Hemingway once wrote a story in just six words and is said to have called it his best work.
What was that story: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn."
It is a great challenge for any short story writer to write his shortest story, condensed, meaningful and very powerful.
So, if I may ask, what is your six-word story? Could you please share it with us?
Here's mine: "Born from ashes, fallen nation's son."
He's dead. Can we kiss now?
I not poorly educated, educated poorly.
Originally Posted by Uberzensch
omg that's funny :P
This thread reminded me of an email fwd I'd read before:
A college class was told they had to write a short story in as few words as possible. The instructions were that the short story had to include the following:
1. Religion
2. Sexuality
3. Mystery
Below is the only A+ in the class:
"Good God, I'm pregnant. I wonder who did it"
Last edited by Stargazer86; 04-24-2009 at 04:20 PM. Reason: adding more
LOL That's brilliant stargazer!!!
Uberzensch - GWAHAHA
Perpetually late, she missed her life.
Then she would run until morning to ease the ache; swifter than rain, swift as loss, racing to catch up with the time when she had known nothing at all but the sweetness of being herself.
-- Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn
Looking for another word for Thesaurus!
Les Miserables,
Volume 1, Fifth Book, Chapter 3
Remember this, my friends: there are no such things as bad plants or bad men. There are only bad cultivators.
What do you think Hemingway meant in his six-word story?
*The irony concealed in death?
*The irony of dying young?
*Poorness?
*The memory of a painful childhood?
*War?
I thank everyone who has joined thus far.
You should look up in a Thesaurus
Ok, ok the herring did it.
I am poorly educated, can't even count
Those people will never accept you.
Oh crap. There it all goes.
Theodore was my mother in law.
Naked except for a cigarette, you let your mind drift and forget your disbelief. Feel the chill down your back and the flutter of wings through dandelion fields, and forget the pull of gravity in a night without stars.
I lack eloquence and commitment to my arguments. They are half baked, and I will begin passionately, and then abandon them.
I was born later I died.
Les Miserables,
Volume 1, Fifth Book, Chapter 3
Remember this, my friends: there are no such things as bad plants or bad men. There are only bad cultivators.
Or possibly, less dramatic, a story of parents being given a gift of baby shoes (expensive enough to sell), but when the baby can wear them the baby's feet are too big. They were worried about giving them away to people around them, so sell them to strangers.
Driver kills. Go directly to Jail.
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