Author: ctrlalttabby@comcast.net

Well, last week I promised examples of the short story cliffhanger writing style, and here they are. These are my two best (of like four). First, the very first of these I wrote for that prompt, “Stone”:

“Mom!” I complained as she turned Leroy to a useless pile of rocks. “He was gonna keep our secret! I made him promise!”

“Honestly Dear, how many times have I told you not to bring people here?”

“A….” I stopped.

“Well? I’m waiting!”

“A….” I started again, then shook my head and walked away. Behind me I heard her take a sledgehammer to Leroy’s statue. That’s my mother. Always paranoid. That’s because people are afraid of her ability to turn them to stone. Have you guessed who she is? That’s right, my mother is none other than Medusa. I know what you’re thinking: If she’s your mom, than who’s your dad? His name is Perseus.

The second one was on the prompt “Breathing,” which I followed much more loosely. (“Stone” was just too easy to work with, “Breathing” is a harder one to interest a tween, as I was when I wrote these.)

I ran fast to where Kirby lay. My heart was pounding in my ears, desperate to find comfort. Please, I thought, let him not be dead. I quickly put my ear to his chest. Yes, I thought, relieved. He’s still breathing. I sat next to him for a moment, then realized he was still dying and picked him up. I grunted, then started walking, wobbly under his weight. I’m not sure what enabled me to carry my brother that day, but it saved his life. I got him to my parents and they called an ambulance. I’m the only one that knows what almost killed him, and I’ll never tell.

Ironically, this post on prompted stories was prompted by a discussion with a friend of mine. See, I like to write long tales, with each character’s story drawn out in my head to get the depths of the motivations and the personality. It helps me allow my characters to jump out at me, noting that most of these never get written, so it’s really a matter of thoughts. By having those characters, certain events and emotions trigger a familiarity reaction that draws me back to them, and so their story continues or is rewritten as I need it to be to express the given moment. From this writing perspective, it means that I like reading or watching series where the characters have time to develop and really connect to the audience.

My friend had the flip perspective: short stories. As she explained, there was something undeniably ingenious about the way they left you hanging at the end, wondering how they got there and what happened next. Like the cliffhanger of a chapter or the hook before the title credits roll, except that in these stories, you don’t get an answer. It’s open for your interpretation and speculation. My initial reaction was to consider the writing style I spoke of above: the drawn out works of everything, so that no question remains unanswered. Of course I didn’t write these shorter stories!

But then I looked back at some of my old Google Docs. The one that caught my eye was titled “Story Prompts.” And this was when I remembered; I did use that writing style. I had started with some writing contest (long lost in the depths of my computer) that I wasn’t allowed to enter in because I was too young. It had a ridiculously small word limit and a one word prompt. I used their prompt, “Stone,” and, hungry for more, pulled up a word generator. The result were prompted mini stories, that, on my rereading, seem more like story prompts themselves, or maybe teasers for something longer.

Two of my own examples next week!

My grandmother was going through some poetry books a while back and found two poems that I thought were hilarious. I hope you like them too!

Ladies and Germs,

I come before you to stand behind you

To tell you something I know nothing about.

Admission free; pay at the door;

Pull up a chair; sit on the floor.

Refreshments will be served in empty glasses.

This meeting will come to disorder.

We will discuss something we know nothing about

At the four corners of the round table.

And the second one:

One dark day in the middle of the night,

Two dead boys got up to fight.

Back to back, they faced each other,

Drew their swords and shot each other.

A deaf policeman heard the noise,

Stood up and shot those two dead boys.

If you doubt this story’s true,

Ask the blind man. He saw it, too.

What do you think? Got anymore wacky poems? I’d love to hear them!

And now, for the grand finale! (Click here for Part 1 and Part 2. Yes, it’s definitely best to read them in order for context.)

 

Jeremy nodded slowly, finally understanding. “I thought I was crazy, thinking being Dead was a gift, but when I think about it, it makes sense. Like video games? You’ve got all eternity to play them! Ever had a question you couldn’t find the answer to? It’s here! Well, somewhere. You get the point.” He was ecstatic. “I just had a great idea! I could help you welcome them! We could give them the grand tour!”

Death grinned, amused. He let himself laugh at the thought, then told Jeremy, “You act as if this were some beach resort in Florida. Or Hawaii.”

“Don’t you get it?” Jeremy asked, still bouncing up and down as if Death hadn’t said anything. “We could make it one!”

Death sighed. He hated to burst Jeremy’s bubble, but it was so unreal. Somebody had to. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Jeremy, but this is the Underworld. I don’t think it’s just going to magically zap into a tropical beach resort.”

Jeremy’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” But even though he seemed to, Jeremy hadn’t given up hope. He studied for days and nights, reading every piece of written material in the Underworld.

“Woah! You’ve got all eternity to read! There’s no rush!” Death exclaimed, walking into Jeremy’s office where he was greeted by a turned back and typing fingers. He looked around and noticed piles of books scattered everywhere, each labeled with a little tag.

“Oh! You’re just in time! I’ve just finished those books.” He pointed to a short stack of books about Florida. “Could you return them to the Underworld library?” Death grabbed the stack and carried them to the library, where Miss Arkik gratefully checked them back in. Miss Arkik had been a librarian as one of the Living and was happy to do the same job as one of the Dead.

“Got it!” Jeremy yelled as Death walked back into his office.

“Got what?” Death asked, confused.

“The solution for how to make this place a tropical resort! Do you want Florida or Hawaii?”

Death sighed. “Hawaii, I guess.” If anyone could figure out a way to make the Underworld a beach resort, it was Jeremy.

Jeremy started rattling on about what they would need. “You get the sand and the salt.” He said. “I’ll get the building materials and the furniture.”

They left, returning a couple hours later. They poured several tons of sand out across the Underworld and then filled the rest with water. Then they added salt into the water and fish native to Hawaii.

Next, they started building hotels and houses around the sandy areas. After they paved some roads, they equipped the Underworld’s upper walls and ceilings with sprinklers and leaf blowers to serve as precipitation and wind.

Jeremy stood at the edge of the Underworld Executive Balcony looking out proudly at his work of art. “You did it.” Death said beside him, smiling in awe at the scene before them, including the water lapping the beach’s edge.

“No.” Jeremy corrected him. “We did it.”

 

And, there you go! The third and final part of my story. What do you think? Which part was your favorite? Did you like the story?

For Part 1, click here.

 

“Good evening, Death,” Jeremy greeted him cheerfully. Jeremy was a young man who had been a wonderful scholar until one evening, as he was walking to his dorms, he had a heart attack and died. He had grown fond of Death and often made for Death’s only real companion. Then he noticed the look on Death’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his jolly grin turning to a look of concern.

“Meh.” Death shrugged. “This job has sort of… gotten old. It bores me.”

“No!” Jeremy replied, making a long face. “You’re Death. You’re immortal. What would we do without you? The people need you.”

“Guess the Sun was right. I just have to make the most of it.” Death sighed.

“Well, you could always change it up a little.” Death looked curiously at Jeremy. “You know, make it fun. Add some dancing, a couple jokes, you get the idea.”

Death thought about it and, for the first time in his highly extensive life, actually did some research on people and their hobbies. He found out about music, and card tricks, and everything else that seems like everyday entertainment to you. And then it hit him. The idea that would develop his monotonous career into a fun, capricious… game! He started running out the Gates of the Underworld.

“Where are you going?” Jeremy asked, looking up from his books. Part of his liking for being one of the Dead was that he had all of eternity to read his books, reread his books, and read books he had never previously had access to.

“Changing it up. Want to come?” Death asked, halfway out the door. Jeremy very quickly closed his books, slid them into a drawer in a desk that he had made, and stepped out with Death. Now, stepping outside into a North Dakota winter without a jacket may seem foolish to you, but I assure you, it had no effect on either man whatsoever. For, you see, not being able to feel cold and heat was yet another benefit of being Dead.

They made a sharp turn and started down a busy road. “So, what’s the plan?” Jeremy asked.

“We’re going to change it up,” Death replied. Then he turned down a street into a park and started singing and dancing around, randomly tapping people. He eventually returned to Jeremy, triumphant, and said, “Ten more people. That should be all for this week in North Dakota.” With that he turned and led Jeremy back to the Gates of the Underworld.

When they got back, Jeremy asked, “How will all those people die?”

Death turned and responded, “Assorted reasons. The young man will Die in a car accident, that family of four’s house will burn down, taking them with it, and the rest will die of stuff like old age and diseases.”

For once, Jeremy seemed lost for words. “But… but isn’t that sort of mean? Killing some off so young?”

“No, my dear boy! I only let those who are Ready – pure of heart and soul – Die and join us in the Underworld. It is a gift! Eternal life! No pain! No rules! It is access to all the knowledge they ever wanted!” He waved his arms emphatically.

 

What about there? Was that the ending that satisfies you most? Death explaining the good that has come from his role? If not, I have one more possible ending for you, the one that I originally used for the contest, coming next week!