Tomorrow at 10am the contest #SaturdayShorts by Between the Lines closes. The contest states that a story be written involving Cats, Frogs and Vampire Bats. Easy. Written from the persepective of a child. Easy. Be less than 500 words. Easy. WRONG.
The contest was declared on Wednesday and that night I quickly thought up the story and how it would go. Basically the son of a God wanting a friend on earth. Simple story. Here is the question. How many words is a thought?
The contest was declared on Wednesday and that night I quickly thought up the story and how it would go. Basically the son of a God wanting a friend on earth. Simple story. Here is the question. How many words is a thought?
(∞ x π)³ⁿ + 42
√(181-2(9x10)+1)
Approximately.
I am not obsessed with word counts. I have never written anything worrying about how long it is going to be. I use word counts merely as a sense of accomplishment when I have spend a period of time writing. I let the story carry on as long as it needs too. Characters are introduced, plots are laid out and shit happens.
The Quick Brown Fox Jumps Over the Lazy Dog.
Eight words that tell a story, wouldn't be right if there were any more or any less.
I believe that every story has a word count already attached to it. The problem is that until the last word is written, edited revised re-edited and published (or placed in a drawer or burnt in the fire place or put in a drawer) a writer does not know what that word count will be.
So here I am sitting with a rather lovely little story of 1200 words wondering WTF can I cut out? Nothing but if I leave it at 1200 words it really has no life what-so-ever because I can't enter it in the competition. Do I just shelf it? It's too late to start again so perhaps I just say I tried, leave it for something else and try #SaturdayShorts next week.
BTW, if anyone wants to read it I will happily send it to you.
Thanks for Reading
D. Ryan Leask
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