Micro-Fiction: It’s All About the Title

What is your title?–Pericles

I never knew that when I wrote “Writing Flash Fiction” for Fiction Factor that it would become something of a standard text on the Internet. Dozens of websites have linked to this piece that outlines the basics of writing flash (stories of less than 1000 wrds.) or micro-fiction (stories of 100 wrds. or less). Since then I had been involved with publishing flash on a regular basis through FLASHSHOT, a daily dose of genre micro-fiction. Thousands of readers, thousands of stories and hundreds of authors from October 10, 2002 to August 12, 2012. It’s safe to say I’ve read a few micro-fiction pieces in my time. So this article is going to build on “Writing Flash Fiction”. I am going to assume you’ve tried writing a flash piece at least once or that you soon will. Here are some more thoughts on writing very, short stories. All these ideas hinge on the use of titles. I’ve asked my good friend, Mr. Bill Shakespeare, to add his two cents occasionally.

And I must find that title in your tongue, Before I make reply to aught you say.-Richard II

Start with a word. This is the old Ray Bradbury trick. Make a list using “The” as the first of two words. “The Dragon”, “The Sinkhole’, “The Banana”, etc. It really doesn’t matter what you write. You can leave off the “The” if you like. “Cheese”, “Videotape”, “Sponge”, etc. Once you’ve picked one that seems promising, you think about it, trying to see it in an unusual way. Let’s use “The Sieve” for an example. Is it referring to an actual sieve, used for some sinister purpose, or a figurative one, used to sift certain kinds of people from the crowd? Adding a single adjective can add another dimension. “The Psychic Sieve”, “The Black Sieve” or “The Cosmic Sieve” gives you three potentially different story ideas. Be careful not to give away too much by adding unnecessary words. A bland title allows the reader to wonder what is so special about “The Sieve”. Of course, you must make sure your story does not disappoint that expectation.

HIEROGLYPH

It had taken Crelborn a decade to complete the entire figure. Found in a Meso-American cave, the fragmentary glyph was also known to exist inside one Egyptian pyramid and another in a Chinese temple.

Crelborn had his theory. He believed that beings from outer space had come to the Earth millions of years ago. They laughed at him in Munich. Giant space creatures!

But the time had arrived. He had cracked the code at last. The odd octopoid shape was his to read. He braced himself for a mind-tearing revelation. He uncovered the glyph slowly and read: EXIT.

This story uses its title in two ways. First off, the word “Hieroglyph” is unusual. It catches your eye. Second, the word is rich in importance. You don’t find hieroglyphs at bus stops or on candy wrappers. They are found in ancient tombs. This builds the reader’s expectation that the hieroglyph will be important. This allows the story to deflate that expectation in the service of humor. Adding words to the title “The Ancient Hieroglyph” or “The Hieroglyph Mystery” does nothing to improve the title.

The times and titles now are alter’d strangely-Henry VIII

Put two words together in your title that don’t belong. There is a synergy when words are combined. Some belong together and others don’t. You can use this to your advantage. “Chicken Sandwich” seems a normal phrase where as “Cockroach Sandwich” has an entirely different effect. Words carry meaning even when they don’t make any immediate sense. “Animate America” doesn’t have any immediately identifiable meaning but it doesn’t seem too threatening, while “Vomit Volcano” does. The reader doesn’t have to know what the title means until the end of the story.

SPINISTER

Old Miss Ariadne Cobb lived in a one bedroom in our apartment building. She had no husband but was known to have the occasional gentleman caller. The fact they never came back seemed to mean something. My mother refused to talk to her. “We don’t associate with those kind of people.”

When Miss Cobb died there was a big fuss. The police came and took pictures. They also took away several bodies, though only one man was needed to carry one. I was too young to know what they meant when the policeman said, “She tied’em up and sucked’em dry.”

This story of mine came out of the similarity between the words “sinister” and “spinster”. I combined them to make “Spinister”, which has the threat of “sinister” but also adds the “spinning” of a spider to the feel. Once the title was created the story wrote itself. Only once the reader has finished the story do the full implications of the title become realized.

Your grace mistakes; only to be brief, Left I his title out.-Richard II

Leave part of the title out. Allow the reader to figure out what you left out and why. A title like “The Son of …” will make the reader wonder, whose son? and why is he important? “The Green, Green Sea Never…” What? What can it never do? You can leave out the noun as in the first example, or the verb, as in the second. The first makes you ask who? While the second what?

RABIT

Literacy saves lives…

John Matley wanted to give his daughter the best Easter ever. All he needed was a rabbit. That was why he had driven all the way to the Bucksford Animal Rescue Farm. They had dogs, cats, horses, even a bear in their many cages.

Bill, the owner and operator, had pointed to a row of cages. “Go ahead. Just look for the one marked RABBIT.”

John wrinkled his brow. He’d never learned to read but for his daughter anything…

Nobody knew what really happened. Why would a man give a rabid animal to a child?

With opening titles miscreate, whose right, Suits not in native colours with the truth…–Henry V

Place secret meaning in your title. This could be a play on words, an analogy or simply irony. A play on words might be looking at an expression differently. A title like “The Man of the Hour” would make you think the story is about someone briefly in the spotlight. Instead write a story about a time traveler who is caught in one hour permanently.

CELESTIAL MECHANICS

It began with the shifting of the Earth’s axis. The resulting disasters to flora and fauna were countless.

The next strange event was a message sent to earth in the form of a beam of energy. No one on Earth knew how to translate the missive. Every few hours it changed to another unknown code.

After twenty-nine days, a single Tibetan monk claimed he could understand the message. The language was similar to an ancient form of communication unknown to the outside world.

The message ran: “All fixed. Expect my bill in thirty days.”

“Celestial mechanics” is a fun term. It is a scientific term meaning that branch of astrophysics that studies the movements of planets and other objects in space. To the regular person it conjures up images of greasy men bent over the hood of a star. Practice thinking about expressions that are all around us and play with them.

That he may never more false title plead… — Timon of Athens

An analogy is when you use one object to represent another. “And when I say ‘Castle’ I really mean ‘my house’.” Objects in magic often carry special powers, such as a voodoo doll, a cursed treasure from a tomb or even a lucky rabbit’s foot. Writer’s use this kind of magic in their stories too. The scarlet letter is a symbol of Hester Prynn’s guilt, just as the ring in The Lord of the Rings is a physical representation of Frodo’s burden. In this story of mine, a child’s toy stands in for a supernova.

KALEIDOSCOPE

Tandy worked all night welding the extra solar sails into place. She checked the solar meter one last time. Just enough time to get into place.

She jockeyed herself into the seat of her solar sailboat, then glided a distance from the space station. She didn’t want any debris to collide with her when it came.

The sky began to brighten impossibly. The intense shower of energy picked up the sail boat and threw it into the cosmos. Tandy let out one last heart-felt squeal of pleasure, while a kaleidoscope devoured the solar system.

A proper title of a peace; and purchased, At a superfluous rate!-Henry VIII

Irony is a literary devise dating back to the ancient Greeks. With irony, characters in a play said one thing while the writer meant another. This allowed the playwright to poke fun at the character, the situation or even the audience. Irony is very useful in micro-fiction. Titles are the perfect place to begin the process. The title blazes out one idea while the story underhandedly does the other.

BURIED IN LOVE

Chief Doran sighed as the warriors shovelled the last of the dirt in place over the couple. Fiercely in love, Braga and Venn had left this world together.

The last of the mourners turned away but the Chief stayed a moment longer to wonder, if anyone ever finds these bones, what will they think? Two lovers buried together because they could not be pull apart.

Their hands clenched around each other throats.

A borrow’d title hast thou bought too dear…–Henry IV

Use quotations to spur your thinking. Filching lines from Shakespeare or the Bible are very popular since their majestic verse adds a dignity to your title. “Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'” from Shelley’s “Ozymandias” could be used for a story about the true significance of human endeavour, as the poet did, or twist it for irony’s sake. As in this story that uses Bulwer-Lytton’s “It was a dark and stormy night…” from Paul Clifford (1830).

DARK & STORMY

It was a dark and stormy night, the man wrote. Actually it was a sunny afternoon in a quiet suburb of L. A. But he was a horror writer and the night had to be dark and stormy. He sighed with resignation.

Meanwhile, outside his window a young girl got into a car. Her body would be found tomorrow, missing its head. In a yard near by an old man strangled his neighbor’s cat. Farther down, a young man sold cocaine laced with strychnine.

The writer looked out his window, and frowned. “The world is just too damn cheerful.”

The problem with this kind of title is that the effectiveness is limited to the reader’s knowledge of your sources. Make sure your story works on some level even without the title. Quotes from popular culture will work while those sayings that are current but will date quickly. Who will remember “Where’s the beef?” a decade from now? (Some of you may have already forgotten it, even though it is only 35 years old.) Older readers will recall the Wendy’s ads that spawned the expression but younger ones won’t. The reverse is also true if you base the story on texting abbreviations for cell phones. The punch line will be limited to those familiar with such usage exclusively.

Although in glorious titles he excel.-Henry VI

Use a trick in your title. Writers are crafters. We have many tools at our disposal: characterization, description, plotting, with centuries of examples to look at for help. Unfortunately many of these tools don’t work in a story 100 words long. You have to be tricky. This shouldn’t be confused with dishonest. You still have to tell a short tale, evoke a response for your flash piece to be worthy of reading it for the sixty seconds it takes.

ROOM 7734

Digby sat waiting. He hated waiting. He hated this stupid empty room with the numbers 7734 on it. Despite the comfortable chairs, he got up repeatedly then sat down again.

How long had he been waiting?

Digby took a coin from his pocket and started flipping in absently. It didn’t help. He still felt fidgety.

He had always hated waiting. The time his brother had been in the hospital when Digby was only six. His brother had never come back. Later it was his father, then mother. Most recently it had been Elaine, his wife. He hated those little rooms in which you waited.

Digby threw the coin up for the hundredth time but missed the catch. It rolled under the chair. As he rose from picking up the quarter he saw the numbers on the door upside down.

He realized he’d be waiting an awful long time.

The man trapped in hell is certainly not a new idea. The title of the story, like the trick, is the point, to figure out what is going on. Tricks are limited only to your imagination. Play with them, use them as your tools.

THE DYING MAN WHO CROSSED A HOSTILE PLANET WITHOUT FOOD OR WATER, WITH ONLY HIS BARE HANDS AND A RUSTY PENKNIFE, WHO FOUGHT SAVAGE BEASTS LIKE THE BAR-FANGED BAT OF UPPER TRIOVIA, DEFIED CORRUPT PRINCES, DUKES AND CALIPHS, ESCAPED SLAVERY TO THE WICKED BABAR-SUNG RAIDERS AND EVEN TURNED HIS BACK ON A BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS NAMED YAMEESH WHO WAS FULL-BOSOMED, WASP-WASTED AND A VIRGIN TO BOOT

“Oh, it’s you,” she said.

Here the story is the title. The whole plot is given in the title. The story, which is only one line, adds something still, the girl’s reaction when he shows up. (The sad part is magazine’s don’t pay for titles, so I only got five words for it. No, not really.)

The property by what it is should go, Not by the title.-All’s Well That Ends Well

The title of a story is not the meat of the venture. A poor story with a great title is worse than a great story with the wrong title. Whether you begin with the beginning or in the middle or even at the end, it doesn’t matter as long you make sure all are the best they can be. Titles are a useful tool to generate ideas. If nothing else, you can answer that age old question: “Where do you get your ideas?”

“Title, my dear, titles.”

All stories that appear in this article are copyright G. W. Thomas. This piece is copyright 2010.