Six-Word Stories

Whatever I said or thought when I came up with the theme, and whatever restrictions I’ve placed on things either here or in my head, at some point during the May Micro theme, I’m going to try to write a six-word story. Note the word try in there.

If you’re not aware, the idea of a six-word story is a simple one: tell a complete story in only six words. The original is apocryphal but makes for a good, if slightly longer story on its own. A friend challenged Hemmingway to write a story in just six words, perhaps after hearing the writer boast that he could. He came up with the heartbreaking:

“For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

There is a whole story there, but most of it is implied, existing only in the mind of the reader. It has a beginning and a middle and an end, but we just get to read the end. We experience the beginning and middle emotionally, though.

The shorter a story is, the more stripped bare the words are, the more each word has to count, and more of the story is implied. Most supposedly six-word stories simply aren’t. They’re statements, and often incomplete ones. Not incomplete meaning other things are implied to fill in blanks or flesh out a mental experience, but as in words have been left out so that there are only six.

Six-word stories are hard. And some folks will argue that they aren’t even stories because you need a character and an arc. I haven’t used that exact reasoning, but I’ve already discounted most six-word stories as simple statements. You don’t have to accept my word on things, though. How we each define the word story will have a huge influence on how we interpret what we read or hear as one. And that’s okay. In fact, that’s human.

Personally, I like the beginning, middle, end approach. Yes, I’ll generally say that character and plot are equally important, but I’ll go back to something I wrote a couple of paragraphs back: the shorter a story is, the more stripped bare the words are. Every word does more work and so word choices become not just important but critical.

I’ve never yet managed a six-word story that I can actually call a story. The closest I’ve gotten has been nine.

“Debris and dreams scatter beneath a drifting exhaust plume.”

Be well, everyone.