragedy by making it appear in a manner unnecessary. He suppressed the +finding of any of the bodies (¶ 42) to aid the plausibility of his +narrative, and to increase the pathos of the guest's death. + +Compare carefully the account given by Spaulding and the story of +Hawthorne, for you have here an excellent illustration of the difference +between the commonplace recital of facts and their transformation into a +work of art. Spaulding's relation is a true story, but Hawthorne's is +literature. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 20: "Bad Story-Telling," by Frederick M. Bird. _Lippincott's._ +Oct., '97.] + +[Footnote 21: "Rudimentary Suggestions for Beginners in Story Writing," +by E. F. Andrews. _Cosmopolitan._ Feb., '97.] + +[Footnote 22: "The Art of Fiction." A lecture by Gilbert Parker. _The +Critic._ Dec., '98.] + +[Footnote 23: "Magazine Fiction and How Not to Write It," by Frederick +M. Bird. _Lippincott's._ Nov., '94.] + +[Footnote 24: "Bad Story-Telling," by Frederick M. Bird. _Lippincott's_, +Oct., '97.] + +[Footnote 25: "Fact in Fiction," by Frederick M. Bird. _Lippincott's_, +July, '95.] + +[Footnote 26: "The Art of Fiction." A lecture by Gilbert Parker. _The +Critic._ Dec., '98.] + +[Footnote 27: "Historical Relics of the White Mountains," by John H. +Spaulding. (Boston, 1855.) "Destruction of the Willey Family," page 58.] + + + + +VI + +THE CHARACTERS + + +It is the tritest sort of a truism to say that the characters in a story +are important, for stories are stories only in so far as they reflect +life, and life is impossible without human actors. It is the hopes and +fears, the joys and sorrows, the sins and moral victories of men that +interest us. We men are a conceited lot, and find nothing of interest +except as it relates to us. Thus in the most ingenious stories, where +some marvelous invention or discovery is introduced, the interest +centers, not in the wondrous things themselves, but in their influence +on the people of the story; and in the few stories where a beast or a +thing plays the hero, it is always given human attributes. + +Fictitious characters, like the plots that they develop, are based +primarily on fact, and they further resemble the plots in being +different phases of a primal idea, rather than intrinsically diverse. +We find many characters in fiction--Miss Wilkins' stories are full +of them--which are evidently meant to be realistic, and which impress +us as word photographs of existing persons; yet it is improbable that +they are exact reproductions. A real person ordinarily has too much +of the commonplace and conventional about him to serve in fiction, +where--despite the apparent paradox--a character must be exaggerated +to appear natural. A person in fiction is at the best but a blur of +hieroglyphics on a sheet of paper, and can be comprehended only +through the mentality of the author; therefore his description, his +actions, his words, his very thoughts must be made so unnaturally +striking that through the sense of sight alone they will stimulate +the imagination and produce the effect which actual contact with the +real person would induce. The character which seems most real is +usually a composite of the most striking characteristics of several +real persons. To this source of fictitious characters is due the fact +that a literary puppet is often thought to be the reproduction of +several very different real persons; for the reader, recognizing a +particular trait which is characteristic of some one of his +acquaintance, thinks that he recognizes the character. + +"While the popular idea that every creature of the novelist's +imagination has a definite original somewhere among his acquaintances +is, of course, egregiously false, it has yet this much of truth, +that they are, to a large extent, suggestions from life. Not one +person, but half a dozen, often sit as models for the same picture, +while the details are filled out by the writer's imagination. There +are few people in real life sufficiently interesting or uncommonplace +to suit the novelist's purpose, but he must idealize or intensify +them before they are fit subjects for art. Dickens intensified to the +verge of the impossible, yet we never feel that Dick Swiveller and +Sam Weller and Mr. Micawber, and the rest of them, are unnatural; +they are only, if I may coin the word, 'hypernatural.' It is the +business of art to idealize. Even at its best art is so inferior to +nature, that in order to produce the same impression it has to +intensify its effects; to deepen the colors, heighten the contrasts, +omit an object here, exaggerate an outline there, and so on, until it +has produced the proper picturesque effect."[28] + +A careful description of the appearance of the characters may be +necessary to the understanding of the story, as in Irving's perfect +picture of Ichabod Crane in "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow"; but in our +model the people are rather typical than individual, and Hawthorne +devotes but little space to their external characteristics. A word or +a phrase suffices to tell us all that is necessary to enable our +minds to body them forth. Even the hero is outwardly distinguished +only by a melancholy expression--a slight of which no school-girl +"authoress" would have been guilty. It is more often necessary to +give the mental characteristics of the puppets, and in "The Ambitious +Guest" we have a deal of such detail concerning the young stranger; +but here, too, you must exercise forbearance, as Hawthorne did in his +partial analysis of the other characters. + +It is by no means essential that the personages of a short story be +attractive in person or in character. The taste of readers used to be so +artificial that no romancer would have dared to present a heroine who +was not perfect in face and figure, or a hero who was not an Apollo for +manly beauty; but in these more practical days we have substituted good +deeds for good looks and have made our characters more human--our men +more manly and our women more womanly; and we exalt them now for heroic +acts, rather than heroic mould. + +A mistake which it seems hard for the novice to avoid is that of telling +everything possible about a character and leaving nothing to the +imagination of the reader. This exhaustive method leads to a +multiplicity of detail which verges on baldness, and which is very apt +to contain considerable irrelevant matter; the details are usually +arranged with little regard for their true value; and the intended +description becomes a mere catalogue of personal charms. For example, in +these three descriptions, detailed though they are, there is nothing to +distinguish the particular person described from the scores of other +people possessing the same general traits: + + He was a tall, deep-chested, broad-shouldered man, having a + light complexion, dark moustache, hair and eyes. + + We will take a look at our heroine, as she sits lazily rocking, + the sunshine touching her hair. She is of medium height, with + black hair and eyes and a winning smile that makes friends for + her everywhere. + + Lura was yet but a slight school girl; she was now fifteen and + equally as large as Grace. She looked very beautiful as she came + out to meet Grace and Mrs. Morton, on their return from the + village. Her dark brown hair had been carefully combed back, + but the short locks had fallen and formed in ringlets about the + snowy neck and face. Her large gray eyes were bright. Her full + curved lips were red, and in laughing and talking revealed two + rows of small, even, pearly white teeth. Her cheeks were round + and well formed; although at the present time they bore no marks + of roses, they were generally rosy. The gray eyes, by the + changing of the expression, often became almost black and + greatly completed her beauty. + +Clever character depiction consists in selecting and presenting only +those salient details which will serve to body forth rather a vague +image, which shall yet possess a definite personality, to which the +reader may give such distinctness as his imagination may impart to the +hints offered. It is in a manner building a complete character upon a +single characteristic, after the familiar method of Dickens. It is this +impressionistic method which is most used by masters to picture those +characters which seem to us real persons. + +In "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow," Irving thus describes the hero (?), +Ichabod Crane, and the heroine, Katrina Van Tassel: + + The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person. He was + tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms + and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet + that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame most + loosely hung together. His head was small, and flat at the top, + with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a long snipe nose, + so that it looked like a weather-cock, perched upon his spindle + neck, to tell which way the wind blew. To see him striding along + the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging + and fluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the + genius of famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow + eloped from a cornfield. + + She was a blooming lass of fresh eighteen, plump as a partridge, + ripe and melting and rosy-cheeked as one of her father's + peaches, and universally famed, not merely for her beauty, but + her vast expectations. She was withal a little of a coquette, as + might be perceived even in her dress, which was a mixture of + ancient and foreign fashions, as most suited to set off her + charms. She wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold which her + great-great-grandmother had brought over from Saardam, the + tempting stomacher of the olden time, and withal a provokingly + short petticoat to display the prettiest foot and ankle in the + country round. + +Here are Hawthorne's pictures of Beatrice and her father in +"Rappaccini's Daughter": + + On again beholding Beatrice the young man was even startled to + perceive how much her beauty exceeded his recollection of it--so + brilliant, so vivid in its character, that she glowed amid the + sunlight, and, as Giovanni whispered to himself, positively + illuminated the more shadowy intervals of the garden path. Her + face being now more revealed than on the former occasion, he was + struck by its expression of simplicity and sweetness--qualities + that had not entered into his idea of her character, and which + made him ask anew what manner of mortal she might be. Nor did he + fail again to observe or imagine an analogy between the + beautiful girl and the gorgeous shrub that hung its gem-like + flowers over the fountain--a resemblance which Beatrice seemed + to have indulged a fantastic humor in heightening both by the + arrangement of her dress and the selection of its hues. + + His figure soon emerged into view, and showed itself to be that + of no common laborer, but a tall, emaciated, sallow and + sickly-looking man dressed in a scholar's garb of black. He was + beyond the middle term of life, with gray hair, and a thin gray + beard and a face singularly marked with intellect and + cultivation, but which could never, even in his more youthful + days, have expressed much warmth of heart. + +And this is the way Dickens sets forth Scrooge, the old miser, in "A +Christmas Carol": + + Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a + squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, + old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had + ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and + solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old + features, nipped his pointed nose, shrivelled his cheek, + stiffened his gait, made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and + spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on + his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his + own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in + the dog-days; and didn't thaw it one degree at Christmas. + +There is very little of the catalogue style of description here; indeed, +the characters can hardly be said to be described: the author gives +rather the sensations which they produced on observers and so excites +similar sensations in the mind of the reader. + +When once introduced the characters should be allowed to work out +their identities with the least possible interference from the +author. Their characteristics must not be listed like invoices of +goods: they must themselves display the psychological powers with +which they were endowed by their creator. Their speeches and actions +must seem the results of mental processes, and must appear natural, +if not logical; indeed, it is an open question if they can be both at +once, for there are few people who are always logical. One good +method of presenting the characteristics of a fictitious personage is +to indulge in a bit of mind reading, and give his thoughts as he +thinks them; another and better way is to show the man actuated by +his dominant mental qualities. In "The Cask of Amontillado" Poe +builds a whole story on an elaboration of the latter method, and +presents the picture of a man temporarily mastered by the spirit of +revenge. It is only by thus allowing the characters to work out their +own destinies that you can make them real; otherwise they will appear +as mere painted puppets, without life or volition. + +On account of the technical limitations of the short story the number +of characters which may have principal or "speaking" parts is very +small--in general only two, and frequently but one. There are usually +other characters present to help out the action, but they are merely +supernumeraries, without form, life or influence. There are many +violations of this rule, I admit, among them such stories as +Hawthorne's "The Great Stone Face," "The Seven Vagabonds," and "The +Great Carbuncle;" but analysis shows them to be panoramic or episodic +in effect, and really violating the unity of action which the short +story demands. For similar reasons the characters presented must be +unnaturally isolated, with little past and less future, and most +strangely lacking in relatives; for the few thousand words of the +short story permit but a cursory treatment of the ancestry, birth, +breeding and family of the one or two important characters. If by any +trick they can be made the last of a long line, and be snatched from +obscurity into the momentary glare of the lime light, so much the +better for author, reader and character; but if some portion of their +history bears upon the story, let it be presented by subtle touches, +preferably by references in the dialogue, so that the reader obtains +the necessary knowledge without being conscious of the means. + +The few real characters in the story must be made unusually interesting +on account of their loneliness. They compose the story, they represent +the human race, and if they fail us we are in sad straits. They must +be individual; they must stand out sharply from the page, clear and +attractive, and leave no doubt of their personalities. More than any +other form of fiction, the short story depends upon its hero and +heroine, who have "star parts" and monopolize the stage of action. We +must see them so vividly that when they speak and act we shall perceive +them as actual personages. It is such accuracy of depiction that makes +Rip Van Winkle, Sherlock Holmes, Van Bibber, and a host of others enter +into our thoughts and speech as if they had really lived. + +The names with which we label these dolls may be of importance. In these +days names have little significance, yet we still feel that a name from +its very sound may be appropriate or otherwise, and no careful writer +would give to his characters appellations selected at random. Names are +frequently used to good advantage as aids to character depiction or to +enhance humorous effects, as in the case of Hawthorne's Feathertop and +Monsieur du Miroir, and Irving's Ichabod Crane, and in many other +instances familiar to readers of Dickens. + +"Dickens's names are marvelously apt, as we see from the passing into +common phrase of so many of them. Not a few have become synonyms for the +kind of character to which they were attached.... If a name is to hint +at character it should do so in the subtlest manner possible--in a +manner so subtle as to escape all but the quickwitted, who will forgive +the inartistic method in their pride at being so clever as to detect the +writer's intention.... In these days, when craftsmanship is cared for +and looked for more than ever, ... novelists must sacrifice nothing +that will lend a trick of reality to their imaginings. If they take any +pains to select names for their characters they should hit upon such as +will be seen to suit them when their books have been read (like Sir +Willoughby Patterne or Gabriel Oak); names that attempt with clumsy +impertinence to give a clew to character at the outset are best left to +the inept amateur of letters who has not wit enough to dispense with +such aid. + +"To be avoided, also, are out-of-the-way names that may have living +owners in the real world. No John Smith or Tom Jones can complain if +writers christen their characters after them; but if a man owns a +peculiar name he dislikes having it borrowed and attached to some figure +in fiction whose proceedings very likely do it little credit.... Every +writer must know the satisfaction that comes when an 'exquisitely right' +name is hit upon. But it is just as well to take reasonable precautions +to avoid indignant protests such as that which Hawthorne drew upon +himself"[29] for his use of the name Judge Pyncheon in "The House of +the Seven Gables." + +The dramatic trend of the short story is responsible for its tendency +to advance action by speech. Good short stories have been written and +will be written which contain little or no dialogue; they succeed +through vividness of plot, skill in character depiction, ingenuity of +construction, or some such quality; but they would be more interesting +and more natural if they held more conversation. A short story should +be full of talk of the proper kind; there are few people who preserve +silence at all times, and in the exciting moments which a short story +usually presents, most persons would find tongue to voice their teeming +thoughts. Speech adds naturalness and vividness to the actors, it lends +them a personal interest, it gives insight into character, and it aids +the development of the plot. + +This is a modern tendency, for the stories of Kipling, Stevenson, +Wilkins, Davis and Doyle contain much more of the conversational element +than those of Poe, Hawthorne or Irving. Where the latter would present a +mental struggle or a crisis by some paragraphs of description, the +former express it in the short exciting words of the actors themselves; +even soliloquies and asides and other of the most mechanical devices of +the drama are forced into the service of the short story, to replace the +long explanatory passages such as were used by Irving. It has been +predicted that in the short story of the future the characters will be +briefly introduced and then will be allowed to speak for themselves; if +this prophecy comes true we shall have stories similar to Hope's "The +Dolly Dialogues," or Howells' little dramas, where there is almost no +comment by the author. It is more probable, though, that there is +something of a "fad" in the present liking for pure dialogue, and that +the short story will never attain the absolute purity of the drama. + +If these fictitious personages are to talk, however, they must talk +naturally and interestingly--and "there's the rub!" As in real life a +man often shows himself to be a fool when he begins to talk, so in +fiction a character frequently proves to be but a poor puppet of +straw when he opens his mouth. The only way to make your characters +talk naturally is to imitate the speech of the persons whom they in +some degree represent. People in general do not talk by book: they +use colloquial language, full of poor grammar, slang, and syncopated +words; and their sentences are neither always logical nor complete. +In reproducing this, however, you must "edit" it a little, using your +own judgment as to which are the characteristic idioms; for the +speech of the people in books is admittedly a little better than in +real life--except in dialect stories, where it is usually worse; and +you must avoid equally the heavy rhetorical style of the extreme +romantic school, and the inane commonplaces of the radical realists. + +Conversation like the following is commonly termed "bookish"; it is +painfully correct and laboriously profound--but it is not natural. If it +were meant for a burlesque upon polite and "cultured" society it would +be exquisite, but it is the manner in which the writer believes people +really talk, though it is easy to guess that he himself is far from such +absurd affectations in his familiar speech. + + "By way of preliminary, I have to say that my name is + Athlee--Felix Athlee, and yours is Miss India Lemare. I've seen + you before." + + "In the flesh, I hope," she answered. + + "Yes, I like you better that way, though you now wear the + expression of one older in years and experience. Wherefore, may + I ask?" + + "Shadows fall on the young as well as the old. One is fortunate, + indeed, to keep always in the sunshine." + + "And flit like the butterfly, without volition or effort? Human + appointments are different. Work is the inevitable, and with + the proper tools, it is pleasant enough." + + "They must, long ago, have rusted, for the want of use." + + "No, we have simply to consider our specialty and we find them + ready at hand. Have you done so?" + + "I am dazed, and my brain works capriciously." + + "Except in the interest of your desires. What are they?" + + "Wealth for independence, leisure for indulgence, and fame, the + outcome of talent." + + His luminous eyes looked out over the water, as he said: "The + universal hunt of mankind is for happiness, and he searches for + it in as many ways as there are peculiarities of disposition. + Does he ever really find it? Many weary hearts are covered with + the soft down of wealth. Mischief lurks in indulgence, and fame + dazzles but to elude. It is wiser to accept what the gods give, + and use the gifts for the betterment of others as well as + ourselves." + + "Meaningless words, when one is at enmity with the gods for + withholding. What fine spun theories we mortals have!" + +To the listener every conversation contains a deal of commonplace: it +may be that the speakers really have nothing interesting to say, and it +may be that their conversation is so personal as to interest themselves +only. The reader occupies the position of a listener, and it is the +duty of the author to suppress all commonplace dialogue, unless, as +sometimes happens, it assists in plot or character development. +Conversation like the following is--let us hope--interesting to the +parties concerned, but the reader would be delivered from it as from +a plague. + + "I am so glad to get _one_ desire of my heart." + + "And that is?" said Al. + + "Snow!" + + "So glad that is all. I thought you had spied my new tie and was + planning some 'crazy design' upon it." + + "Oh, let me see! Now, really, that is becoming to your style, + but I think it would suit mine better. 'Brown eyes and black + hair should never wear blue--that is for grey eyes, the tried + and true.' See?" + + "Neither the eyes nor the tie," said Al, as he turned his back + and looked up at the ceiling. + +The real difficulty with this dialogue is that the writer attempted to +make his characters "smart" and so permitted them to indulge in +repartee; but as they were only commonplace people the privilege was too +much for them and they merely twaddled. They did succeed in being +humorous, but the humor is unconscious. + +Yet unconscious humor is preferable to the forced and desperate attempt +at fun-making which we have in this extract: + + "I don't believe he is proud," said Joe to Tom, his younger + brother. "But you know he has been to the Holy Land and cannot + now associate with such wicked sinners as we are. Or else he has + turned Jew and thinks we are Samaritans." + + "You two are getting no better fast," said the doctor, after a + hearty laugh. "Wait until you get sick, I'll give you a pill + that will make you repent." + + "We are never going to get sick," said Joe, "but expect to live + until we are so old that we will dry up and blow away with the + wind, or go to heaven in a 'Chariot of Fire.'" Turning to the + doctor Joe continued: "You know Will has a girl, and he is awful + pious. If one looks off his book in church, even to wink at his + best girl, he thinks it an awful sin. And that the guilty one + should be dipped in holy water, or do penitence for a week." + +It is a common trick for the novice to put into the mouths of his +characters just such stale jokes and cheap jests, with the idea that he +is doing something extremely funny. He is, but his audience is laughing +at him, not at his characters. + +But most exasperating of all is the author who, while making his +characters suffer the most dreadful afflictions, lets them think and +talk only commonplaces still, like the poor sawdust dolls that they +are: + + "What is the matter with you, Annie?" I said one day, about five + months after she had come home.... + + "You will know some time, Cicely," she answered.... + + "Why can't you tell me now?" I asked. + + "You will know soon enough," she answered. "By the by," she went + on, "I am going to Mr. Denham's to-morrow." + + "Alone?" + + "No, I am going with Cousin Ivan." + + "When will you be back?" I asked, for Mr. Denham lived twenty + miles away. + + "I don't know," she answered sadly. + + The next morning I went over to see Annie off. I had been there + but a few minutes when her cousin, Ivan Carleon, came. He was + about six feet high, with dark, brown eyes, and black hair and + moustache. He was a quiet man and I liked him. When they got + ready to start, Annie came and kissed me. + + "I am ready now, Ivan." And then he helped her into the buggy, + and they drove off. + + Two days afterwards, as I was sitting under the shade of a tree, + where Annie and I had played when we were small, Miss Jones, an + old school fellow, came along. + + "Have you heard the news?" she asked, before she had got up to + me. + + "What news?" + + "Why, Ivan Carleon has killed Annie." + + "Explain yourself, Daisy," I answered anxiously. + + "Well," she said, "we ain't sure Ivan killed her; but every one + thinks so. You know that big gate, about a mile this side of + Mr. Denham's? Well, day before yesterday Ivan came running up to + Mr. Denham, and said that Annie had shot herself, down at the + big gate. They all went down and found Annie stone dead. A note + in her pocket merely stated that she was tired of life. But + every one thinks Ivan killed her, and that he wrote the note + himself. I hope Ivan didn't do it," she said, as she started + off, "for I liked him." + + The evening of the third day, as I was sitting under the same + tree, I was startled to feel a hand on my shoulder. Looking up, + I saw Ivan Carleon standing by my side. I gave a low cry, and + shrank from him. He turned pale to his lips. + + "Surely you don't think I murdered her?" he said. + + "I don't know what to think," I answered, bursting into tears. + + "Sit down and tell me all about it," I continued, moving for him + on the bench. + + He sat down beside me; and laid his head in his hands. + +Imagine, if you can, the bearer of terrible news who would unburden +herself with as little excitement as Miss Jones exhibits; or a real girl +who, on hearing of the tragic death of her bosom friend, would be merely +"anxious" and bid her informant "Explain yourself!" The author of this +could not have had the slightest conception of the tragedy which he had +created, or even his poor lifeless puppets must have been galvanized +into some show of real feeling. + +It is neither necessary nor desirable that you should report every +conversation at length, even though it bear upon the story. Do not +reproduce long conversations simply to say something or to air your +views on current topics. It is just as much a fault to introduce useless +chatter as it is to fill page after page with descriptions of unused +places. If the hero and the heroine, by a brief bright conversation, can +put the reader in possession of the facts concerning the course of their +true love, they should be given free speech; but if they show a tendency +to moralize or prose or talk an "infinite deal of nothing," shut them up +and give the gist of their dialogue in a few succinct sentences of your +own. Note how in ¶ 10, 11 Hawthorne has condensed the conversation which +doubtless occurred at the supper table, and has given us the salient +points without the commonplaces that it must have contained: + + He was of a proud yet gentle spirit, haughty and reserved among + the rich and great, but ever ready to stoop his head to the + lowly cottage door and be like a brother or a son at the poor + man's fireside.... He had traveled far and alone; his whole + life, indeed, had been a solitary path, for, with the lofty + caution of his nature, he had kept himself apart from those who + might otherwise have been his companions.... + + The secret of the young man's character was a high and + abstracted ambition. He could have borne to live an + undistinguished life, but not to be forgotten in the grave. + +and how in ¶ 13 he has given us the trend of the young man's rhapsody, +instead of wearying us with what was probably rather a long and tiresome +speech: + + There was a continual flow of natural emotion gushing forth amid + abstracted reverie which enabled the family to understand this + young man's sentiment, though so foreign from their own. + +One form of the talkative short story that forms a serious stumbling +block to the novice is the dialect story. If you have an idea of trying +that style of composition, let me warn you: Don't! Dialect stories never +were very artistic, for they are a paradoxical attempt to make good +literature of poor rhetoric and worse grammar. They have never been +recognized or written by any great master of fiction. They are a sign of +a degenerate taste, and their production or perusal is a menace to the +formation and preservation of a good literary style. They are merely a +fad, which is already of the past; and to-day public and publisher turn +in nausea from a mess of dialect which yesterday they would have +greedily devoured; so that now there is even no pecuniary excuse for +dialect stories. They were doomed to an ephemeral existence, for what +little charm they ever possessed was based upon the human craving for +something odd and new; the best stories of Barrie and Maclaren live +because of their intense human feeling, and they would have succeeded as +well and endured longer if they had been clothed in literary English. + +"That there is good in dialect none may deny; but that good is only when +it chances, as rarely, to be good dialect; when it is used with just +discretion and made the effect of circumstances naturally arising, not +the cause and origin of the circumstance itself. When the negro, the +'cracker' or the mountaineer dialect occurs naturally in an American +story, it often gives telling effects of local color and of shading. But +the negro or 'cracker' story _per se_ can be made bearable only by the +pen of a master; and even then it may be very doubtful if that same pen +had not proved keener in portraiture, more just to human nature in the +main, had the negro or the 'cracker' been the mere episode, acting on +the main theme, and itself reacted on by that."[30] + +Study carefully, as models of good character analysis and presentation, +Stevenson's "Markheim;" Hawthorne's "The Great Stone Face;" Ichabod +Crane in Irving's "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow;" Poe's "William Wilson;" +Louisa Ellis in Wilkins' "A New England Nun;" Van Bibber in Davis' "Van +Bibber and Others;" Henry St. George in James' "The Lesson of the +Master." + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 28: "Rudimentary Suggestions for Beginners in Story Writing," +by E. F. Andrews. _Cosmopolitan._ Feb., '97.] + +[Footnote 29: "Names in Fiction," by H. H. F. _Literature._ Jan. 19, +'99.] + +[Footnote 30: "The Day of Dialect," by T. C. De Leon. _Lippincott's._ +Nov., '97.] + + + + +VII + +METHODS OF NARRATION + + +Not only must you have a story to tell, but you must tell it well. The +charm and interest of a story come not from the plot itself but from +your handling of it. The question of the proper method of narration is +to a considerable extent a matter of suitability--of giving the +narrative an appropriate setting; it is also a matter of the point of +view of the narrator--whether he is to tell the story as one of the +actors, or simply as an impersonal observer. A dozen master story +writers would tell the same tale in a dozen different ways, and each of +them would seem to be the right way; for each writer would view the +events from a particular angle, and would make his point of view seem +the natural one. But the novice is not always happy in his choice of a +view point; or rather, he lacks the knowledge and experience that would +teach him how to treat his subject from the particular side from which +he has chosen to consider it. Yet a capable and clever writer may +sometimes find himself puzzled to choose between a number of methods, +any one of which seems appropriate and any one of which he feels himself +competent to handle satisfactorily: the question is which one will be +for him the most successful method of exploiting his thoughts. + +That question should be settled with regard to the suitability of the +method to the matter of the story--and here suitability is synonymous +with naturalness. It must not be forgotten that story writing is only a +modern phase of the world-old custom of story telling, and that the +printed page should appear as natural and easy to the eye as the voice +would to the ear. When in the twilight the grandmother gathers the +children about her knee for a story, whether it be a bit of her own life +or a tale from a book, she does not strive after effect, but tells the +story simply and naturally, just as she knows it will best suit the +children. And so the story writer should tell his tale--so naturally and +easily that the reader will forget that he is gazing at the printed +page, and will believe himself a spectator at an actual scene in real +life. + +The great difficulty of the novice is to subordinate his own +personality. He knows that he must individualize his story, and that +that is best done by putting something of himself into it; and he does +not always understand that it is only his spirit that is wanted, and +that his body will be very much in the way. Then, too, he is apt to be a +little self-conscious, if not actually self-conceited, and he rather +likes the idea of putting himself into his work so thoroughly that the +reader must always be conscious of his presence. He likes to show his +superior knowledge and to take the reader into his confidence; so he +indulges in side remarks, and criticisms, and bits of moralizing, and in +general exhibits an exasperating tendency to consider himself and his +personal opinion of far greater importance than the story which he is +expected to tell. + +But above all things else the author must keep himself out of sight, and +must refrain from interpolating his opinions. He is supposed to be an +impersonal person, a human machine through the medium of which the story +is preserved, and he has no proper place in his narrative. One no more +expects or desires a speech from him than a sermon from a +penny-in-the-slot phonograph which has been paid for a comic song. He +may stand behind the scenes and manipulate the puppets and speak for +them, but his hand must be unseen, his voice carefully disguised, and +his personality imperceptible; no one cares for the man who makes the +Punch and Judy show--he is judged by the success of his imitation of +life, and his own appearance will speedily disillusionize his public. +Every time you address your public as "dear reader," "gentle +reader,"--or, as Mark Twain has it, "savage reader"--you force upon that +public a realization of your presence which is as disagreeable and +inartistic as the appearance of the Punch and Judy man, hat in hand, +seeking a few coppers in payment of the amusement he has provided. + +In the short story no personal confidences, moralizing comments, or +confessions are allowed. If you must express your opinions and make +your personality felt, write lectures, sermons, essays, books, letters +for the public press--but _don't_ write short stories. Men read short +stories to be amused, not instructed; and they will quickly revolt at +any attempt on your part to introduce into your narrative a sugar-coated +argument or sermon. + +There are certain methods of story telling much affected by the amateur +which are particularly difficult to do well. He should especially +eschew stories related in the first person, those told by letters, and +those in the form of a diary. Notice, I do not say that these methods +are absolutely bad: they have been successfully used by masters; but +they are at least questionable, and they contain so many pitfalls for +the unwary that it is far better for the uninitiated to let them +severely alone. + +Narrative in the first person gives a certain realism through the mere +use of the pronoun "I," and so excites some measure of the desired +personal interest; but the same result may be secured, without the +accompanying disadvantages, by making the characters do a good deal of +talking. That method escapes the danger of getting the narrator between +the story and the reader; for the puppet who "I's" his way through the +narrative is apt to be rather an important fellow, who intrudes on the +most private scenes, and who prefers moralizing and philosophizing to +the legitimate furthering of the plot; thus he runs no small risk of +making himself unpopular with the reader, and so proving of detriment +to the success of the story and of the author. + +Then, too, when the author is speaking in his own proper person the +reader cannot help wondering at times how one man could know so much +about what was going on, even if he were a veritable Paul Pry; while we +have become so used to granting the omniscience and omnipresence of the +invisible third person author that we never question his knowledge. If, +however, the hero-narrator attempt natural modesty and profess to but +slight information concerning the story, he is usually a most dull and +uninteresting fellow, who is endeavoring to relate a matter of which he +has missed the most essential parts. And at all times, though he be a +model in all other respects, the very fact that the hero is telling the +story lessens its interest, since no matter what harrowing experiences +he has suffered, he has come safely through; thus the narrative lacks +that anxiety for the hero's welfare which is so large a factor in the +delights of fiction. + +"It (first person narrative) is better adapted, no doubt, to adventure +than to analysis, and better to the expression of humour than to the +realization of tragedy. As far as the presentation of _character_ is +concerned, what it is usual for it to achieve ... is this: a life size, +full length, generally too flattering portrait of the hero of the +story--a personage who has the limelight all to himself--on whom no +inconvenient shadows are ever thrown; ... and then a further graceful +idealization, an attractive pastel, you may call it, the lady he most +frequently admired, and, of the remainder, two or three Kit-Cat +portraits, a head and shoulders here, and there a stray face."[31] + +Stories written in the epistolary or diary form suffer all the +disadvantages of first person narrative; but they are also liable to +others, equally serious, which are peculiarly their own. They are seldom +natural, in the first place, for granted that people really do keep +interesting diaries or write literary letters, it is rare in either case +that a story would be told with technical correctness. And such +narratives are usually poor in technique, for their form necessitates +the introduction of much that is commonplace or irrelevant, and it also +requires the passage of time and causes breaks in the thread of the +plot. These forms are favorites with the inexperienced because they seem +to dodge some of the difficulties that beset the way of the literary +aspirant. Their form is necessarily loose and disjointed, and their +style rambling and conversational, and these qualities are +characteristic of the work of novices. + +"But if fictitious letters are so seldom anything but tiresome, is this +because 'the age of letter writing is past?'... The unpopularity of the +epistolary form as a method of authorship is, in fact, due quite as much +to a change of taste as to the decay of letter writing. The old practice +was of a piece with the unrealities of the eighteenth century, both in +art and letters. It necessitated an abundance of superfluous detail, and +it was a roundabout, artificial way of doing what the true artist could +do much better, simply and directly. It gave, of course, an opportunity +of exhibiting subjectively many 'fine shades' of feeling. But it is +certainly much more difficult to carry conviction in inventing letters +for fictitious persons than in making them converse. In the latter case +there is a background; there is the life and movement of the various +characters, the spontaneity of question and reply, and the running +interchange of talk, all helping to keep a spell upon the reader. The +letter gives much less chance of illusion, and we may very soon become +conscious of the author--instead of the suffered correspondent--beating +his brains for something to say next."[32] + +Another poor method, indicative of callowness, is making the hero, so +to speak, an animal or a thing, and permitting it to tell its own +story. This has peculiar charm for the tyro because of its supposed +originality, but it is really as old as story telling itself. It +offends greatly against naturalness, for however one may believe in +the story of Balaam's ass, or delight in AEsop's talking brutes or +Greece's talking statues, one cannot restrain a feeling of skepticism +when a dog or a coin is put forward, given human attributes, and made +to view the world through man's eyes. On the other hand, if the +writer attempts to read the thoughts of the brute or the thing, the +difficulty at once presents itself that he can only guess at the +mental processes of the one, and that the other is incapable of +thought; so that in either case the result is unsatisfactory. One +exception to this statement must be made: Kipling, in his "Jungle +Book" stories, seems to have achieved the impossible and read for us +the very thoughts of the brute creation. Unfortunately it is not +given us to know how nearly he has hit their mental processes; but +his animals certainly do not think with the thoughts of men and their +cogitations, as he interprets them, appear to us perfectly logical +and natural. Yet the success of Kipling does not at all lessen the +force of my general statement, for there are few writers who would +care to cross pens with him here. Even our own Joel Chandler Harris, +in his delightful Uncle Remus stories, has succeeded only in giving +his animals human ideas and attributes. The whole endeavor to endow +the rest of creation with man's intelligence is too thoroughly +artificial to offer a profitable field to the short story writer. + +Again, novices err frequently through introducing a multiplicity of +narrators, either writing a patchwork story in which all take a hand, +or placing narration within narration as in the "Arabian Nights." The +method of allowing a number of persons consecutively to carry on the +plot is very attractive, since it offers a way of introducing a +personally interested narrator without making him preternaturally +wise; and it also affords opportunity for the author to exhibit his +skill in viewing events from all sides and through the minds of +several very different persons. It is, however, open to most of the +first person objections, and it is liable to produce a disjointed +narrative; but it is particularly unhappy in the short story because +it necessitates the introduction and disposition of a number of +important people. + +The use of narration within narration is more objectionable. It is of +little importance who tells the story, or how it came to be told; the +less the narrator appears the better. It is seldom that more than +one narrator is necessary, yet two, three, or even more are often +introduced, with full descriptions of persons and circumstances. "It +is a frequent device of the unpractised to cover pages with useless +explanations of how they heard a tale which is thus elaborately put +too far off from the reader to appeal to his sympathies. One writer, +after describing a rural station, his waiting for the train, its +appearance when it arrives, the companions of his journey, and so on, +is wrecked, and spends the night on a log with an old farmer, who +spins him a domestic yarn that has nothing to do with what went +before. Why not give the tale direct, in the character of the old +farmer? There is no law against that."[33] + +This practice is due to the fact that amateurs usually begin by writing +strictly true stories, and they always consider it of prime importance +that they had the tale from grandmother, or that it actually occurred +to John's wife's second cousin's great aunt; forgetting, in their +unconscious egotism, that the reader cares only for the narrative, and +nothing for the narrator. Stories told to interested listeners by +"grandma," an "old hunter," or some loquacious "stranger," usually need +to be so revised that the intrusive relater will disappear, merged in +the unobtrusive author. Indeed, it is policy so to revise them, for the +editor usually considers the author who begins thus too amateurish for +him: + + "Your turn now, Captain," was the exclamation of several + gentlemen who were seated around a table, telling stories, + narrating adventures, playing cards and drinking each others' + healths. + + "What will you have, gentlemen?" inquired Captain R----, a tall, + handsome man of middle age, who had been in command of a large + ocean steamer many years. + + "Oh, one of your adventures," said one of the party; "for surely + you must have had some." + + "Ah, very well, gentlemen--I remember one that will no doubt + interest you; here it is:" + +For at the outset he knows, and he knows that his readers will know, +that the tale ends thus: + + "So ends my story, gentlemen; now let us have a drink to the + health of the young sailor's wife, the dearest woman in the + world." + + "And why not the sailor's health, too?" asked one of the + gentlemen. + + "All right, sir, just as you please, gentlemen, for I was + that sailor." + +and that the intervening story is apt to be every whit as stale and +conventional as its beginning and its end. Irving's "Tales of a +Traveller" show how this method may be used successfully; yet it +required all of Irving's art to make the extra-narrative passages +readable, and it is an open question if the stories would not have +been improved by isolation. + +The best method of narration, the simplest and most natural, is to tell +the story in the third person, as if you were a passive observer; to +make the characters active and conversational; and to permit nothing, +not even your own personality, to get between the reader and the story. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 31: "The Short Story," by Frederick Wedmore. _Nineteenth +Century._ Mar., '98.] + +[Footnote 32: "The Epistolary Form." _Literature._ Apr. 7, '99.] + +[Footnote 33: "Magazine Fiction and How Not to Write It," by Frederick +M. Bird. _Lippincott's._ Nov., '94.] + + + + +VIII + +THE BEGINNING + + +The crucial test of the short story is the manner in which it begins. Of +three-fourths of the MSS. submitted to him the editor seldom reads more +than the first page, for he has learned by experience that if the story +lacks interest there, it will in all probability be lacking throughout. +Therefore it behooves you to make the beginning as attractive and +correct as possible. + +The beginning of a good short story will seldom comprise more than two +or three paragraphs, and often it can be compressed into one. If it +cannot get to the story proper in that space there is something +radically wrong--probably in the plot; for the conventional brevity of +the short story requires particular conciseness in the introduction. + +In every story there are certain foundation facts that must be +understood by the reader at the outset if he would follow the narrative +easily. These basic truths differ greatly in different stories, so that +it is difficult to give a complete list; but they are usually such +details as the time and scene of the story, the names, descriptions, +characteristics, and relationships of the different characters, and the +relation of events prior to the story that may influence its +development. You must make sure that the details which you select are +fundamental and that they do have a definite influence which requires +some knowledge of them. Any or all of these facts, however, may be +introduced later in the narrative when their need appears; or they may +be left in abeyance to enhance the element of suspense or mystery. + +But because they are necessary these facts need not be listed and +ticketed like the _dramatis personae_ of a play bill. They should be +introduced so deftly that the reader will comprehend them involuntarily; +they must seem an intrinsic part of the warp and woof of the narrative. +In themselves they are commonplaces, tolerated only because they are +necessary; and if they cannot be made interesting they can at least be +made unobtrusive. To begin a story thus is to make a false start that +may prove fatal: + + This happy family consisted of six; a father, mother, two sons, + and two daughters. Clara, the eldest, had completed a course at + college, and during the past few months had been completing one + in cooking, guided and instructed by her mother. Bessie, the + youngest, was five years old. She sat rocking Amanda, her new + doll, and was asking her all manner of questions. John and + Henry, aged respectively ten and fourteen years, were helping + their father. + + Grandma and grandpa were expected to dinner; also Mr. Draco, or + "Harry," as every one called him. He was a friend of the + family's, and Clara's lover. + +Note how Hawthorne handles a very similar family group in the initial +paragraph of "The Ambitious Guest." He inserts his details without +apparent effort; and yet he makes the persons individual and distinct. +He does not say: + + This family was happy, and comprised father, mother, + grandmother, daughter of seventeen, and younger children. + +but: + + The faces of the father and mother had a sober gladness; the + children laughed. The eldest daughter was the image of Happiness + at seventeen, and the aged grandmother, who was knitting in the + warmest place, was the image of Happiness grown old. + +Sometimes, in stories which consist largely of conversation, as so many +of our modern stories do, the author never directly states the situation +to the reader: it is made sufficiently plain either directly in the +conversation itself, or indirectly in the necessary comments and +descriptions. Or it may be presented as a retrospect indulged in by one +of the characters. On the stage this takes the form of a soliloquy; but +since few men in their right minds really think aloud, in the short +story it is better for the author to imagine such thoughts running +through the mind of the character, and to reproduce them as indirect +discourse. We are so used to consider the author as omniscient that we +experience no surprise or incredulity at such mind-reading. Such stories +approach very nearly to the pure _Dramatic Form_. These are at once the +most natural and the most artistic methods of introducing essential +facts, and they are methods which can be advantageously employed to some +extent in almost any story. With this method in mind read carefully any +one of Hope's "Dolly Dialogue" stories and note how cleverly the facts +are presented through the words and actions of the characters. + +In the novel essential details are frequently held in suspense for +some time, in order that the opening pages may be made attractive by +the introduction of smart conversation or rapid action. A similar +method is often followed in the short story, and it cannot be +condemned offhand, for if used skillfully it is a clever and +legitimate device for immediately fixing the reader's attention; but +it holds danger for the uninitiated, for the amateur is liable to +postpone the introduction of the details until the story is +hopelessly obscure, or until he is reduced to dragging in those +essential facts in the baldest manner. Even if he is otherwise +successful, he runs the risk of destroying the proportion of his +story by practically beginning it in the middle and endeavoring to go +both ways at once. The conventions of the short story allow of little +space for the retrospection necessary to such an introduction; and +when the writer begins to say, "But first let me explain how all this +came about," the reader begins to yawn, and the charm of the opening +sentences is forgotten in the dreariness of the ensuing explanations. +This method is of the modern school of short story writers, but +Hawthorne, in "The Prophetic Pictures," gives us an excellent example +of how it may be used to advantage; and the following well +illustrates the absurd lengths to which it may be carried, and the +desperate means to which the writer must then resort to patch up the +broken thread of the narrative: + + Joseph Johnson was a young man whose name appeared in the list + of the dead heroes who had fallen at Santiago. + + When Mamie Williams read the startling fact, her eyes filled + with tears, as past history was unfolding itself in her mind, + presenting one event after another. She thought about their + early love, how she had clasped his hand and how his lips + lingered long upon hers when last they parted before he started + to the cruel war. + + With a wounded heart and tear-stained eyes, she sank into a + chair, and with her hands over her face, many reflections of the + past chased each other through her mind. + + She tried to console herself and smooth out the wrinkles in her + troubled mind with the thought that God knows and does all + things well. She was an intelligent girl, and reasoned farther + with herself, "As all hope for Joseph has fled, I ought to marry + some one else, and make most of what I have. There is Thomas + Malloy, who loves me almost as well; however, my affection for + him is not very great, but I think I shall unite my life with + his, and do my best to make myself and the world around me + happy." + + Her mind, moved by an emotion of a noble heart, caused her to + make the last remark. + + Soon they were married, but there was no happiness in life for + her; for the one she lived for was gone, and had carried off her + affection with him. + + Returning to the war we find that Joseph was not killed in the + battle but was taken prisoner by the enemy. + +There is a questionable sort of beginning, which might be called +dilatory, that consists in carrying the literary aspect of the essential +facts to the extreme, and making them occupy a deal more valuable space +than is rightly theirs. This is generally the method of a past school of +short story writers, or of the writers of to-day who are not yet well +versed in the technique of their art. Of this class Washington Irving is +a great example. In "Rip Van Winkle" and "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" +he devotes to the introduction almost as much space as a writer to-day +would give to the whole tale. He is so skillful in gently urging the +narrative along, while he introduces new essentials and interpolates +literary but non-essential matter, that in neither story can one exactly +fix the bounds of the beginning; but in each a modern story teller would +combine the first ten paragraphs into one introductory paragraph. I do +not mean to say that this is a fault in Irving: if it is a fault at all +it belongs to his time; then, too, these tales were supposed to be +written by the garrulous antiquarian, Diedrich Knickerbocker; but their +discursive style is not in vogue to-day, and is therefore to be avoided. + +As an awful example of the extent to which this dilly-dallying may be +carried, let me introduce the following: + + The train rolled onward with a speed of twenty-five miles an + hour, the great iron engine puffing and screeching as if its + very sides would burst. In the rear car of the six coaches which + seemed to follow the monstrous iron horse with dizzy speed, sat + an aged man holding a pretty child of four summers, who was fast + asleep. The grandfather gazed on the sleeping face and deeply + sighed. His thoughts returned to the long ago when his only + child was the same age as the little one he held so fondly + clasped in his dear old arms. He thought how years ago he had + held his own darling thus; how happy and bright his home had + been in those sweet bygone days. He recalled how she had been + reared in a home of plenty, how she had everything which + constitutes the happiness of a young girl. + + _The Story._ + + The time was a warm summer evening in August, the place one of + those quiet little towns west of the great Mississippi, and the + scene opens in a neat little parlor where a number of young + folks had gathered to tender a fitting reception to a newly + married couple. A few days previous a stranger had arrived in + the town to visit some former friends; these friends attended + the reception and were accompanied by their guest. The stranger + was formally introduced to the crowd of merry-makers as Elmer + Charleston. He was a tall, splendidly formed, intelligent + looking young man. Among the young women present was one Jennie + Shelby, who was but little more than twenty; she was a blonde, + of graceful figure, with a peculiarly animated expression of + countenance. Her complexion was beautiful, her dimples deep and + mischievous, her large blue eyes full of latent fire, and her + features would pass muster among sculptors. Suitors had she by + the score. At last she had met her fate. Elmer Charleston + accepted a position in the town and at once began to court the + only daughter of Squire Shelby. + +It seems almost incredible that any writer, however inexperienced, +should begin his narrative in this fashion. The introductory paragraph +is of course entirely unnecessary--even the author had some inkling of +that fact, for he takes pains to specify when "the story" proper +actually begins; but even after he is supposed to be in the midst of his +narration, he stops to give us wholly gratuitous information concerning +the time of day, the state of the weather, and the occasion when Elmer +Charleston first met Jennie Shelby--all of which was apparently +introduced for the purpose of discouraging further interest: at least, +that is what it certainly accomplishes. + +The short story has no space for the "glittering generalities" with +which young writers delight to preface their work. A tale which requires +a page or even a paragraph to elucidate its relation to life and things +in general is seldom worth the perusal, much less the writing. These +introductory remarks are usually in the nature of a moral, or a bit of +philosophizing; but if the story has any point it will be evident in the +narrative itself, and no preliminary explanation will atone for later +neglect to make it of human interest. There is no good reason, unless it +be the perversity of human nature, why you should begin a story by +making trite remarks about things in general, as this writer did: + + Love is a very small word, but the feeling that it expresses + bears the richest and choicest fruit of any vine that curls its + clinging tendrils around the human heart. And a bosom without it + is a bosom without warmth; a life without it is like a + honeysuckle without its nectar; a heart that has never felt its + sweet emotions is like a rosebud that has never unfolded. But in + some people it remains latent for a number of years, like an + apple which remains green and hard for a time, but suddenly + ripens into softness, so when love flashes into the human + breast, the once hard heart is changed into mellowness. + + Mary Green was just such a character as the one last described, + etc. + +It would be wrong, however, to say that the prefatory introduction is +the sign of a poor story, for many good writers produce such stories, +and many critical editors accept and publish them. A large majority of +Poe's tales begins so; yet in nearly every case the beginning could have +been cut and the story improved. Kipling, too, has a liking for this +method of beginning; usually he states his abstract idea, as a preacher +announces his text, and then proceeds to make the practical application. +With these masters the transition from the general to the specific is +usually easy and gradual, but in the following example from Kipling's +"On the Strength of a Likeness" the line of demarcation is well defined: + + Next to a requited attachment, one of the most convenient things + that a young man can carry about with him at the beginning of + his career is an unrequited attachment. It makes him feel + important and business-like, and _blase_, and cynical; and + whenever he has a touch of liver, or suffers from want of + exercise, he can mourn over his lost love, and be very happy in + a tender, twilight fashion. + + Hannasyde's affair of the heart had been a godsend to him. It + was four years old, etc. + +There is no real abruptness here, and the author's observations are apt +and sound; but the fact remains that they are not essential and so a +strict observance of conventions requires their elimination. + +"The background of a story should always be the last thing to be chosen, +but it is the first thing to consider when one comes to actual writing +out. A story is much like a painting.... In story writing it appears to +be simple portraits that need least background."[34] Scenes may play an +important part in a story by influencing the actors or by offering a +contrast to the events; in such cases they must be made specific, but +rather after the broad free manner of the impressionist. The employment +of the contrast or harmony of man and nature is one of the oldest +devices of story telling, but also one of the most artistic and +effective. It is not an artificial device, though it occasionally +appears so from its misuse: it is a fact that all of us must have +experienced in some degree, for we are all, though often unconsciously, +influenced by the weather or by our environments; and though our +emotions may be so intense as to counteract that influence, we are +sufficiently self-centered to think it strange that all nature should +not be in harmony with us. + +You should, however, take care that the scene is important before you +attempt to present it. Unless it does influence the action of the story +or is necessary for the understanding of what is to come it has no place +in the narrative, no matter how great may be its beauties or how +artistic your description of them. Above all things, never clutter your +story with commonplaces and details which would serve to picture any one +of a hundred different places. "When a tale begins, 'The golden orb of +day was slowly sinking among the hills, shedding an effulgent glory over +the distant landscape,' the discerning reader, whether official or +volunteer, is apt to pause right there. He knows exactly what happens +when the orb of day finds it time to disappear, and he does not care for +your fine language unless it conveys a fact or an idea worth +noting."[35] + +The best method of procedure is to suggest the scene, as you do the +character,[36] by the few specific features which distinguish it from +other similar scenes, and to permit the reader's imagination to fill in +the details. Hawthorne gives a very distinct idea of the setting of "The +Ambitious Guest;" and yet, from his description alone, no two persons +would draw the same picture. It suffices that they would all possess the +essential elements of loneliness, bleakness and haunting terror. At the +same time he effects a sharp contrast between the wildness and +discomforts of the night and the peace and cheer of the tavern. + +In locating the story it is absurdly shiftless to designate the place by +a dash or a single letter, or a combination of the two. One of your +first objects is to make your story vivid, and you will not further that +end by the use of impossible or indefinite substitutes for names. If you +are relating a true story and desire to disguise it, adopt or invent +some appellation different enough to avoid detection; but never be so +foolish as to say: + + The story I am about to relate occurred to my friend X., in the + little village of Z----, during the latter part of the year + 18--. + +It would be just as sensible to go through the rest of the story and +substitute blanks or hieroglyphics for the important words. Specificness +in minor details is a great aid to vividness, and you cannot afford to +miss that desirable quality through sheer laziness. + +The safest way to begin a story is to begin at the beginning, state the +necessary facts as succinctly as possible, and lead the reader into the +quick of the action before he has had time to become weary. For it must +be remembered that the object of the short story is always to amuse, and +that even in the introductory paragraphs the reader must be interested. +If he is not he will very likely cast the story aside as dry and dull; +if he does read it through he will be prejudiced at the outset, so that +the result will be about the same. + +In "The Ambitious Guest" the introduction occupies ¶ 1-4, or +one-eleventh of the entire story, measured by paragraphs. In that +space Hawthorne locates the scene, introduces and individualizes the +characters, determines the atmosphere of the tale, and recounts the +necessary preliminaries; and all this he does in the easiest way, +while skillfully leading up to the story proper. A writer of to-day +would probably condense these four paragraphs into one, without +neglecting any essentials; but he would hardly attain the literary +finish of Hawthorne's work. + +To prove further that the beginning of a story does influence its +success, I would ask you to consider the following, which is typical +of the style of introduction most affected by the novice: + + It was a bright, crisp, twilight evening, and two young girls + sat together in a richly furnished parlor of a splendid country + house. + + One, tall and slender, with a richly moulded figure; handsome + brunette features, and raven tresses--Edith Laingsford, the + daughter of the house; the other, a girl of medium height, with + a figure perfectly rounded, and a fair Grecian face. + + Her eyes were of a soft gray, and her hair a waving chestnut. + She was Marion Leland, a dependent cousin of Miss Laingsford's. + +Now, frankly, do you care to read further? Surely there is nothing in +the glimpse of the plot here presented that encourages you to hope +that the tale may improve upon further perusal. From these three +paragraphs you can construct the whole story: you know that the +"dependent cousin" and the girl with the "handsome brunette features" +will be rivals for the affections of some "nice young man" of +corresponding conventionality, and that the poor relation will +finally win him--chiefly because it always happens so in stories and +seldom in real life. And you know from these specimen paragraphs that +there will be nothing in the handling of this poor old hackneyed plot +that will repay its perusal. Of course there is always a chance that +you may be mistaken in your surmises; but the chance is too slight, +and you cast the story aside with a yawn, even as the editor would +do. See to it, then, that your own stories do not deserve like +treatment. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 34: "How to Write Fiction." Published anonymously by Bellaires +& Co., London. Part I, Chapter VII.] + +[Footnote 35: "Magazine Fiction and How Not to Write It," by Frederick +M. Bird. _Lippincott's._ Nov., '94.] + +[Footnote 36: See Chapter VI.] + + + + +IX + +THE STORY PROPER + + +The correct short story possesses unity of form as well as unity of +plot. In the novel there may be wide gaps of time and scene between +adjacent chapters; but the short story allows of no such chasms of +thought, much less of chapters. Parts or chapters in a short story +are uncanonical. A short story is essentially a unit, and the +necessity of divisions indicates the use of a plot that belongs +to some larger form of literature; but the indicated "parts" or +"chapters" may be false divisions introduced through the influence +of the conventions of the novel. + +The various divisional signs to be avoided are the separate entries or +letters of the diary or epistolary forms, the introduction of stars or +blank spaces to indicate a hiatus, and the division of the narrative +into parts or chapters. The evils of the diary and epistolary forms have +already been discussed and need no further comment. The use of stars or +spaces either is due to an improper plot, or is entirely unnecessary. In +the first instance the fault is radical, and the only remedy is complete +reconstruction; in the second case the difficulty resolves itself into +an ignorance or a disregard of rhetorical conventions. Often the story +is deliberately divided and forced to appear in several chapters when +its plot and treatment make its unity very evident; and solely because +the amateur has an idea, caught from his novel reading, that such +divisions are essential to a well told story. They are not necessary to +many novels, though they may be convenient; and they have no place in +the scheme of the short story. There are stories, "short" at least in +length, in which divisions are necessary to indicate breaks which do not +seriously interrupt the coherency of the narrative; they may be readable +stories, but they can never be models. + +The ideal short story, from the point of unity, is one which requires +the passage of the least time and presents the fewest separate +incidents. It is the relation of a single isolated incident, which +occupies only the time required to tell it. "The Ambitious Guest" +impresses the reader as a single incident and would seem to approach +this perfection, but a careful analysis of it resolves it into a number +of minor incidents, so closely related and connected that at first +glance they appear to form a perfect whole. The component incidents of +the body of "The Ambitious Guest" (¶ 5-39) are: + + ¶ 5-7. The stranger praises the fire and reveals his + destination. + + ¶ 8, 9. A stone rolls down the mountain side. (Lapse of time + indicated here.) + + ¶ 10, 11. The characters are described, as they reveal + themselves through their conversation. + + ¶ 12-23. They converse rather frankly of their several + ambitions. + + ¶ 24-27. A wagon stops before the inn, but goes on when the + landlord does not immediately appear. + + ¶ 28-31. A touch of sentimental byplay between the stranger and + the maid. + + ¶ 32. A sadness creeps over the company, caused, perhaps, by the + wind wailing without. + + ¶ 33-39. The grandmother discusses her death and burial. + +None of these incidents, except those containing the rolling stone and +the passing travelers, possess sufficient action or identity to be +called an incident, except for some such analytical purpose. They are +rather changes in the subject under discussion than separate happenings. +With the exception already noted, it may be said that there is no time +gap between these incidents, for each one begins at the expiration of +its predecessor. The connection and relation of the sub-incidents is not +always as close as this. In a longer story they could be more distinct +and definite and yet preserve the unity of the work; but they should +never disintegrate into minor climaxes,[37] nor into such a jerky +succession of disassociated scenes as the following: + + On a fair sweet spring morning in the lovely month of May, + Squire Darley finishes an important letter. He reads it over the + second time to see that there is no mistake. + + "There, that'll do, I think," he soliloquizes. "And that'll + fetch him, I think. Peculiar diseases require peculiar + remedies." And he chuckled to himself. Then with deliberate care + he addressed it to "Mr. H. C. Darley, New York City." + + A few words to my reader, and we will then follow this important + letter. Five years before the time of which we write, Abner + Vanclief, a poor but honorable gentleman, had died, leaving his + motherless daughter to the sole care of his lifelong friend, + Horace Darley, a wealthy country gentleman, a widower, with only + one son. + + Squire Darley was quite at a loss to know what to do with this, + his new charge. He did not think it fit and proper to take her + to Darley Dale, with only himself and servants as companions. + Then, too, she was sadly in need of schooling. + + At last after much worry on his part, it was satisfactorily + arranged between himself and a maiden sister, that resided in + Albany, that Violet was to remain with her, attend the best + college, pay strict attention to her studies and music, and when + her education should be completed, she, if she wished, was to + make Darley Dale her future home. + + Four years passed swiftly by, and then "Dear Aunt Molly," as + Violet had learned to call her, was taken violently ill; and + before her brother came her sweet spirit had flown away and poor + Violet was again alone. But after she became fairly installed as + mistress at Darley Dale, she soon learned to love the place and + also to love the dear old man that had been to her so staunch a + friend. + + As for his son Harley, she had heard his praises sung from + morning until night. She had never seen him, for at the time of + her father's death he was attending college, and before she + returned to Darley Dale he had hied himself off to New York + City, there to open a law office and declare that his future + home. + + Many times the Squire had written him beseeching him to return, + but always met with a courteous refusal. + + When Violet had been at Darley Dale a year she was surprised + beyond measure by an offer of marriage from Squire Darley. + + He had enlarged upon the fact that his son was a most obstinate + young man, that he himself was growing old, and that he wished + to see her well cared for before he died. + + She had assured him that she could work, and that she was + willing to work when the time came, but the old Squire proved + himself to be as obstinate as his wilful son. And at last + Violet, with a white drawn face, and dark frightened eyes, + consented to become his wife at some future time. + + And the letter addressed to Mr. H. C. Darley contained the + announcement of the engagement of Squire Horace to Miss Violet + Vanclief. + +It is seldom that even a model short story plot will be a perfect unit, +for in the story, as in the life which it pictures, some slight change +of scene and some little passage of time are inevitable. Thus in any +short story there is usually a slight hiatus of thought, due to these +causes, which must be bridged over. The tyro will span the chasm by +means of stars or some such arbitrary signs, but the master will calmly +ignore such gaps and preserve the unity of his narrative so deftly that +even the lines of the dovetailing will be scarcely visible. Thus in "The +Ambitious Guest" (¶ 9, 10) Hawthorne had need to indicate the passage of +some little time, during which the guest had his supper; but the breach +is passed in so matter-of-fact a manner that there is no jolt, and yet +the sense of time is secured: + + Let us now suppose the stranger to have finished his supper of + bear's meat, and by his natural felicity of manner to have + placed himself on a footing of kindness with the whole family; + so that they talked as freely together as if he belonged to + their mountain-brood. + +When the plot comprises a series of closely related episodes the story +should be located in the time of the most important one, and all +necessary preliminary matter should be introduced as briefly and +casually as possible in one of the several ways already given.[38] +Indeed, the whole difficulty is usually due to a poor beginning, and +properly belongs to the preceding chapter. + +Next to the use of divisions comes the error, also caught from the +novel, of making the short story a carryall for divers bits of wisdom, +moralizing, description, and literary small talk, which have no part in +the narrative, but which the clever and self-appreciative author has not +the heart to withhold from the public. The art of omission is an +important branch of the art of authorship. It is seldom necessary to +tell the novice what to put in; but it is frequently necessary to tell +him--and oh! so hard to persuade him!--that to introduce an irrelevant +idea is worse than to omit a necessary detail. The young writer must +learn early and learn once for all the absolute necessity for the +exclusion of non-essentials. Selection of details plays an important +part in any literary work, but in the short story extreme care is +indispensable, for the short story has too little space to sacrifice any +to pretty but useless phrases. Such irrelevant matter is usually called +"padding," and its presence is a serious detriment to the success of any +story, however clever in conception. + +One of the chief causes of padding is the desire for "local color"--a +term by which we characterize those details which are introduced to make +a story seem to smack of the soil. These details must be eminently local +and characteristic--possible of application to only the small community +to which they are ascribed--or they are mere padding. The need of local +color depends much upon the character of the story: it varies from a +doubtful addition to the story of ingenuity or adventure, to a necessary +part of the story portraying human life and character. "Without blindly +indulging in local color one must be accurate in indicating facts. A +work of art must not be crowded with so-called local color, but certain +facts must be known and used to give the effect of a true relation.... +The atmosphere, the feeling and idiosyncrasy--a word or a phrase which +reveals character--are the only true local color, not passing phrases of +unkempt speech."[39] The stories of Miss Wilkins, Octave Thanet, Bret +Harte, and Joel Chandler Harris are full of excellent examples of local +color. + +Every perfect short story will contain a strong argument for good, +through its subtle exposition of the earning of the "wages of sin," but +any attempt to make it a medium for the spreading of ethical and +spiritual truths will entail ridicule upon the writer and failure upon +his work. The only legitimate purpose of the short story is to amuse, +and didacticism in literature is always inartistic. "Novels with a +purpose" may find publishers and readers; but no one, except the author, +cares for "polemic stories--such as set forth the wickedness of Free +Trade or of Protection, the Wrongs of Labor and the Rights of Capital, +the advantages of one sect over another, the beauties of Deism, +Agnosticism, and other unestablished tenets.... Genius will triumph over +most obstacles, and art can sugar-coat an unwelcome pill; but in +nineteen cases out of twenty the story which covers an apology for one +doctrine or an attack upon the other has no more chance than if it were +made up of offensive personalities."[40] "Though ordinary dramatic short +stories do not have a moral which shows itself, still under the surface +in every story is something which corresponds to the moral, and which we +shall call _the soul of the story_."[41] The short story cannot properly +be a mere sermon, such as are so often penned under the caption of "The +Drunkard's Wife," "The Orphan's Prayer," "The Wages of Sin," and other +similar titles. It must teach its moral lesson in its own way--its +artistic presentation of the great contrast between the sort of men who +work deeds of nobility and of shame. If it be saddled with didacticism +or tailed with a moral, it ceases to be a story and becomes an argument; +when it no longer concerns us. + +Indirectly, and perhaps unintentionally, the short story is a great +factor for good. The world is weary of the bald sermons of the Puritans, +and of their endeavor to "point a tale" by every ordinary occurrence; +it is rather inclined to a Pharisaical self-righteousness; and needs +to have its sins, and the practical benefits of goodness, cunningly +insinuated; but it can never fail to admire and strive to emulate the +noble deeds of noble men, whether creatures of flesh or phantoms of the +brain. To be sure, many of our best short stories deal with events so +slight and really unimportant that they might be said to have no moral +influence; yet, if they simply provide us with innocent amusement for an +idle hour, their ethical value must not be overlooked; and when they do +involve some great moral question or soul crisis their influence is +invariably on the right side. + +The point is that religion is not literature. The mere fact that the +heroine of a story is a poor milk and water creature, full of bald +platitudes and conventional righteousness, does not make that narrative +correct or readable; indeed, it is very apt to make it neither, for the +platitudes will be irrelevant and the righteousness uninteresting. When +this old world of ours becomes really moral we may be content to read +so-called stories in which goody-good characters parade their own +virtues and interlard their ordinary speech with prayers and hymns +and scriptural quotations; but while a tithe of the present sin and +crime exists our fiction will reflect them with the other phases of +our daily life. + +Now by this I do not at all mean that religion has no place in +literature. Such a ruling would not only be contrary to the practice +of our best writers, but would also deprive us of a recognized and +important element in human life. The religious influence is one of the +most powerful to which man is subject, and as it plays so great a part +in our lives it must necessarily figure largely in our stories. But it +must be treated there because of the manner in which it influences human +life and action, and not from the ethical standpoint: it must be made +literature and not religious dogmatism. That it can be so treated and +yet retain the full strength of its power for good is best illustrated +in the works of Miss Wilkins. Nearly every one of her stories possesses +a strong element of New England Puritanism, but there is no attempt to +preach or moralize. + +The short story must be well proportioned: those parts which are +essential differ materially in their importance, and they must be valued +and handled in accordance with their influence upon the plot. No scene, +however cleverly done, must be allowed to monopolize the space of the +story, except in so far as it is necessary to an understanding of what +follows; and no incident which furthers the plot, however trivial or +ordinary it may seem to you, must be slighted. The preservation of the +balance of the story is not wholly a matter of the number of words +involved: often a page of idle chatter by the characters makes less +impression on the reader than a single terse direct sentence by the +author himself; but in general the practice is to value the various +parts of the story by the word space accorded them. This rule will +not, however, hold good in the case of the climax, which is estimated +both by its position and by the manner in which it is worked up to. + +The story proper is really only the preparation for the climax. Most +stories depend for their interest upon the pleasure with which we follow +the principal characters through various trying episodes, and the great +desire which we all experience to know "how it all comes out." It is +this innate sense, which seems to be a phase of curiosity, that affords +the pleasure that the average reader derives from fiction. One seldom +stops to consider how a story is written, but judges it by its power to +keep him absorbed in the fortunes of its hero and heroine. This is the +element of suspense. + +However, there finally comes a point when the suspense cannot be longer +continued, and the strained attention of the reader is on the verge of +collapsing into indifference, when the curiosity must be gratified by at +least a partial revelation; and so the element of surprise enters. Too +long a strain on the interest is invariably fatal, and the thing is to +know when to relieve the tension. Just when this relief should occur +depends upon the plot and the length of the story, so that the question +must be settled separately for each particular case. As has already been +said, the plot of a short story should not be involved; yet it may be +permitted some degree of complexity. In such a case it is probable that +there must be some preliminary relief of suspense before the final +relief which the climax offers. However, because of the usual simplicity +of the plot, the length of the story has greater influence in regulating +the relief of the suspense. In a story of 3,000 words or less there is +neither room nor necessity for any preliminary surprise, and the most +effective method is to withhold all hints at the outcome until the +actual climax, as Hawthorne did in "The Ambitious Guest." But when the +story approaches or exceeds 10,000 words it is probable that there must +be some lessening of the tension previous to the climax, as in Henry +James' "The Lesson of the Master." This story, which contains 25,000 +words, is divided into six parts, each representing a separate scene in +the progress of the story; and yet, so skillful is James, there is no +hiatus between the parts, and the story as a whole has unity of +impression. At the end of each part the reader has made a definite +advance toward the point of the story, through the preliminary relief of +suspense afforded by that part, as a study of this brief outline will +show: + + I + + At the end Paul Overt first sees Henry St. George, and the + reader receives a definite picture of the great author, who has + hitherto been only a name. + + II + + At the end the two meet, and the picture is given life. + + III + + All through this division St. George reveals to Overt his real + character, so that when the end comes Overt has a less exalted + idea of the master than that which he had cherished. + + IV + + At the end Marion Fancourt tells Overt of St. George's declared + intention to cease visiting her. This relieves suspense by + making Overt's position toward her more definite, but also + involves matters because of St. George's failure to give any + good reason for his action. + + V + + At the end Overt, by the advice of St. George, sacrifices in the + cause of true art all his natural desires for love and domestic + joys. + + VI + + In the first part Overt learns of St. George's engagement to + Miss Fancourt. + + At the end St. George tells Overt that he has given up writing + to enjoy those very things which he advised Overt to renounce. + +A study of this outline will show you the necessity, in the case of +this story, of these preliminary reliefs of the suspense. It would +have been absurdly impossible to have tried to hold in abeyance until +the climax all these matters; nor does the solving of any of these +minor perplexities at all lessen the interest in the denouement. Each +bit of information comes out at the proper time as a matter of +course, just as it would come to our knowledge if we were observing a +similar drama in real life. + +When the outcome of the writer's meanderings is finally revealed, it +should be a veritable surprise--_i. e._, be unexpected. This is a matter +that is rather easily managed, for it is a poor plot that does not +afford at least two settlements--either the heroine marries the hero, or +she marries the villain; and often there is a third possibility, that +she marries neither. If he has provided a proper plot, the author has +but little to do with making the surprise genuine, and that little is +rather negative. He opens the possibility of the hero doing any one of a +number of things, and he may even give rather broad hints, but he should +take care never to give a clue to the outcome of the story, unless he +purposely gives a misleading clue. The most artistic method is to make +these hints progressive and culminative, so that though each one adds to +the knowledge of the reader, it is only when they all culminate in the +climax that the mystery is completely solved. + +This preparation for the climax is one of the most delicate tasks +required of the short story writer. The climax must seem the logical +result of events and personal characteristics already recited. If it is +too startling or unexpected it will be a strain on the credulity of the +reader, and will be dubbed "unnatural;" for though fiction allows great +license in the employment of strange people and situations, it demands +that they be used with some regard for plausibility. The ending must +appear inevitable--but its inevitableness must not be apparent until the +end has come. It is only after the story has been read that the reader +should be able to look back through the narrative and pick out the +preparatory touches. They must have influenced him when first he read +them and prepared him for what was to come, but without his being +conscious of their influence. + +The novice usually prepares the way for his climax so carefully that he +gives it away long before he should. This he does either by means of +anticipatory side remarks, or by making the outcome of his story so +obvious at the start that he really has no story to tell, and a climax +or surprise is impossible. The first fault is much the easier to +correct: most of the side remarks can be cut out bodily without injury +to the story, and those which are really necessary can be so modified +and slurred over that they will prepare the way for the climax without +revealing it. The other fault is usually radical: it is the result of a +conventional plot treated in the conventional manner. It is beyond help +so far as concerns that particular story, for it requires a new plot +handled in an original manner; but its recurrence can be prevented if +the writer will be more exacting in his selection of plots, and more +individual in his methods. It can usually be detected in the beginning, +as in the case of the last example quoted in Chapter VIII. + +In "The Ambitious Guest" the climax is led up to most skillfully by +Hawthorne; indeed, his preparation is so clever that it is not always +easy to trace. Throughout the story there are an air of gloom and a +strange turning to thoughts of death that seem to portend a catastrophe; +and I believe the following passages are intentional notes of warning: + + 1 ... a cold spot and a dangerous one.... stones would often + rumble down its sides and startle them at midnight. + + 2 ... the wind came through the Notch and seemed to pause before + their cottage, ... wailing and lamentation.... For a moment it + saddened them, though there was nothing unusual in the tones. + + 3 ... whose fate was linked with theirs. + + 8 (Entire.) + + 9 (Entire.) + + 10 ... a prophetic sympathy ... the kindred of a common + fate.... + + 12 (Entire.) + + 14 "... a noble pedestal for a man's statue." (Doubtful.) + + 16 "... things that are pretty certain never to come to pass." + + 17 "... when he is a widower." + + 18 "When I think of your death, Esther, I think of mine too. But + I was wishing we had a good farm ... round the White Mountains, + but not where they could tumble on our heads.... I might die + happy enough in my bed.... A slate gravestone would suit me as + well as a marble one...." + + 20 "They say it's a sign of something when folk's minds go + a-wandering so." + + 22 "... go and take a drink out of the basin of the Flume." + (Doubtful; unless regarded as the result of some subtle warning + to fly the spot.) + + 26 ... though their music and mirth came back drearily from the + heart of the mountain. + + 28 ... a light cloud passed over the daughter's spirit.... + + 32 ... it might blossom in Paradise, since it could not be + matured on earth ... the wind through the Notch took a + deeper and drearier sound.... There was a wail along the + road as if a funeral were passing. + + 36 (Entire.) + + 38 (Entire.) + + 39 (Entire.) + +A novice writing the same story would hardly have refrained from +introducing some very bald hints concerning the fate of the ambitious +stranger; for the novice has a mistaken idea that wordy and flowery +exclamations make sad events all the sadder, forgetting that silent +grief is the keenest. Thus the novice would have interlarded his +narrative with such exclamations as: + + ¶ 12. + + Ah! could the unfortunate stranger but have guessed the + culmination of his bright dreams, how would he have bewailed + his fate! + + ¶ 19. + + Unhappy youth! _his_ grave was to be unmarked, his very death + in doubt! + + ¶ 28. + + Poor girl! had she a premonition of her awful death? + +Such interpolations are very exasperating to the reader, for he much +prefers to learn for himself the outcome of the tale; and they also +greatly offend against the rhetorical correctness of the story, for +they are always utterly irrelevant and obstructive. + +The only stories which may properly anticipate their own denouements are +what might be called "stories of premonition," in which the interest +depends upon comparing actual events to the prophecy of dreams or some +other mystical agency. In such tales the real interest is usually in the +weirdness of the whole affair--though, to be sure, they do not always +turn out as they are expected to. For, after all, this introduction of +surprise into fiction is simply an imitation of nature, and "it is the +unexpected that always happens." + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 37: See Chapter X.] + +[Footnote 38: See Chapter VIII for the best methods of introducing +foundation facts.] + +[Footnote 39: "The Art of Fiction." A lecture by Gilbert Parker. _The +Critic._ Dec., '98.] + +[Footnote 40: "Magazine Fiction and How Not to Write It," by Frederick +M. Bird. _Lippincott's._ Nov., '94.] + +[Footnote 41: "How to Write Fiction." Published anonymously by Bellaires +& Co., London. Part I, Chapter V.] + + + + +X + +CLIMAX AND CONCLUSION + + +If the overworked editor, hastily skimming the heap of MSS. before +him, comes upon one which promises well in the opening paragraphs, he +will turn to its conclusion, to learn how well the author has kept +his promise; and if he finds there equal evidence of a good story, he +will put the MS. by for more careful reading and possible purchase. +Experience has taught him that the end of a story is second only to +the beginning as a practical test of the narrative; and therefore to +the author as well the conclusion is of extreme importance. + +The end of a short story comprises the climax and the conclusion. The +climax is the chief surprise, the relief of the suspense, or the +greatest relief, if there is more than one; it is the apex of +interest and emotion; it is the point of the story; it is really +_the_ story. The conclusion is the solving of all problems, the +termination of the narrative itself, and the artistic severing of +all relations between narrator and reader. + +The climax, in spite of its importance, is but a small part of the +story, so far as mere words are concerned. In a properly constructed +narrative its influence is felt throughout the whole story, which, as +already stated, is but one long preparation for it. But in itself the +climax is usually confined to a single paragraph of ordinary length; and +the climax proper, the real point of the story, is usually conveyed in a +half dozen words. For the climax, and particularly the climax proper, is +the story concentrated in a single phrase. It must have been prepared +for carefully and worked up to at some length; but when it does come it +must be expressed so directly and so forcefully that it will make the +reader jump mentally, if not physically. It is the desire to produce +this startling effect that leads some writers to endeavor to gain +artificial force by printing their climax proper in italics, or even in +capitals. In "The Ambitious Guest" we have an unusually strong and +perfect climax in ¶ 40, 41: + + ... a sound abroad in the night, rising like the roar of a + blast, had grown broad, deep and terrible before the fated group + were conscious of it. The house and all within it trembled; the + foundations of the earth seemed to be shaken, as if this awful + sound was the peal of the last trump. Young and old exchanged + one wild glance and remained an instant pale, affrighted, + without utterance or power to move. Then the same shriek burst + simultaneously from all their lips: + + "The slide! The slide!" + +while the climax proper--the climax of the climax--occurs in the four +words which compose ¶ 41. + + "The slide! The slide!" + +It is hardly necessary to say that the climax should be very near the +end of the story, for even those stories which attempt to begin in +the middle and go both ways at once place the climax properly. But +there is a danger that the climax will come too soon. After they have +reached what is properly a central point in their story, amateurs +often become lazy or in too great a hurry, and rush the latter part +of the narrative through unceremoniously. In the first part they may +have been inclined to go into needless detail; but when once they +come in sight of the finish, they forget everything except that their +task is nearly ended; they plunge ahead regardless, treat important +matters most superficially, neglect those skillful little touches +which go to make a story natural and literary, and reach the end to +find that they have skeletonized an important part of the narrative. +In such a case the reader is very apt to come upon the climax +unexpectedly, and so to find it forced and illogical; whereas if +the author had preserved the proportions of his narrative, and led +up to his climax properly, it would have been accounted strong and +inevitable. + +The climax of a story must be a genuine climax--that is, it must be +the culmination of the interest of the story, and it must definitely +end and eliminate the element of suspense. The climax, or its immediate +consequences, must decide the destinies of all your characters, and the +fate of all their schemes. If the heroine is hesitating between her two +lovers she must decide in the climax or on account of it; if the hero is +in a position of great danger he must be killed or saved. The revelation +need not be couched in the bald phrase, "And so John married Kate;" but +it may be hinted at or suggested in the most subtle manner; but settled +in some way it must be. Stockton did otherwise in "The Lady, or the +Tiger?" but he sought for humorous effect, and all things are fair in +the funny story. Stories which are meant to be serious, but which leave +the reader still puzzling over the possibilities of the plot, are likely +to get their author into serious difficulties with the reading public, +even if the editors can be persuaded to overlook his idiosyncracies. + +The amateur is prone to the conviction, deduced, I fear, from the +practice of the cheap melodrama and the cheaper novel, that "climax" +and "tragedy" are synonymous terms, and that he is violating sacred +traditions unless he ends his tale with a violent death. But it is by no +means necessary that the climax of a short story should be or should +contain a catastrophe or a tragedy. Its nature depends entirely upon the +character of the tale in which it appears, and it may be just as strong +and just as thrilling if it consists only of the "Yes" with which the +heroine answers the hero's wooing. Indeed, it not infrequently happens +that the tragedy or the catastrophe which appears in the climax is only +an accessory to the real climax, a cause or a result of it. The climax +of "The Ambitious Guest" is a tragedy; but the climax of Irving's "The +Legend of Sleepy Hollow," though certainly a catastrophe, is anything +but tragic, if read in the ironic spirit in which it was written: + + Another convulsive kick in the ribs, and old Gunpowder sprang + upon the bridge; he thundered over the resounding planks; he + gained the opposite side; and now Ichabod cast a look behind to + see if his pursuer should vanish, according to rule, in a flash + of fire and brimstone. Just then he saw the goblin rising in his + stirrups, and in the very act of hurling his head at him. + Ichabod endeavored to dodge the horrible missile, but too late. + It encountered his cranium with a tremendous crash; he was + tumbled headlong into the dust, and Gunpowder, the black steed, + and the goblin rider passed by like a whirlwind. + +While in Poe's "The Black Cat," one tragedy is a preliminary of the +climax and another is in a manner the result of it; but the real climax +is the discovery of the cat: + + ... a dozen stout arms were toiling at the wall. It fell bodily. + The corpse, already greatly decayed and clotted with gore, stood + erect before the eyes of the spectators. On its head, with red + extended mouth and solitary eye of fire, sat the hideous beast + whose craft had seduced me into murder, and whose informing + voice had consigned me to the hangman. I had walled the monster + up within the tomb! + +Nor does the mere introduction of a tragedy make a climax, for though +the following paragraphs contain two tragedies, there is no climactic +force: + + Joseph, who had been sitting with his head on his knees, and + wondering what in the world was going to happen, raised his + head, and exclaimed, on seeing his brother, "You have come after + me--" At this instant some one struck him on the head with a + pistol, which brought him to the floor. But Harry, hearing the + familiar voice, and seeing the man also, knew too well who it + was. He shouted at the top of his voice, "Stop! Wait! This thing + must be investigated!" Telling them who the prisoner was, and + pleading with them, he was finally able to disperse the mob, + though against their own will. + + The next morning, when Mamie was brought to consciousness again, + she begged that he should not be punished. + + On learning the truth he was immediately released, but the + bitter grief, mingled with so much excitement, was more than he + could endure. He died that night at ten. + + The bitterness occasioned by this catastrophe remained in the + bosom of Mamie, and she too died of a broken heart. + +The plot of a certain type of story requires subordinate and preliminary +climaxes to relieve the tension or advance the action, as already +stated.[42] Such periods, when given genuine climactic force, are +antagonistic to the spirit of the short story, in that they violate the +unity, and a story containing them is usually faulty otherwise; but such +stories have been written by good writers and so must be recognized +here. The preliminary climaxes must be sufficiently few, sufficiently +subordinate and sufficiently distant not to detract from the force of +the chief climax. The main point is to see that one of the preliminary +climaxes is not really _the_ climax, for inexperienced writers sometimes +allow their stories to run on longer than they should; or they confuse +what is merely an incident with what should be made the main crisis. In +"The Ambitious Guest" there is only one climax; but in Hawthorne's "Mr. +Higginbotham's Catastrophe" I find no less than five critical points, +which I here subpend with the numbers of the paragraphs in which they +occur: + + ¶ 7. + + "Old Mr. Higginbotham of Kimballton was murdered in his orchard + at eight o'clock last night by an Irishman and a nigger. They + strung him up to the branch of a St. Michael's pear tree where + nobody would find him till the morning." + + ¶ 14. + + "... if squire Higginbotham was murdered night before last I + drank a glass of bitters with his ghost this morning. Being a + neighbor of mine, he called me into his store as I was riding + by, and treated me...." + + ¶ 21. + + "No, no! There was no colored man. It was an Irishman that + hanged him last night at eight o'clock; I came away at seven." + + ¶ 36. + + "I left Kimballton this morning to spend the vacation of + commencement-week with a friend about five miles from Parker's + Falls. My generous uncle, when he heard me on the stairs, called + me to his bedside and gave me two dollars and fifty cents to pay + my stage-fare, and another dollar for my extra expenses." + + ¶ 49. + + He rushed forward, prostrated a sturdy Irishman with the + butt-end of his whip, and found--not, indeed, hanging on the + St. Michael's pear tree, but trembling beneath it with a halter + round his neck--the old identical Mr. Higginbotham. + +These several climaxes form a perfect series, each a little higher than +its predecessor, and all logically culminating in the chief climax of +the story in ¶ 49; and by this progressive and culminative effect they +go far to preserve the sense of unity which their presence endangers. +Such real if minor climaxes are entirely different from the several +stages of the story illustrated in Chapter IX by James' "The Lesson of +the Master." + +The novice usually has some hazy conception of the importance of a +climax, and endeavors according to his lights to attain the desired +effect, but he is seldom successful. Most frequently he is handicapped +by his plot, which is not designed to produce a successful climax. If +he has escaped that danger he is liable to ruin a possible good climax +by too abrupt an introduction. His nearest approach to success is what +may be called a "false" or "technical" climax, in the use of which he is +very skillful--too skillful, indeed, for his own good. This false climax +is produced by breaking off the narrative abruptly the moment the +suspense of the story is terminated. It is really an abrupt conclusion, +and not a climax at all; and it produces the jump in the reader's mind +by its suddenness, and not by its concentrated force. It is sometimes +made more pointed by the use of italics or capitals. Thus the following +final paragraphs, which are typical of the work of the novice, have no +hint of a climax as they stand: + + ... Mrs. Moore sat gazing into the glowing grate. + + "Well, truants, where have you been all this time? I--" She + stopped suddenly as she saw Nettie's blushes, and the happy look + on Guy's face. + + "Mother, Nettie has made me the happiest man in existence, by + consenting to be my wife. And we have come to ask your + blessing." + + "It is heartily given, my dear children. Nothing could give me + more pleasure than to see you two happily married," said she, + kissing them. "By the way, how did you young people happen to + make this wonderful discovery?" + + "Well, mother, I have had some serious thoughts about the matter + ever since I surprised you and Nettie last September, but I + never dared to put my thoughts into words till to-day." + + "I don't remember that you surprised Nettie. She was out in the + orchard, she told me, when you arrived." + + "Yes, I believe I remember finding her in the orchard," and he + gave a ludicrous description of their first meeting. + + "That accounts for Nettie's blushes when I introduced you that + day. You won't go west now, will you, Guy?" + + "I shall have to, mother; but I'll sell out at the first + opportunity. In the meantime I think we had better notify aunt + Adams that she is doomed to have a son-in-law." + + "I have thought of an excellent plan," said Nettie. "Let's all + go east for the holidays. Only, for goodness' sake, don't tell + Edith and Maud about my exploits in the apple tree. They would + be so shocked at my lack of dignity." + + So the following week they started for Nettie's home. Guy soon + won Mrs. Adams' consent to her daughter's marriage, which was + arranged to take place the following September. + + "That is the month in which the old apple tree bears its most + delicious fruit," Guy whispered to Nettie. + +If, however, the author had stopped with the third paragraph, he would +have had at least a false or technical climax. This false climax must +not be confused with the coincident real climax and abrupt ending +discussed further on. + +When the climax has come the story has reached its end and the quicker +you terminate it the better your reader will be pleased. With the +passing of the climax interest ceases, and you have only to gather up +and explain the few unsettled points, and round off your narrative +gracefully. Any further interest in your characters is little more +than a sense of politeness due to old acquaintances; or, at most, a +psychological desire for complete impressions. So when you have told +your tale, end it. + +For the conclusion, as for the beginning, one paragraph is about the +average length. The practice differs, of course, with different writers +and different stories, but there is not so much variance as in the +beginnings. An effective climax often completes a story in the most +satisfactory way. In "The Ambitious Guest" Hawthorne employs three +paragraphs (¶ 42-44), exclusive of the climax itself, to conclude the +story. Each of these three paragraphs contains matter necessary to the +completion of the tale in Hawthorne's style. It is probable that a +modern writer would have condensed them into a single paragraph, because +of the modern demand for extreme compression; but with the possible +exception of the last two sentences of ¶ 44 there is nothing irrelevant +in the conclusion. In "The Birthmark," and "Young Goodman Brown," +Hawthorne uses but a single paragraph for his conclusion. + +The conclusion and the climax should be as nearly simultaneous as +possible. The present tendency is to make them coincide, and so increase +the effect of the climax by making it the actual end of the story, as it +is the end of the interest. It is not always that the coincidence can be +perfect, but many a story could be cut short immediately after the +climax, and be much improved thereby. For example, if Hawthorne had +written "The Ambitious Guest" to-day it is probable that he would have +ended it with ¶ 44: "The slide! The slide!" Had he done so he would +certainly have given additional force to his climax, strong though it is +now; and I believe that any reader would have understood perfectly all +that is contained in ¶ 42-44. You must be careful, however, in the use +of this style of conclusion, lest your supposed climax is merely an +abrupt ending--a false climax--which leaves unsettled some things which +a further conclusion should make clear. Not every plot allows an abrupt +ending, even though it may have a good climax, and you must suit your +method to your matter. In any case, the story must convey a complete +impression. + +But the conclusion must not be padded with irrelevant matter to make +it appear rounded, or to please the perverted taste of the writer. The +end is allowed scant space and has even less room for sage observations, +or pointing of morals, or lamentations over the sins or misfortunes +portrayed than have the other parts of the story. In the example already +quoted the narrative drags on for some nine paragraphs after the story +is really ended, without adding anything of interest or value. Happily +such conclusions are infrequent, but the best of writers are +occasionally dragged into them through their reluctance to quit +forever scenes and people that have grown dear to them through close +association. A somewhat similar method of padding out the conclusion to +the detriment of the story is to end with a catch word referring to the +beginning, as in the following example, where the "blackberry girl" is a +reminder of the title: + + I hope these few surprises of mine may serve as a lesson to some + young man, and help to teach him to prove true to his first + love, though she may appear to be only a poor girl--yes, even a + "blackberry girl." + +Of all poor conclusions the conventional is most to be feared by the +novice, for it is surely fatal to the story to which it is attached. If +the story is conventional in plot and treatment it is inevitable that +its ending should be conventional, so here again we see the necessity of +originality of plot. But too often a writer, after having successfully +carried his story past the climax, will grow weary or careless and end +it with the conventional ideas and phrases which were worn threadbare +ages ago. + +The inexperienced writer of the gentler sex is peculiarly liable to be +guilty of using conventional endings. To her mind, apparently, the chief +end of man is marriage, and the proper end of a story is a wedding. It +must be acknowledged that this is the only logical conclusion to her +stories, for from the moment they appear in the opening paragraphs the +reader knows that in the last the hero will marry the heroine, willy +nilly, at the behest of the matchmaking "authoress." "To the author, who +has suffered with and on account of his characters more intensely than +any reader can suffer, there is something amusing in this anxiety to +have the old formula, 'And they all lived happy ever afterwards,' +repeated at the end of every tale. A tiny _bonne bouche_ of happiness +is so inadequate after some stories of sorrow that it seems almost an +irony to offer it to the readers; and yet, like children who have taken +a bitter medicine, they are very likely to complain that they have had +no taste of sweetness, if it is not offered to them.... The common +feeling that death is inevitably sad is responsible for much of the +stress which is laid upon the endings of books. That, and the belief +that people who love each other can have no joy or benefit of life if +they must live apart, have set up two formal and arbitrary conditions +which a story must fulfil in order to be considered cheerful. The +principal characters may go through fire and water if necessary, but +they must get rid of their smoke stains and dry their costumes in time +to appear alive and smiling in the final chapter; and the hero and the +heroine must marry each other, or, if the writer has allowed their +affections to wander further afield, they must at least marry the people +of their choice. These, of course, are not the standards of the most +thoughtful readers, and yet, like all conventionalities, they extend +further than an author likes to believe."[43] + +The fact is, however, that if real people were constantly thrown at one +another's heads so determinedly it would take a stronger power than even +the omnipotent literary aspirant to force them into matrimony. Nor are +weddings, or descriptions thereof, particularly delectable reading when +they desert the society column for the short story. They are usually +very much alike--though one original writer did perform her ceremony up +a tree--and the bride always wears the same dresses and smiles the same +smiles and weeps the same tears. So if you _must_ have a wedding, let +the reader off with the classic formula, "And so they were married and +lived happily ever after;" but don't inflict on him such cheap +sentimentalism as this: + + Christmas morning was clear, cold and bright, just such a + morning as had marked Fred's first departure from the Blanford's + some three years before. + + Grace's sisters had come home to take charge of affairs for the + day and evening so Grace did not have much to see after but + herself. Fred, supposing he would rather be in the way, did not + arrive until about an hour before the ceremony was to take + place, which was in the evening. A good many guests were invited + and as they had already begun to arrive, Grace but barely had + time to greet Fred, when she found she must withdraw and don her + wedding garment. + + If Grace had looked pretty with her gown held up about her a few + weeks ago, she now looked handsome indeed as she came into the + well crowded room. + + Her rich silk gown fell in deep soft folds at her dainty feet. + The soft creamy lace fell about her well shaped neck in + clusters; the color of the gown made her hair and eyes look + black as jet; and the excitement still kept the roses in her + cheeks. Fred did not look so handsome, but no one could help + admire the manly form as he stood beside Grace answering the + questions that were to acknowledge them man and wife. + + As soon as the ceremony was over and congratulations had been + extended to the bride and groom, they were ushered in to a + nicely prepared supper. A merry Christmas evening was spent. + Grace's brothers did not lose their housekeeper, as she and Fred + made their home with them. + + They spent their days not like the hurrying brook, but grasped + all the sunshine that was meant for them. + +And in general it is much better--better art and better manners--for you +to draw the reader politely aside as soon as the heroine has whispered +the inevitable "Yes;" for what follows should not be spied upon by any +third party. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 42: See "preparation for the climax" in Chapter IX.] + +[Footnote 43: "The Problem of Endings," by Mary Tracy Earle. _The Book +Buyer._ Aug. '98.] + + + + +XI + +THE STYLE + + +The method of presentation of the short story is a matter of import. +Its very artificiality calls for skilled workmanship; it must be made +pleasant and readable by all known devices; its brevity, too, permits +and demands a higher finish than is necessary in the novel. And +altogether the short story offers a writer who is not exactly a +genius a rare chance to show his ability as an artist in words. +Hence the question of style is of serious moment. + +Style is so much a matter of individuality, and the short story +comprises so broad a range of subjects, that it is not easy to lay down +general rules concerning the proper style. No two masters would or could +treat the same plot in precisely the same way, and yet the method of +each would be correct. However, certain generalizations concerning the +style of the short story may be made without being arbitrary. As always +in literature, the style should be appropriate to the matter. This may +seem entirely gratuitous, yet the examination of the work of amateurs +will justify the remark. They are apt to treat serious subjects with the +most unbecoming levity, and to dress commonplaces in an absurdly ornate +style; and at times they so far disregard propriety that they offend +against good taste. + +The style of the short story should be simple, easy and concise. Usually +the matter is not of great moment; it is incidental rather than +critical; and it offers little reason for exaggerated expressions, or +rotund periods. Above all it should be natural, for the short story, +despite its many conventionalities, is very near to nature. The extreme +sensationalism affected by many amateurs is most absurd, for nature and +things true to nature can never be really sensational--a fact which is +unconsciously recognized by the offending writer in his resort to +artificial means to make his narrative sensational. I say "extreme +sensationalism" because I believe a certain amount of what is commonly +designated sensationalism is permissible in the short story to sustain +the interest, and to produce that delightful "thrill" which accompanies +a clever scene. The best rule for the novice is to stick close to +nature--that is, to fact. He may present what startling effects he will +so that he can prove them copies of nature, and so that they do not +offend against art; but it is not permitted him to harrow the feelings +of his readers by unduly dwelling upon exciting topics. Any undue +exaggeration of this style, or any attempt to create excitement by sheer +force of italics, capitals and exclamation points, is in extremely bad +taste. It at once disgusts the intelligent reader, and it will soon so +weary even the ignorant that he will yawn drearily over the most +startling display of "scare" lines. + +The necessity for a simple style must not be made an excuse for +commonplaceness; and here the author confronts rather a serious +question, for everyday life abounds in commonplaces, which literature +will not tolerate. If we make our stories readable we must, in some +degree, represent life; if we represent life we cannot wholly avoid +commonplaces; if we do not avoid commonplaces we become unliterary. +However, the difficulty is more easily solved than at first appears, and +the solution lies in the very life which we portray. Life certainly is +full of the baldest facts, but they are so subordinated to the +relatively few but important events by which our lives are checkered +that we shortly forget the commonplaces and remember only the striking +occurrences. In like manner we should so preserve the proportion of our +stories that the necessary commonplaces, while they properly perform +their parts, shall be carefully subjugated to the interesting +happenings. This is largely a matter of the handling, for in fiction +events seem great or small in accordance with the space and treatment +that they receive. The way, then, to dispose of commonplaces is to +slight them as much as possible: to crowd them into the least possible +space, and to couch them in ordinary language; for thoughts that are +rendered unusual by their expression become conspicuous. + +By ordinary language I do not mean the stereotyped phrases which the +mentally lazy employ in the expression of their thoughts, but the +simple, correct and rather colorless speech which is heard among the +truly cultured. Indeed, sensationalism is preferable to the deadly +monotony of the writer who is wont to clothe his ideas in the ready-made +garments of conventional phrases; for sensationalism has at least the +merit of vividness. The writer who penned the following could hardly +have been more absurdly commonplace and stereotyped in his phraseology +if he had been ridiculing some "popular" author of cheap literature, +but he wrote in serious earnest; the story throughout is a perfect gold +mine of such hackneyed expressions. I have italicized the most +offensive, though it is hardly necessary. + + _Faint rumors_ of a church scandal _permeated the very + atmosphere_ in Frankton, and every one was _on the alert_ to + _catch the faintest whisper_ in regard to the matter; as the + minister was a _social favorite_, and it was known by _an inside + few_ that he was the one most seriously involved. + + For a long time the matter was suppressed, and then first one + hint after another leaked out that Mrs. Daniels, the minister's + wife, was _a most unhappy woman_, and that there was _another + woman in the case_. + + At first the members of the congregation hooted at the idea; but + when item after item of scandal came to their notice they begun + to take a little notice, and it was noticeable that a good many + enquiries were _going the rounds, "just to satisfy themselves_ + as to the ridiculous part of it", so the _curiosity seekers_ + explained. + +Other writers attempt to make their commonplaces literary by couching +them in stilted language, and then we have what is technically termed +"fine writing." It is to this tendency that we owe such phrases as, +"After the customary salutations he sought the arms of Morpheus," and +"Upon rising in the morning he partook of an abundant repast," when the +author meant merely to say, "After saying good night he went to bed," +and "He breakfasted." This error is due to the mistaken idea that things +which are common are necessarily vulgar, and to an absurd squeamish +objection to "call a spade, a spade." It is the worst possible way to +handle commonplaces, for it attracts particular attention to the very +things which it is supposed to hide. + +But the writer may purposely subordinate commonplace facts, and yet +suffer from a commonplace style, if he fails to give his narrative +character. It is then that the young writer resorts to the use of +poetry, quoted and original, with which he interlards his stories and +the speeches of his characters. The poetry may be good, even if it is +original, and it may be very apt, but few people in real life quote +poetry in their ordinary speech. You may be well read in poetry and the +kindred arts, but it is hardly the part of modesty or discretion for you +to force your quotations upon a reader who very likely cares neither for +your erudition nor the poets themselves. It is bad technically, too; and +usually, as in the case of the following specimen, shows that the author +has a wider acquaintance with the poets than with the rhetoricians. + +Algernon Long was not a person of unbalanced mind, nor was he +superstitious in his interpretations of signs, visions and dreams to +which so many attach supernatural importance; he was simply a successful +man of the world, full of life and buoyancy, devoted to his occupation, +that of a stock-broker, and to his domestic and social relations. And +yet he believed with Lord Byron, that + + "Our life is twofold; sleep hath its own world, + And a wide realm of wild reality, + And dreams that in their development have breath, + And tears and tortures and the touch of joy; + They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts, + They take a weight from off our waking toils. + They do divide our being, + They speak like sibyls of the future." + +A number of his most cherished friends had recently passed away into +that "undiscovered country, from whose bourne no traveller returns." The +loss to him was intolerable; the experience the most painful he had ever +known. Each case seemed more cruel than its predecessor; to himself +personally most suggestive. He was now in mature manhood, and could +thoroughly appreciate the poet's lines: + + "Life is real, life is earnest, + And the grave is not its goal." + +So strong is the tendency of the short story toward simplicity that even +figures of speech are to be avoided. This does not mean that we are +carefully to discard any expression which savors of the figurative: +such a thing would be absurd, for literature and everyday speech abound +in figurative language which passes current unquestioned. But figures +which are introduced simply for literary effect are unnatural, and so +are to be avoided. They are really digressions, excrescences--beautiful +enough in themselves, perhaps, but assuredly adding no beauty to the +narrative. Principal among such figures employed by amateurs are the +long complex metaphors and similes in which epic poetry delights; the +figure of apostrophe, too, is much affected by tyros, because it affords +them opportunity to coin orotund phrases concerning the irony of fate, +the haplessness of true lovers, and kindred favorite topics. + +Foreign words and phrases form another sad stumbling block in the way of +a simple natural style. They have their uses, of course--and one is to +betray the novice. He fondly imagines that a sprinkling of French +phrases gives his narrative a delightful air of cosmopolitanism; and +that as an evidence of "culture" a line from Horace or Homer is equal +to a college degree. So he thumbs the back of his dictionary, culls +therefrom trite quotations with which to deck his writing, and never +uses an English word when he knows a similar French one. The employment +of a foreign word or phrase to express an idea which can be equally well +couched in English is the cheapest sort of a literary trick, and it is +the unmistakable badge of hopeless mediocrity and self-complacency. +Expressions from other languages may be judiciously and legitimately +used to give local color, and they are, of course, indispensable in the +speeches of certain character types; but as a rule there is no better +medium for your thoughts than good wholesome English. + +You will notice that I specify the sort of English you should use, for +many who avoid foreign idioms fall into the equally bad habit of using +poor and incorrect English. I am not referring to the speeches of the +characters, whose privileges in this respect I have already discussed; +but in the necessary introductory and connective phrases you should take +exquisite pains to keep your English pure. The use of slang is of course +absolutely inexcusable, for it offends against good taste as well as +good rhetoric; but the employment of words in a careless or perverted +meaning is equally condemnable. It is also a mistake to use too many +adjectives, to throw every adjective and adverb into the superlative +degree, and in other ways to exaggerate every expression which you +use. Much of this misuse of words is due to ignorance, but more to +carelessness or laziness; in any case you can detect your faults if +you seek for them, and you should take immediate steps to correct +them, with the help of a dictionary, or a rhetoric, or both. + +The style of the short story should be easy and flowing, so that it +shall be pleasant reading. Good ideas may be expressed in good language +and still be afflicted with a nervousness or stiffness of style that +will make the work difficult of perusal, and so lessen its power to +hold the reader. One of the first requisites for this desired ease is +a lightness of phrasing which is at once a matter of thought and of +rhetorical construction. Try to avoid heaviness and austerity of thought +as much as you would similar qualities in writing. Get at the lighter, +brighter, perhaps more frivolous side of things; do not take your work +too seriously, you are seldom writing tragedies; permit yourself to be +humorous, witty, a little ironical; do not plunge too deeply into dark +abysses of metaphysics or theology. I do not mean that you should not +treat of serious things, or that you should make light of serious +subjects; but there are several ways of looking at any matter, and the +atmosphere of intense and morbid gloom which Poe casts over so many of +his weird tales is not characteristic of the short story in general. At +the same time I am far from advocating flippancy or superficiality, for +both are deadly sins in literature. I merely wish to impress upon you +the absurdity of the solemn tone which some amateurs seem to think a +mark of depth of thought or feeling. An apt, simple phrase is the most +forceful means of expression known to literature. + +Your bright thoughts should be expressed in words and sentences which +are in themselves light and easy. There is a good deal of difference +between words which may mean the same thing, and it is not altogether +a matter of length. Words which are heavy and lumbering, or harsh, or +suggestive of unpleasant thoughts, should be used with care, for their +thoughtless introduction will often injure the ease of a passage. Tone +color in words is of almost as much importance in prose as in verse. + +Similarly the sentence structure should be carefully tested for ease. +The periodic style should be practically tabooed: it is seldom +appropriate to the matter of the short story, and it is always heavy +and retarding. The very short sentence, which is so typical of the +French, may be used only in moderation, for its excessive employment +gives a nervous jerky style which is tiresome and irritating. Among +American writers Stephen Crane is an awful example of this +"bumpety-bump" method of expression, though his later works show a +tendency to greater ease. The exclamatory and interrogative sentences, +of which amateurs use so many, under the mistaken impression that they +lend vivacity and vividness, should be totally eschewed. They offend +against almost every principle of the short story, and they have nothing +to recommend them. Usually they are irrelevant and inartistic asides by +the author. The proper sentence structure for the bulk of the short +story is the simple straightforward declarative sentence, rather loose, +of medium length, tending to short at times to avoid monotony and give +vividness. + +Exclamation points must be used sparingly: a row of three or four of +them at the end of a sentence is a sign of amateurism. The mere presence +of a point of punctuation will not make a thrilling sentence or produce +a climax. Punctuation marks are designed to draw attention to what +already exists, and they have no inherent power to create interest. Very +few sentences really need or merit a mark of exclamation; and if they +are properly constructed the reader will feel the exclamatory force, +whether the point is expressed or not. Italics, as a method of emphasis, +are seldom necessary in a well-written story. They, too, are signs of +what has already been expressed, and not the expression of a new force. +A word or a phrase which needs sufficient emphasis to excuse italics +should be so placed that the reader will involuntarily give it the +proper stress; and an expression thus brought into notice far exceeds in +importance one which owes its prominence to a mere change in type. Words +in still more staring type--small capitals or capitals--are entirely out +of place. + +Finally, the style of the short story should be concise. "One of the +difficulties of the short story, the short story shares with the actual +drama, and that is the indispensableness of compression--the need that +every sentence shall tell."[44] It is not sufficient that all irrelevant +ideas be carefully pruned away; all unnecessary fullness of expression +must likewise be cut, that the phrasing of the story may always be crisp +and to the point. This is sometimes a matter of the expunging of a +superfluous word or phrase; but it is fully as often a recasting of a +sentence so as to avoid redundancy. The object of this conciseness is +twofold: to waste as little as possible of the valuable and abridged +space of the short story, and to make the movement of the language as +quick as the action of the plot. + +The fault to be avoided here is commonly called "padding." Briefly +speaking the term padding, as applied to a piece of literature, denotes +the presence of irrelevant matter. It may consist of the introduction of +scenes, persons, episodes, conversations or general observations which +have no part in advancing the action; or, more dangerous still, it may +consist of the presence of occasional words and phrases which lengthen +and perhaps round out the sentences without adding to their value. +Irrelevant scenes, persons, episodes, conversations and general +observations have already been discussed at length, and need no further +treatment here. But I must warn the novice against that most insidious +form of padding which is responsible for so many long and dreary +sentences, cluttered with repetitious words and phrases which retard the +narrative and exasperate the reader. This redundancy is a rhetorical +fault, which is best corrected by a return to the old school day methods +of testing a sentence for coherence. It must be corrected, and that +vigorously and radically, for it is fatal to a good short story style. +An instance of how much stress editors lay upon procuring only the +"concentrated extract of the story-teller's art" may be found in a +letter received by a young writer from the editor of a prominent +publication: "We will pay $100 for your story as it is. If you can +reduce it a third, we will pay you $150; if a half, $200." + +Concise must not be understood to mean exhaustive, for it is bad policy +to leave nothing to the imagination of the reader. The average person is +fond of reading between the lines, and usually prides himself upon his +ability in this respect; accordingly he is easily exasperated with the +exhaustive style which leaves no chance for the exercise of his subtle +power, while he takes huge delight in expanding the sly hints which the +knowing writer throws out for his benefit. Such a reader never stops to +consider that he has fallen into a skillfully laid trap; he compliments +the author upon his artistic method and turns from the story well +pleased with himself and with the writer. There is, however, something +more than a pampering of pride in the charm of this suggestive method: +it enables the writer to cast a light veil of uncertainty over rather +bald facts, and thus to maintain that romantic glamour of unreality +which plays so important a part in fiction. + +A good style can be acquired by the exercise of knowledge, patience and +labor. The first requisite is a practical working knowledge of rhetoric +and English composition. It seems absurd to suppose that any one would +attempt to write stories without being able to write correct English, +but at least two-thirds of the stories submitted to editors contain +inexcusable grammatical and rhetorical errors; and many of the faults +which I have found it necessary to discuss in the first part of this +chapter are matters of rhetoric. If you cannot write correct English +now, set about perfecting yourself in that respect before you dare to +essay story telling. There are books and correspondence courses galore +which will assist you. If you won't do that you had better turn your +energies in some other direction, for you have neither the courage nor +the spirit necessary for a successful short story writer. + +Your next duty is to cultivate your individuality. "Style is the +personal impress which a writer inevitably sets upon his production. It +is that character in what is written which results from the fact that +these thoughts and emotions have been those of the author rather than of +any other human being. It is the expression of one man's individuality, +as sure and as unique as the sound of his voice, the look from his eye, +or the imprint of his thumb."[45] Every person who has any call to write +has a strong personality--an original manner of looking at life and of +treating its problems. He wishes so to influence the world by this +personality that it will consent to see through his eyes, or will at +least listen patiently to what he sees. It is this ego, this that is the +man himself, that he really desires to show through his writings. His +first step, then, is to cultivate this individuality, to train his +originality, so to speak, in order that he may see everything in a new +and distinctive light. He should also give attention to the expression +of his personality. It is not sufficient that he shall see life at a +new angle, but he must so train himself that he shall be able to put in +an original way the new phases which his individuality has discovered. +It is this expression of the individuality which causes so much trouble, +for hundreds of stories are written which show originality in +conception, but which fall into conventionality in the execution. The +best way to express your personality is to be perfectly natural, and say +exactly what you think; any labored striving after effects will produce +an artificial style which will be fatal to success. + +It is a great aid to the attainment of a good style thoroughly to +understand your own mind before you put pen to paper. It may seem odd +that you should be ignorant of your own ideas on a subject, but often +difficulty of expression is due to indecision of mind. Vagueness or +confusion of ideas in a writer's mind is always the precursor of a poor +style. Too often, struck by a happy thought, he attempts to put it on +paper before it has yet sufficient definiteness of form to justify +expression, and when he would project it into writing he loses the +thought in a mass of the very words in which he seeks to voice it. +Again, the writer's mind may contain several jumbled ideas, each one +good in itself but totally independent of the others; and if he attempts +to express any particular one before it has had time to disentangle +itself, it is bound to bring with it portions of other and distinct +ideas. Clear thinking is the basis of clear writing; and clear writing +prevents the chief errors that threaten your style. + +Study the stories of great writers; you know what parts most trouble +you--compare your work with that of others and see how they have +obtained the effect that you desire to produce. It is not wise to limit +your study to any one writer. Your style should possess a certain +flexibility, to enable it to adapt itself readily to your varying +themes, and you should master the methods of all good writers; if you +have sufficient individuality to have any excuse for writing you need +have little fear of imitating them too closely. For style alone it is +better to confine yourself to the more modern writers. There is always a +change in style, if not exactly a progression, from one literary +generation to the next, and you should aim at conformity to the canons +of your own age. Those early masters of the short story, Irving, +Hawthorne and Poe, had a tendency toward a diffuse, almost discursive +style, which is not much in vogue now. Their ease and elegance are most +commendable, but they lost somewhat more in force and conciseness than +is thought correct to-day. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 44: "The Short Story," by Frederick Wedmore. _Nineteenth +Century._ Mar., '98.] + +[Footnote 45: "Talks on Writing English," by Arlo Bates. Chapter on +"Style."] + + + + +XII + +THE LABOR OF AUTHORSHIP + + +Because literature is an art and you have a leaning toward it, do not +therefore consider yourself a genius and so exempt from work. There is +no royal road to success, and no one ever yet won a high place in the +world of letters who did not earn it by the sweat of his brow. In these +days literature is just as much a trade as boilermaking: it has its +tools and its rules; and if one likes his occupation, he will naturally +make better stories--or boilers. That is all there is to genius--the +matter of aptitude for a certain thing; and even that can be to a great +degree cultivated. If a man, with absolutely no knowledge of the tools +and methods of the craft, attempt to make a boiler, he will create a +deal of noise but no boilers, though he may be well pleased with his own +efforts; and so it is with writing. + +So even if your literary efforts are praised by friends and published by +local editors, don't get the idea into your head that the world at large +is sighing for the products of your pen: it is far more likely that +your friends' encouragement is prompted rather by regard for you than by +any real merit in your work, and that the editor's chief desire is to +get cheap copy. You will learn later that the truest estimate of your +work comes from those who know you the least, and that usually criticism +is valuable in inverse proportion to the regard which the critic has for +you. If, however, you feel that, whatever the real worth of your present +work, there is that within you which demands utterance, you will +modestly accept this early adulation as prophetic of the true fame to +come, and will go about your writing in all humility and seriousness, +with that careful, plodding application which alone succeeds. + +Since as a story writer you purpose handling life in all its varied +phases, it is necessary that you should acquire an intimate knowledge of +it. This you may do in several ways, as already indicated in Chapter V., +but do it you must, and seriously. You must have in your possession and +ready for instant use a large and varied assortment of facts, incidents, +odd characters, impressions, and all the other miscellaneous details +that go to the making of a good story. However you may gain this +material it is best not to depend too much on your memory to retain it +and to produce it promptly at the proper time. The human memory is apt +to be treacherous and unreliable. It will very likely fail to retain the +important details of a usable actual occurrence, as well as the bright +idea in connection with it which flashed across your mind when first you +found it. The only safe way is for you to keep a scrap book and a note +book, or perhaps a combination of the two, in which you may preserve +crude material, bright ideas, and all sorts of odds and ends which you +think may be of use to you at some future day. Much that you carefully +preserve will never be of service to you, but you cannot afford to risk +losing possible good matter through failure to make note of it. "I would +counsel the young writer to keep a note book, and to make, as regards +the use of it, _nulla dies sine linea_ his revered motto. It is a great +deal better that he should have his notes too copious than too meagre. +By filling page after page with jottings of thoughts, fancies, +impressions, even doubts and surmises of the vaguest kind--of a kind +which he himself can only understand at the time and perhaps may +afterward fail to recollect when re-reading them--he will never, in the +long run, account himself a loser."[46] + +When finally putting your ideas into concrete form do not depend too +much on the "moment of inspiration." It is not my intention to ridicule +this most valuable incentive to artistic work. I believe in it +thoroughly when it is genuine, and I would advise you to take all +advantage of it. Dash off your story as swiftly as you will--the swifter +the better, for if it runs easily from your pen it stands a better +chance of being spontaneous. But we are not all of us gifted with the +ability to work in this manner, nor will all themes permit of such +treatment. A short story that you can rush through at a sitting should +be viewed with skepticism: either it is a perfect work of genius, and +you have a Heaven-sent call to write; or, and more probably, it is too +trite and trivial to justify the expenditure of serious labor upon it, +and your "inspiration" was merely a flush of vanity. "As for trusting +to the 'inspired moment,' or waiting for it, or deploring its delay, +he (the young author) should take heed how he permits any such folly or +superstition to clutch him in its vitiating grasp. 'Inspiration' either +means, with a writer, good mental and physical health, or it has no +meaning whatever.... Late hours and stimulants are especially fatal +to the young writer when both are employed in the sense of literary +co-adjutors."[47] + +"There is, I believe, no greater fallacy than trusting to inspiration, +except that of believing that a certain mood is necessary for writing. +Ninety-nine hundredths of the best literary work is done by men who +write to live, who know that they must write, and who do write, whether +the weather is fine or rainy, whether they like their breakfast or not, +whether they are hot or cold, whether they are in love, happily or +unhappily, with women or themselves. Of course, a man who has lived by +his pen for years, finds out by experience the hours for working which +suit him best; but a beginner should be methodical. He should go to his +desk as any other workman goes to his work, after breakfast; rest and +eat in the middle of the day, and work again in the afternoon. He should +never begin by writing at night, unless he is obliged to do so. He +will, of course, often sit at the table for an hour or more without +writing a word, but if he will only think conscientiously of what he +meant to do, he will find the way to do it. The evening is the time to +read, and the night is the time to sleep."[48] + +This dependence on genius and inspiration is one of the reasons why +the world is so full of unliterary writers, and why so many of real +talent fail of success. It is very easy, in the flush of composition, +to consider yourself gifted above your fellows, and to go on writing +reams of bosh that even you would despise, if you could view it with +an unprejudiced eye; and it is equally easy to persuade yourself that +anything that comes from your pen must be incapable of improvement, +and that if your writings sell, you have reached the goal. But either +delusion is fatal. In short, "inspiration" and all its attendant +follies are but the conventional accompaniments of literary toil, +which may be affected by the _dilettante_ for the furthering of his +pretense at art, but which have no place in the thoughts or plans of +the serious worker. + +Such inspiration as you may need to keep your work fresh and artistic +will come to you from the zeal and interest with which you approach your +task. If you go to it half-heartedly, lazy in body and mind, and ready +at the first opportunity to put it all off till the morrow, you will +accomplish little, then or ever; but if, on the contrary, you will +square yourself to your writing as to a physical labor, and will +concentrate all the powers and energies of your mind upon the work in +hand, the very force of your will and your desire will create within you +an enthusiasm which will be of far more practical value to you than any +cheap inspiration drawn from some Parnassian spring. You can, in fact, +by this very business-like method of working, create on demand a species +of inspiration, or mental vigor, which will enable you, not exactly to +dash off a masterpiece with no real effort on your part, but to achieve +by actual labor those things which you desire to do. There is much, too, +in going to your work regularly, even as a carpenter to his bench; for +the mental processes that produce good short stories are capable of +cultivation and control; and, like all functions of the brain, they +approach the nearest to perfection when they fall into something of a +routine of habit. Indeed, they may be so far regulated that at the +usual hour for their exercise they will be not only active but urgent, +so that you will go to your work with an appetite as hearty as that with +which you welcome the dinner hour. + +Do not be afraid of the manual labor of authorship--the writing and +rewriting, the testing and correcting, the persistent and thorough +"licking into shape" which gives the final polish to your work. Never +send an editor a penciled, smutched, and disorderly MS., with a note +saying, "I just dashed this off last night and send it right on." Such +work is foredoomed to failure. But when your story is finished lay it +away without even reading it over and let it get "cold;" leave it for a +week, or two weeks, or even longer if possible--don't even think of it; +then bring it forth and read it over carefully and critically, take your +blue pencil, harden your heart, and rework it ruthlessly. In the first +draft you are bound to slight certain places or to make certain errors, +which you would correct in the course of a careful revision. There will +be some half-formed thought which will need elaboration, or some word +which was not quite the right one, but which you let pass lest you lose +your train of thought; and there is almost sure to be some wordiness +which will need cutting away. + +"For, if the practice of composition be useful, the laborious work of +correcting is no less so: it is indeed absolutely necessary to our +reaping any benefit from the habit of composition. What we have written +should be laid by for some little time, till the ardor of composition be +past, till the fondness for the expressions we have used be worn off, +and the expressions themselves be forgotten; and then reviewing our work +with a cool and critical eye, as if it were the performance of another, +we shall discern many imperfections which at first escaped us. Then is +the right season for pruning redundances; for weighing the arrangement +of sentences; for attending to the junctures and connecting particles; +and bringing style into a regular, correct, and supported form. This +'_Limae Labor_' must be submitted to by all who communicate their +thoughts with proper advantage to others; and some practice in it will +soon sharpen their eye to the most necessary objects of attention, and +render it a much more easy and practicable work than might at first be +imagined."[49] + +It is this last careful, minute testing and polishing which will +determine whether or no you are serious in your endeavor to break into +literature, for here the real labor of authorship begins. All that went +before was simply child's play compared to this grubbing, plodding, +tinkering, and patching, and pottering; so if you have no stomach for +this, you had better learn a trade. "Whatever you do, take pains with +it. Try at least to write good English: learn to criticise and correct +your work: put your best into every sentence. If you are too lazy and +careless to do that, better go into a trade or politics: it is easier to +become a Congressman or millionaire than a real author, and we have too +many bad story-tellers as it is."[50] If you will pursue this labor of +revision courageously you will speedily find an improvement in the +quality of your finished work. You will also find that your manuscripts +need less after attention, for the lessons learned in these careful +re-workings will be unconsciously applied during composition. + +"From the alphabetic slovenliness which will not form its letters +legibly nor put in its commas, to the lack of self-acquaintance which +results in total disability to judge one's own products, it is too +constantly in evidence that those who aspire to feed other minds are +themselves in need of discipline.... It is within bounds to say that not +one accepted manuscript out of ten is fit to go to the printer as it +stands."[51] Do not be so lazy or so careless as to slight the little +things, the mere mechanical details, which go to make a perfect story +and a presentable manuscript. "There are several distinct classes of +errors to look for: faults of grammar, such as the mixing of figures of +speech. Faults of agreement of verbs and participles in number when +collective nouns are referred to. Faults of rhetoric, such as the mixing +of moods and tenses, and the taste, such as the use of words with a +disagreeable or misleading atmosphere about them, though their strict +meaning makes their use correct enough. Faults of repetition of the same +word in differing senses in the same sentence or paragraph. Faults of +tediousness of phrasing or explanation. Faults of lack of clearness in +expressing the exact meaning. Faults of sentimental use of language, +that is, falling into fine phrases which have no distinct meaning--the +most discordant fault of all. Faults of digression in the structure of +the story."[52] + +Faults in grammar and rhetoric are too easily corrected to be allowed +to stand in the way of your success, and I have already showed you how +you may perfect yourself in these essentials. For they are essentials, +and so much more important than many young writers think, that I believe +I am perfectly safe in saying that no one who makes glaring rhetorical +or grammatical errors has ever written a successful short story. In +spelling, too, there is absolutely no excuse for errors; you surely know +if you are weak in this respect, and the use of even a small dictionary +will enable you to avoid mistakes. Every magazine has its own rules for +punctuation and paragraphing, in accordance with which an accepted MS. +is edited before it is given to the compositor; but that is no good +reason why you should neglect to prepare your MS. properly. The general +rules are few and easily understood, and they enable you to give your +work definite form and arrangement, and make it much more easy to read. +An editor who finds a MS. lacking in these lesser essentials will be apt +to throw it aside with but a superficial perusal, naturally judging that +it will also lack the higher attributes. + +Finally, just before sending your story out for editorial +consideration, go over it once more with the utmost care and +painstakingly test every paragraph, every sentence, every word, to see +first if it is necessary, and second if it is right. If at any point you +find yourself questioning what you have written, do not call your work +complete until you have revised it, not only to your own satisfaction, +but so that you honestly feel that the reader, too, will be satisfied. +If you cannot at the time arrive at a satisfactory expression of your +thought, put the story aside for the time being and try again later when +you can come to it afresh. It is this unwearied labor which in the end +spells success. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 46: "Some Advice to Young Authors," by Edward Fawcett. _The +Independent._ May 14, '96.] + +[Footnote 47: "Some Advice to Young Authors," by Edgar Fawcett. _The +Independent._ May 14, '96.] + +[Footnote 48: "The Art of Authorship." Edited by George Bainton. Chapter +by F. Marion Crawford.] + +[Footnote 49: "Lectures on Rhetoric and Belles Letters," by Hugh Blair. +Lecture XIX.] + +[Footnote 50: "Bad Story-Telling," by Frederick M. Bird. _Lippincott's._ +Oct., '97.] + +[Footnote 51: _Ibid._] + +[Footnote 52: "How to Write Fiction." Anonymous. Bellaires & Co., +London. Part II. Chapter IV.] + + + + +XIII + +THE QUEST OF A MARKET + + +Even when his story is complete the writer has not yet come to the end +of his difficulties, for he has still to find a market for his work. +Since he is writing for publication, and not for the mere love of +composition, this quest of a market is an important matter, for by his +success in this respect the writer must judge his chances of ultimate +and material success as a short story writer. There is no disputing the +fact that good work will find acceptance eventually, but sometimes the +delay is so long that the writer almost loses hope. He usually goes +about marketing his wares in a haphazard fashion; and a warning word or +two at this point may enable him to remedy some of the mistakes which +may retard if not prevent the success of really meritorious work. + +In the first place, then, consider your story honestly and without +prejudice, and make sure that it does deserve publication. Get an +unbiased opinion on it from some real critic, if you can, and give some +weight to what he says. Never, like many novices I have known, send out +a MS. with an accompanying note saying that you know your story is not +quite up to standard, and that you could improve it if you had the time, +but that you hope the editor will make an exception in your favor in +order to encourage you. Editors are not paid to do that sort of thing; +and if you yourself have not complete confidence in your story you have +no business to inflict it upon an editor. If you enter the profession of +story writing in that spirit you will fail, absolutely and deservedly, +to gain aught but rebuffs by your labors; and indeed, your labor will be +so slight and half hearted that you cannot honestly expect any +satisfactory return from it. + +Emerson's advice, "Hitch your wagon to a star," is an excellent rule for +the young writer. With you literature may be a profession as well as an +art, but you should not permit yourself to be too easily satisfied with +material success. Do not be content just because you get your work +published, or because you are sure you write as well as some of your +contemporaries; always try to rise above the crowd and to be one of +the few who set the standard for the multitude. If your stories are +accepted by one magazine, try to "break into" another that is a little +more particular; if you succeed in one style of literature, try to win +laurels in a higher class of work. It is this constant striving that +brings ultimate success--financial and artistic. If you allow yourself +to be easily content with your work and your receipts therefrom, you +will speedily fall into a rut, become "old fogy" and dull, and one day +will find yourself with a desk full of rejected MSS., and no hope for +a brighter future. + +At the same time, there are almost as many grades of stories as there +are publications using them, and with but few exceptions you may +endeavor to satisfy all tastes. A story which is too slight for a +high class magazine may be well adapted to the needs of a newspaper +syndicate; and though it would be fatal for you to take the newspaper +story for your standard, there can be no objection to your making +occasional contributions to that class of literature. Indeed, it is +probable that at the outset you will be forced to content yourself with +writing for syndicates and minor magazines, though you may aim for the +pages of the best monthlies: those old established publications are both +conservative and overstocked, and though they are ready enough to +examine MSS., they are slow to accept the work of a young writer. But +even among the few magazines which can be called first class there are +wide differences of opinion as to what constitutes a good story, and a +MS. which one will reject decidedly another may accept gladly. It is +your first business to acquaint yourself with the general style of the +magazine to which you desire to contribute; or, if your story is already +written, to make sure that its acceptance is not forbidden by the policy +of the publication to which you submit it. It is a waste of time and +postage to send a story of adventure to a magazine which publishes only +tales of love. + +The timeliness, or seasonal appropriateness, of a story may have much +influence upon its success in the market. Each season of the year has +its peculiar literature, and editors in general place so much stress +upon timeliness that a glance at the contents of a magazine will often +tell you within a month of its date of issue. There are the blizzard +stories, which are due about January; and the vacation stories, which +begin to appear in July, and the stories of holly and mistletoe and +stockings, which come with the Christmas season. Likewise, we have +special stories for New Years', St. Valentine's Day, Washington's +Birthday, Easter, May Day, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, +and a host of minor special occasions. The plot and matter for these +stories of occasions are so trite and conventional that it is a wonder +that the reading public did not rebel against them long ago; but there +is a constant demand for such stories, and the writer who can give the +old plots some freshness is sure of a good market. Such stories should +always be submitted at least three months before they are to be used, +for special editions are compiled far in advance; but a story of this +character is always a marketable commodity and may be carried over +from year to year without deterioration. + +Of a more ephemeral type are the stories whose timeliness depends upon +their coinciding with the current fashion in short stories. For there +are fashions in literature just as surely as in matters of dress, and +short stories are peculiarly subject to such changes. A few years ago +dialect was all the cry, and a story was judged and valued according +to the amount of unintelligible gibberish that it contained; before +that romantic adventure was most in demand; and still earlier it was +bald realism; at the time of writing (Spring of 1900) war stories hold +first place in popular esteem. The reason for the present style is +obvious, but in general these modes are difficult to explain and almost +impossible to forecast. Such stories contain no new plot, and for their +timeliness depend entirely upon the introduction of the current fashion, +whatever it may be; but they afford a grateful variety to the rather +monotonous run of light fiction. They also offer the up-to-date writer +unusual opportunities to gain editorial favor, for a story observant of +the current mode is sure of serious consideration. + +You should make it a rule from the start never to give away a story for +the mere sake of seeing your name in print. What is worth writing and +publishing is worth being paid for. Don't let a publisher persuade you +that the appearance of your work in his journal will bring you a fame +and a name that will enable you to sell MSS. elsewhere. Every editor +knows how such a man gets his matter, and values his contributors +accordingly; and every publication which can assist you in your career +pays for whatever matter it uses. Besides, by giving away your stories +you injure the literary market, both for yourself and for your fellow +workers. If all writers resolutely declined to part with their work +except for a cash equivalent, those scheming editors would soon be +brought to time and forced to pay for matter to fill their columns. + +Spare no pains to make your MSS. neat and legible. The fact that you +are as yet little known is undoubtedly against you; your mere name +has no power to exact a careful perusal of your story, and a judgment +in accordance with its merits; so it is your business to gain that +favor by making it easy for the editor. The question of legibility +sums up the whole tale. The average editor always has his desk piled +high with unsolicited MSS. from unknown writers which he must worry +through after a fashion, lest something really good should escape +him. He is conscientious enough, but he is always overworked, and he +has learned by experience to judge a MS. almost at a glance. If he +reads beyond the first page of your story, it is good evidence that +he found there something of merit, even though he finally reject it. +A penciled MS., or one that is written on both sides of the paper, +will hardly get a passing glance. Even a neat pen-written MS. will +fare little better, for to the editor a typewritten story means not +only easy reading but probably some experience on the part of the +author. Have your story typewritten, then, by some one who can put it +in presentable shape, so that it will look business like. For mailing +it is best to fold it as little as possible; the large legal +envelope, requiring two folds, is most used. Unless the MS. is bulky +or is on unusually small sheets, it is best to fold it at least once, +for if sent flat it usually arrives in a crumpled state. Never roll +it, under any circumstances, for a MS. once rolled can never be +smoothed out, and no editor will bother with it. + +Make the letter accompanying your story as short and business like as +possible. Don't tell the editor your family history or relate how you +came to write the story; don't ask him for criticisms or suggestions; +say that you submit such a MS. subject to his approval, and give your +name and address. That is all he cares to know about you. Always enclose +stamps for return of MS.--or, better yet, a stamped and self-addressed +envelope; never be so small or so careless as to underpay the postage. + +It is of course your privilege to put a price upon any matter that you +may submit for publication; but unless the magazine editorially requests +a set price I should advise you to leave that matter to the editor, and +to submit your work "at the usual rates." It is a peculiarity of the +literary business that usually the buyer rather than the seller makes +the terms, and until your name has a value you are hardly in position +to run counter to custom. Nor is it likely that you have had sufficient +experience to enable you to estimate your work justly. You need have +no fear of being cheated, for a reputable publishing house is always +willing to pay a fit price for suitable MSS. + +It will do you no good to get a letter from some well known author or +public person recommending your work to the publisher; and it will often +do harm. Matter from novices is accepted on its merits alone, and no +amount of praise from a man of letters or an influential friend will +make your story one whit better than it was when you gave it the +finishing touches. The most such intercession can accomplish is a +perusal of your MS., and that you can yourself obtain if you will make +it presentable. If you imagine that an editor will be influenced in his +judgment by the words of an outsider, you are sadly mistaken--he is +far more apt to be prejudiced against you. He is an experienced and +competent man, who knows exactly what he wants, and who may naturally +be expected to resent any such impertinent interference with his work. + +It seems a small thing for you to ask an editor to give you a +criticism on your work, and many a young writer has long cherished a +grudge against some editor who has totally ignored his urgent and +flattering request for a candid opinion. There is no question that +even a word from an editor would be of untold value to the novice; +but the novice has no idea what his request means. Every magazine is +at great expense for the employment of trained "readers" to pass upon +the unsolicited MSS. submitted to it, and the according of even a +word of criticism to each would at least double that expense. Then, +too, three-fourths of the MSS. submitted to any editor are such that +he could not honestly say anything good of them, and no editor cares +to go out of his way to hurt the feelings of the writer; nor would it +be policy for him to do so. Every time you submit a MS. to an editor +you are in a manner imposing on him, so be as easy on him as +possible. If you feel that you must have an expert opinion on +your work, send it to one of the literary bureaus which have been +established for just that purpose. They will give you a careful and +just criticism for the payment of a nominal fee. + +Do not rest your hopes of success upon the fate of one MS. If you never +write a new story until its predecessor has been placed you cannot +possibly live long enough to win success. You should be constantly +turning out new stories, each one better than the last; or reworking an +old one whose faults you have just discovered; and you should keep the +mails loaded with your work. You can never have too many good stories on +the road. + +Do not become impatient if you do not receive a check for your story +within a week after sending it out. The largest magazines usually +require three months and sometimes longer to report on a MS. If you +attempt to hurry the editorial decision you will probably receive your +MS. by return mail, unread. + +It is advisable that you keep a MS. memorandum book of some sort, in +which you may record the journeyings of your MSS., so that you may know +where they have been and how long they have been away. You do not want +to send the same MS. to the same editor twice, nor to continue +submitting matter to a magazine which is already overstocked, or which +is careless in returning your work. If you trust to your memory, or to +some slip shod method, you will regret it in the end, for you will not +only lose many MSS., but you will be submitting your work in a +hit-or-miss fashion that is little likely to get it into the proper +hands. There are several books of this sort on the market, or you can +easily make one for yourself from an ordinary blank book. It may take +any form you please, but I would suggest that it should include spaces +for the number of words in the story and the postage required to carry +it, besides the publishers to whom it is submitted and the dates when it +is mailed and returned. + +The rejection of your MS. by one or two editors should not discourage +you: you may try twelve editors and have the thirteenth accept it. It is +seldom indeed that it finds place where it is first submitted: it may +not just meet the ideals of that editor; or he may already have too much +matter on hand. If you believe the story is good, keep it going till it +has been the rounds: you may find that the dawn of success comes from +the point whence you least expected it. + + + + +APPENDIX + +"THE AMBITIOUS GUEST" + +(From Nathaniel Hawthorne's "Twice-Told Tales.") + + +I. One September night a family had gathered round their hearth and +piled it high with the driftwood of mountain-streams, the dry cones of +the pine, and the splintered ruins of great trees that had come crashing +down the precipice. Up the chimney roared the fire, and brightened the +room with its broad blaze. The faces of the father and mother had a +sober gladness; the children laughed. The eldest daughter was the image +of Happiness at seventeen, and the aged grandmother, who sat knitting in +the warmest place, was the image of Happiness grown old. They had found +the "herb heart's-ease" in the bleakest spot of all New England. This +family were situated in the Notch of the White Hills, where the wind was +sharp throughout the year and pitilessly cold in the winter, giving +their cottage all its fresh inclemency before it descended on the valley +of the Saco. They dwelt in a cold spot and a dangerous one, for a +mountain towered above their heads so steep that the stones would often +rumble down its sides and startle them at midnight. + +2. The daughter had just uttered some simple jest that filled them all +with mirth, when the wind came through the Notch and seemed to pause +before their cottage, rattling the door with a sound of wailing and +lamentation before it passed into the valley. For a moment it saddened +them, though there was nothing unusual in the tones. But the family were +glad again when they perceived that the latch was lifted by some +traveler whose footsteps had been unheard amid the dreary blast which +heralded his approach and waited as he was entering and went moaning +away from the door. + +3. Though they dwelt in such a solitude, these people held daily +converse with the world. The romantic pass of the Notch is a great +artery through which the life-blood of internal commerce is continually +throbbing between Maine on the one side and the Green Mountains and the +shores of the St. Lawrence on the other. The stage-coach always drew up +before the door of the cottage. The wayfarer with no companion but his +staff paused here to exchange a word, that the sense of loneliness +might not utterly overcome him ere he could pass through the cleft of +the mountain or reach the first house in the valley. And here the +teamster on his way to Portland market would put up for the night, and, +if a bachelor, might sit an hour beyond the usual bedtime and steal a +kiss from the mountain-maid at parting. It was one of those primitive +taverns where the traveler pays only for food and lodging, but meets +with a homely kindness beyond all price. When the footsteps were heard, +therefore, between the outer door and the inner one, the whole family +rose up, grandmother, children and all, as if about to welcome some one +who belonged to them, and whose fate was linked with theirs. + +4. The door was opened by a young man. His face at first wore the +melancholy expression, almost despondency, of one who travels a wild and +bleak road at nightfall and alone, but soon brightened up when he saw +the kindly warmth of his reception. He felt his heart spring forward to +meet them all, from the old woman who wiped a chair with her apron to +the little child that held out its arms to him. One glance and smile +placed the stranger on a footing of innocent familiarity with the eldest +daughter. + +5. "Ah! this fire is the right thing," cried he, "especially when there +is such a pleasant circle round it. I am quite benumbed, for the Notch +is just like the pipe of a great pair of bellows; it has blown a +terrible blast in my face all the way from Bartlett." + +6. "Then you are going toward Vermont?" said the master of the house as +he helped to take a light knapsack off the young man's shoulders. + +7. "Yes, to Burlington, and far enough beyond," replied he. "I meant to +have been at Ethan Crawford's to-night but a pedestrian lingers along +such a road as this. It is no matter; for when I saw this good fire and +all your cheerful faces, I felt as if you had kindled it on purpose for +me and were waiting my arrival. So I shall sit down among you and make +myself at home." + +8. The frank-hearted stranger had just drawn his chair up to the fire +when something like a heavy footstep was heard without rushing down the +steep side of the mountain as with long and rapid strides, and taking +such a leap in passing the cottage as to strike the opposite precipice. +The family held their breath, because they knew the sound, and their +guest held his by instinct. + +9. "The old mountain has thrown a stone at us for fear we should forget +him," said the landlord, recovering himself. "He sometimes nods his head +and threatens to come down, but we are old neighbors, and agree together +pretty well, upon the whole. Besides, we have a sure place of refuge +hard by if he should be coming in good earnest." + +10. Let us now suppose the stranger to have finished his supper of +bear's meat, and by his natural felicity of manner to have placed +himself on a footing of kindness with the whole family; so that they +talked together as freely as if he belonged to their mountain-brood. He +was of a proud yet gentle spirit, haughty and reserved among the rich +and great, but ever ready to stoop his head to the lowly cottage door +and be like a brother or a son at the poor man's fireside. In the +household of the Notch he found warmth and simplicity of feeling, the +pervading intelligence of New England, and a poetry of native growth +which they had gathered when they very little thought of it from the +mountain-peaks and chasms, and at the very threshold of their romantic +and dangerous abode. He had traveled far and alone; his whole life, +indeed, had been a solitary path, for, with the lofty caution of his +nature, he had kept himself apart from those who might otherwise have +been his companions. The family, too, though so kind and hospitable, had +that consciousness of unity among themselves and separation from the +world at large which in every domestic circle should still keep a holy +place where no stranger may intrude. But this evening a prophetic +sympathy impelled the refined and educated youth to pour out his heart +before the simple mountaineers, and constrained them to answer him with +the same free confidence. And thus it should have been. Is not the +kindred of a common fate a closer tie than that of birth? + +11. The secret of the young man's character was a high and abstracted +ambition. He could have borne to live an undistinguished life, but not +to be forgotten in the grave. Yearning desire had been transformed to +hope, and hope, long cherished, had become like certainty that, +obscurely as he journeyed now, a glory was to beam on all his pathway, +though not, perhaps, while he was treading it. But when posterity should +gaze back into the gloom of what was now the present, they would trace +the brightness of his footsteps, brightening as meaner glories faded, +and confess that a gifted one had passed from his cradle to his tomb +with none to recognize him. + +12. "As yet," cried the stranger, his cheek glowing and his eye flashing +with enthusiasm--"as yet I have done nothing. Were I to vanish from the +earth to-morrow, none would know so much of me as you--that a nameless +youth came up at nightfall from the valley of the Saco, and opened his +heart to you in the evening, and passed through the Notch by sunrise, +and was seen no more. Not a soul would ask, 'Who was he? Whither did the +wanderer go?' But I cannot die till I have achieved my destiny. Then let +Death come: I shall have built my monument." + +13. There was a continual flow of natural emotion gushing forth amid +abstracted reverie which enabled the family to understand this young +man's sentiments, though so foreign from their own. With quick +sensibility of the ludicrous, he blushed at the ardor into which he had +been betrayed. + +14. "You laugh at me," said he, taking the eldest daughter's hand and +laughing at himself. "You think my ambition as nonsensical as if I were +to freeze myself to death on the top of Mount Washington only that +people might spy at me from the country roundabout. And truly that would +be a noble pedestal for a man's statue." + +15. "It is better to sit here by this fire," answered the girl, +blushing, "and be comfortable and contented, though nobody thinks about +us." + +16. "I suppose," said her father, after a fit of musing, "there is +something natural in what the young man says; and if my mind had been +turned that way, I might have felt just the same.--It is strange, wife, +how his talk has set my head running on things that are pretty certain +never to come to pass." + +17. "Perhaps they may," observed the wife. "Is the man thinking what he +will do when he is a widower?" + +18. "No, no!" cried he, repelling the idea with reproachful kindness. +"When I think of your death, Esther, I think of mine too. But I was +wishing we had a good farm in Bartlett or Bethlehem or Littleton, or +some other township round the White Mountains, but not where they could +tumble on our heads. I should want to stand well with my neighbors and +be called squire and sent to General Court for a term or two; for a +plain, honest man may do as much good there as a lawyer. And when I +should be grown quite an old man, and you an old woman, so as not to be +long apart, I might die happy enough in my bed, and leave you all crying +around me. A slate gravestone would suit me as well as a marble one, +with just my name and age, and a verse of a hymn, and something to let +people know that I lived an honest man and died a Christian." + +19. "There, now!" exclaimed the stranger; "it is our nature to desire a +monument, be it slate or marble, or a pillar of granite, or a glorious +memory in the universal heart of man." + +20. "We're in a strange way to-night," said the wife, with tears in her +eyes. "They say it's a sign of something when folk's minds go +a-wandering so. Hark to the children!" + +21. They listened accordingly. The younger children had been put to bed +in another room, but with an open door between; so that they could be +heard talking busily among themselves. One and all seemed to have caught +the infection from the fireside circle, and were outvying each other in +wild wishes and childish projects of what they would do when they came +to be men and women. At length a little boy, instead of addressing his +brothers and sisters, called out to his mother. + +22. "I'll tell you what I wish, mother," cried he: "I want you and +father and grandma'm, and all of us, and the stranger too, to start +right away and go and take a drink out of the basin of the Flume." + +23. Nobody could help laughing at the child's notion of leaving a warm +bed and dragging them from a cheerful fire to visit the basin of the +Flume--a brook which tumbles over the precipice deep within the Notch. + +24. The boy had hardly spoken, when a wagon rattled along the road and +stopped a moment before the door. It appeared to contain two or three +men who were cheering their hearts with the rough chorus of a song which +resounded in broken notes between the cliffs, while the singers +hesitated whether to continue their journey or put up here for the +night. + +25. "Father," said the girl, "they are calling you by name." + +26. But the good man doubted whether they had really called him, and was +unwilling to show himself too solicitous of gain by inviting people to +patronize his house. He therefore did not hurry to the door, and, the +lash being soon applied, the travelers plunged into the Notch, still +singing and laughing, though their music and mirth came back drearily +from the heart of the mountain. + +27. "There, mother!" cried the boy, again; "they'd have given us a ride +to the Flume." + +28. Again they laughed at the child's pertinacious fancy for a +night-ramble. But it happened that a light cloud passed over the +daughter's spirit; she looked gravely into the fire and drew a breath +that was almost a sigh. It forced its way, in spite of a little struggle +to repress it. Then, starting and blushing, she looked quickly around +the circle, as if they had caught a glimpse into her bosom. The stranger +asked what she had been thinking of. + +29. "Nothing," answered she, with a downcast smile; "only I felt +lonesome just then." + +30. "Oh, I have always had a gift of feeling what is in other people's +hearts," said he, half seriously. "Shall I tell the secret of yours? For +I know what to think when a young girl shivers by a warm hearth and +complains of lonesomeness at her mother's side. Shall I put these +feelings into words?" + +31. "They would not be a girl's feelings any longer if they could be put +into words," replied the mountain-nymph, laughing, but avoiding his eye. + +32. All this was said apart. Perhaps a germ of love was springing in +their hearts so pure that it might blossom in Paradise, since it could +not be matured on earth; for women worship such gentle dignity as his, +and the proud, contemplative, yet kindly, soul is oftenest captivated by +simplicity like hers. But while they spoke softly, and he was watching +the happy sadness, the lightsome shadows, the shy yearnings, of a +maiden's nature, the wind through the Notch took a deeper and drearier +sound. It seemed, as the fanciful stranger said, like the choral strain +of the spirits of the blast who in old Indian times had their dwelling +among these mountains and made their heights and recesses a sacred +region. There was a wail along the road as if a funeral were passing. To +chase away the gloom, the family threw pine-branches on their fire till +the dry leaves crackled and the flame arose, discovering once again a +scene of peace and humble happiness. The light hovered about them fondly +and caressed them all. There were the little faces of the children +peeping from their bed apart, and here the father's frame of strength, +the mother's subdued and careful mien, the high-browed youth, the +budding girl, and the good old grandma, still knitting in the warmest +place. + +33. The aged woman looked up from her task, and with fingers ever busy +was the next to speak. + +34. "Old folks have their notions," said she, "as well as young ones. +You've been wishing and planning and letting your heads run on one thing +and another till you've set my mind a-wandering too. Now, what should an +old woman wish for, when she can go but a step or two before she comes +to her grave? Children, it will haunt me night and day till I tell you." + +35. "What is it, mother?" cried the husband and wife at once. + +36. Then the old woman, with an air of mystery which drew the circle +closer round the fire, informed them that she had provided her +grave-clothes some years before--a nice linen shroud, a cap with a +muslin ruff, and everything of a finer sort than she had worn since her +wedding day. But this evening an old superstition had strangely recurred +to her. It used to be said in her younger days that if anything were +amiss with a corpse--if only the ruff were not smooth or the cap did +not set right--the corpse, in the coffin and beneath the clods, would +strive to put up its cold hands and arrange it. The bare thought made +her nervous. + +37. "Don't talk so, grandmother," said the girl, shuddering. + +38. "Now," continued the old woman, with singular earnestness, yet +smiling strangely at her own folly, "I want one of you, my children, +when your mother is dressed and in the coffin,--I want one of you to +hold a looking-glass over my face. Who knows but I may take a glimpse at +myself and see whether all's right?" + +39. "Old and young, we dream of graves and monuments," murmured the +stranger youth. "I wonder how mariners feel when the ship is sinking and +they, unknown and undistinguished, are to be buried together in the +ocean, that wide and nameless sepulcher?" + +40. For a moment the old woman's ghastly conception so engrossed the +minds of her hearers that a sound abroad in the night, rising like the +roar of a blast, had grown broad, deep and terrible before the fated +group were conscious of it. The house and all within it trembled; the +foundations of the earth seemed to be shaken, as if this awful sound +were the peal of the last trump. Young and old exchanged one wild glance +and remained an instant pale, affrighted, without utterance or power to +move. Then the same shriek burst simultaneously from all their lips: + +41. "The slide! The slide!" + +42. The simplest words must intimate, but not portray, the unutterable +horror of the catastrophe. The victims rushed from their cottage and +sought refuge in what they deemed a safer spot, where, in contemplation +of such an emergency, a sort of barrier had been reared. Alas! they had +quitted their security and fled right into the pathway of destruction. +Down came the whole side of the mountain in a cataract of ruin. Just +before it reached the house the stream broke into two branches, shivered +not a window there, but overwhelmed the whole vicinity, blocked up the +road and annihilated everything in its dreadful course. Long ere the +thunder of that great slide had ceased to roar among the mountains the +mortal agony had been endured and the victims were at peace. Their +bodies were never found. + +43. The next morning the light smoke was seen stealing from the cottage +chimney up the mountainside. Within, the fire was yet smouldering on +the hearth, and the chairs in a circle round it, as if the inhabitants +had but gone forth to view the devastation of the slide and would +shortly return to thank Heaven for their miraculous escape. All had left +separate tokens by which those who had known the family were made to +shed a tear for each. Who has not heard their name? The story has been +told far and wide, and will forever be a legend of these mountains. +Poets have sung their fate. + +44. There were circumstances which led some to suppose that a stranger +had been received into the cottage on this awful night, and had shared +the catastrophe of all its inmates; others denied that there were +sufficient grounds for such a conjecture. Woe for the high-souled youth +with his dream of earthly immortality! His name and person utterly +unknown, his history, his way of life, his plans, a mystery never to be +solved, his death and his existence equally a doubt,--whose was the +agony of that death moment? + +THE END + + + + +INDEX + + + Action: implied by plot, 45; + of characters, 102; + advanced by speech, 107; + advanced by preliminary climax, 177. + + Adjectives, 197. + + Adverbs, 198. + + _Allegory_, 29. + + "Ambitious Guest, The:" as paradigm, 46; + observes unities, 48, 150-152, 154; + "elemental" or "true" plot of, 58; + "theme" of, 58; + "skeleton" or "working plot" of, 59-61; + facts in, 90-93; + characters in, 97; + compression of dialogue in, 115; + beginning of, 134, 146; + scene of, 144; + suspense in, 162; + preparation for climax in, 167-169; + climax of, 172, 183; + conclusion of, 183; + text of, 234-249. + + Author, intrusion of, 120-122. + + + Balance, 160. + + Beginning: crucial test, 132, 146 148; + length of, 132; + introduces foundation facts, 132-138; + dilatory, 138-140; + prefatory, 141; + locates scene, 143, 145; + best method of, 146. + + Best twelve American short stories, 24. + + "Bookish" conversation, 109. + + _Burlesque_, 39. + + + Chapters, 149. + + Characters: names of as titles, 72, 76; + necessity of, 94; + based on fact, 94; + composites, 95; + descriptions of, 96, 98-102; + characteristics of, 97, 102; + appearance of, 97; + active, 102; + few, 103; + interest in 104; + names of, 105; + speech of, 106-116; + models, 118. + + _Character Sketch_, 32. + + _Character Study_: defined, 32; + _Dialect Story_ related to, 33; + plot of, 48. + + Classification of Short Stories: use of, 26; + _Tale_, 27; + _ True Story_, 27; + _Imaginative Tale_, 27; + _Moral Story_, 28; + _Fable_, 28; + _Story with a Moral_, 29; + _Allegory_, 29; + _Weird Story_, 30; + _Ghost Story_, 30; + _Fantastic Tale_, 31; + _Study in Horror_, 31; + _Character Study_, 32; + _Character Sketch_, 32; + _Dialect Story_, 33; + _Parable of the Times_, 35; + _Instructive Story_, 35; + _Story of To-day_, 36; + _Story of Ingenuity_, 36; + _Story of Wonder_, 37; + _Detective Story_, 37; + _Humorous Story_, 38; + _Nonsense Story_, 38; + _Burlesque_, 39; + _Dramatic Story_, 39-41. + + Climax: how estimated, 161; + preparation for, 161-170, 177-179; + logical and inevitable, 165; + anticipated, 166, 169; + too obvious, 166; + in "Ambitious Guest," 167-169; + in stories of premonition, 169; + as a test, 171; + defined, 171; + length of, 172; + proper, 172; + position of, 173; + ends suspense, 174; + not tragic, 175-177; + preliminary, 177-179; + "false" or "technical," 179-182; + coincident with conclusion, 183. + + Collections of short stories, 41-44. + + Commonplaces: in title, 71; + not literary, 86; + in dialogue, 110, 112-114; + in style, 191-195. + + Conclusion: defined, 171; + length of, 182; + coincident with climax, 183; + padded, 184; + conventional, 185-188. + + Conversation: see Dialogue. + + Crane, Stephen, style of, 200. + + Criticism, 222, 231. + + Curiosity, 161. + + + Denouement: see Climax and Conclusion. + + Description of characters, 96, 98-102; + of scene 143, 145. + + _Detective Story_: defined, 37; + plot of, 48. + + Dialect, 117. + + _Dialect Story_: defined, 33; + as literature, 116. + + Dialogue: advances action, 106; + modern use of, 107; + natural and interesting, 108; + "bookish," 109; + commonplace, 110, 112-114; + attempted humor in, 111; + unimportant, 115; + in _Dialect Story_, 116-118; + introduces foundation facts, 134. + + Diary, narration by, 125. + + Dickens, Charles: search for types, 78; + intensified characters, 96; + names of characters, 105. + + Didacticism: inartistic, 157; + veiled, 158. + + Double titles: sensational, 72-74; + too long, 75. + + Drama: tendency toward, 107; + influence of, 175. + + _Dramatic Story_: defined, 39; + _in Form_, 40; + _in Effect_, 40. + + + Editor: method of approaching, 223, 228; + needs of, 224, 225-227; + letter to, 229, 230; + opinion of, 231; + rejection by, 232, 233. + + Elaboration of facts, 89. + + Elemental Plot: defined, 58; + in "Ambitious Guest," 59. + + Element of Surprise: defined, 162; + genuine, 165. + + Element of Suspense: defined, 161; + relief of, 162-164, 177-179; + ended by climax, 174. + + End: see Conclusion. + + Epistolary form, 125. + + Epoch of the Short Story, 12. + + + _Fable_, 28. + + Facts: source of plots, 50; + in fiction, 78; + acquisition of, 78, 84; + familiar, 80; + unfamiliar, 80, 81; + about society, 81; + historical, 82; + utility of, 84; + use of, 86, 87; + not strange, 86; + plausibility of, 89; + suppression and elaboration of, 89; + in "Ambitious Guest," 90-93; + characters based on, 94; + introduced in beginning, 132-138. + + False Climax, 179-182, 183. + + _Fantastic Tale_, 31. + + Fantasy, 19. + + Fashions in short stories, 226. + + Fiction: founded on fact, 78; + verisimilitude in, 87; + life in, 88; + derivation of characters in, 94; + names in, 105; + surprise in, 170. + + Figures of speech, 195. + + "Fine writing," 193. + + First person narrative, 122-125. + + Foreign words and phrases, 196. + + + Genius: value of, 209; + dependence on, 214. + + _Ghost Story_, 30. + + Grammar: disregard of, 204; + faults of, 219. + + Greek unities: observance of, 47; + in "Ambitious Guest," 48. + + + Happy ending, 185. + + Hawthorne, Nathaniel: influence on short story, 11; + his didactic stories, 28-30. + + Hero: description of, 96, 97, 98-102; + importance of, 103; + as narrator, 122-125; + an animal or a thing, 126-128. + + Humor, 20; + attempted, 111. + + _Humorous Story_, 38. + + + Imagination, 51. + + _Imaginative Tale_, 27. + + Individuality: influences style, 189; + cultivation of, 205. + + Inspiration: value of, 212-214; + dependence on, 214; + creation of, 214-216. + + _Instructive Story_, 35. + + Irving, Washington: influence on short story, 11; + used narration within narration, 131; + used dilatory beginning, 138. + + Italics, 191, 201. + + + Kipling, Rudyard: made hero an animal, 127; + used prefatory beginning, 142. + + + Length: of short story, 17; + of title, 75; + of beginning, 132, 146; + of climax, 172; + of conclusion, 182. + + + Letters: narration by, 125; + accompanying MSS., 229; + of recommendation, 230. + + Local Color, 156. + + Love Element, 18. + + + Mailing MSS., 228. + + Material, acquisition of, 84, 210-212. + + Methods of Narration, 119-131. + + _Moral Story_, 28. + + MSS.: preparation of, 216, 218, 228; + submitting, 222-227, 229-233; + letter with, 229; + record of, 232. + + Manuscript record, 232. + + + Names: of characters, 105; + in fiction, 105; + of places, 145. + + Narration: methods of, 119, 131; + natural, 120; + impersonal, 120-122; + unity in, 122; + in first person, 122-125; + by letter or diary, 125; + by an animal or a thing, 126-128; + by multiplicity of narrators, 128; + within narration, 129-131. + + Nature, influence of, 143. + + Newspapers, material from, 84. + + _Nonsense Story_, 38. + + Novel: short story a school for, 12; + compared with short story, 23; + influence of, 150, 155, 175. + + + "Or" in title: sensational, 72-74; + too long, 75. + + + Padding, 156; + in conclusion, 184; + defined, 202. + + _Parable of the Times_, 35. + + Parts, 149. + + Phrases: stereotyped, 192; + foreign, 196. + + Plausibility: in use of facts, 89; + in "Ambitious Guest," 92. + + Plot: necessity of, 17; + defined, 45; + implies action, 45; + simple and complete, 47; + observes Greek unities, 47; + importance of, 48; + in _Character Study_, 48; + in _Detective Story_, 48; + plot-germ, 49; + test of, 50; + derivation of, 51; + freshness of, 52, 57; + phases of 52-56; + hackneyed, 57; + "elemental" or "true," 58; + "theme," 58; + in "Ambitious Guest," 58-61; + "skeleton" or "working," 59-61; + relation to title, 66, 67, 68; + effects surprise, 165; + effects climax, 166, 179. + + Poe, Edgar Allan: first recognized short story, 11; + influence on short story, 11; + originated _Story of Ingenuity_, 36. + + Poetry, quoted, 194. + + Preliminary Climax, 177-179. + + Premonition, stories of, 169. + + Price of short stories, 227, 229. + + Punctuation, 200, 220. + + + Quotations, 194. + + + Realism, 21. + + Religion: not literature, 159; + influence of, 160. + + Revision, 216-221. + + Rhetoric: disregard of, 204; + faults of, 219. + + Romanticism, 21. + + + Scene: location of, 143, 145; + importance of, 144; + presentation of, 144. + + Sensationalism: in title, 72-74; + in style, 190, 192. + + Sentences, 199. + + Short Story: first recognized, 11; + history of, 11; + masters of, 11, 12; + an American product, 12; + epoch of, 12; + school for novelist, 12; + defined, 15-17; + plot of, 17, 47-63; + length of, 17; + love element in, 18; + ingenuity and originality in, 19; + "touch of fantasy" in, 19; + tends to comedy, 20, 46; + realism and romanticism in, 21; + technique of, 22; + artificiality of, 22; + compared with novel, 23; + best twelve American, 24; + classification of, 26-44; + collections of, 41-44; + unity in, 47, 149-155; + title of, 64-77; + facts in, 78-93; + characters in, 94-118; + methods of telling, 119-131; + beginning of, 132-148; + body of, 149-170; + parts and chapters in, 149; + influenced by novel, 150, 155, 175; + padding in, 156; + local color in, 156; + didacticism in, 157-160; + proportions of, 160; + climax of, 161-182; + suspense in, 161-164; + surprise in, 162, 165; + conclusion of, 182-188; + style of, 189-208; + labor in writing, 209-221; + marketing of, 222-233; + criticism on, 222, 231; + timeliness of, 225-227. + + Skeleton Plot: defined, 59; + in "Ambitious Guest," 59-61; + use of, 62. + + Slang, 197. + + Spelling, errors in, 220. + + Stereotyped phrases, 192. + + _Story of Ingenuity_: compared with _Imaginative Tale_, 27; + defined, 36; + _Humorous Story_ related to, 38. + + _Story of To-day_, 36. + + _Story of Wonder_, 37. + + _Story with a Moral_, 29. + + _Study in Horror_, 31. + + Style: importance of, 189; + a matter of individuality, 189; + appropriate, 189; + qualities of, 190; + commonplace, 191; + stereotyped phrasing, 192; + "fine writing," 193; + quotations, 194; + figures of speech, 195; + foreign words and phrases, 196; + good English, 197; + slang, 197; + flowing, 198; + ease of expression, 199; + compression indispensable, 201; + padding, 202; + not exhaustive, 203; + acquisition of, 204-208. + + Suppression: of unimportant facts, 89; + of unimportant dialogue, 115; + of irrelevant matter, 155. + + Surprise: see Element of. + + Suspense: see Element of. + + + _Tale_, 27. + + Technical Climax, 179-182, 183. + + Test of good story: title, 64; + beginning, 132, 146-148; + conclusion, 171. + + Theme: defined, 58; + in "Ambitious Guest," 58. + + Timeliness: seasonal, 225; + fashionable, 226. + + Title: test of story, 64; + influences sale, 64-66; + "text," 66, 76; + relation to plot, 66; + apt, 67; + specific, 68-70; + attractive, 71; + name of character as, 72, 76; + sensational, 72-74; + new, 75; + short, 75; + from principal object, 77. + + Tone Color, 199. + + "Touch of Fantasy," 19. + + True Plot: defined, 58; + in "Ambitious Guest," 59. + + _True Story_, 27. + + Typewritten MSS., 228. + + + Unity, 149-155. + + + _Weird Story_, 30. + + Wilkins, Mary E.: her moral stories, 160. + + Words: foreign, 196; + misuse of, 197; + choice of, 199. + + Working Plot: defined, 59; + in "Ambitious Guest," 59-61; + use of, 62. + ++---------------------------------------------------+ +| TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES | +| | +| Page 30 Sceptre changed to Spectre | +| Rappocini's changed to Rappaccini's | +| Page 40 practise changed to practice | +| Page 42 Girard changed to Gerard | +| Page 48 centres changed to centers | +| Page 54 accident, changed to accident. | +| 77 Rickshaw changed to 'Rickshaw | +| 96 egregriously changed to egregiously | +| 103 supernumeries changed to supernumeraries | +| Page 178 Higinbotham changed to Higginbotham | +| | +| The use of hyphens, and "practised" on | +| Page 89 and "unpractised" on Page 129 have | +| been retained as in the original despite some | +| inconsistencies. | ++---------------------------------------------------+ + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Short Story Writing, by Charles Raymond Barrett + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHORT STORY WRITING *** + +***** This file should be named 20526.txt or 20526.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/5/2/20526/ + +Produced by Peter Vachuska, Chuck Greif, Jacqueline Jeremy +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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