The Hat

In my last blog entry I gave examples of extremely short "stories" that were intriguing because they generate many questions and leave much to the reader's imagination.  The examples I listed were all fictional and meant to entertain.

But here's one from my childhood, and unlike those others, this one is true. It's a haunting memory that generates more questions than answers.

In the mid-1950's we lived in a new subdivision in Sacramento, California, just a few blocks from the American River. Today there are bikepaths along the river, and it's a popular recreation spot. But when I lived there it looked pretty much like this.

My friends and I used to play baseball in a field less than 50 yards from the river. And along one side of the ball field was a bridge spanning the river. I don't know if this bridge was this one, but it looks very similar.

One summer morning as we played ball, someone came running to tell us that a man had stopped his car on the bridge, then he got out and jumped -- an apparent suicide. We ran up the bank to the bridge, and, sure enough, there was a gray car sitting there. The motor had been turned off, and the driver's door was open.

We ran back down to the riverbank, and there, on the ground, directly beneath the bridge, was a spooky scene: a man's hat, sitting next to the water.

The river was calm -- no sign of anyone in the water.

Nobody ever learned the rest of the story.

Short and Sweet

These days it's not uncommon for your favorite movie DVD to contain a section called extra scenes -- stuff the director once thought necessary, but, after a closer look, chose to leave on the cutting room floor. Being a good conversationalist requires the same skill. As Marvin J. Ashton once said, "Wise is the man who says what needs to be said, but not all that could be said." (Brings to mind the old saying, "I asked him for the time, and he told me how to make a clock!" Know anyone like this?)

The same goes for being a good writer. Cultivate the ability to use just the right words and cut out the fluff. Less can definitely be more. Not so in high school, though. Our teachers told us our essays had to be a minimum of 500 words, so we obliged -- even if we could have made our point with only 300. 

It takes real effort to condense one's message and still make a powerful impact, but it's possible to do so without rambling. Author Ernest Hemingway is credited with writing this 6-word novel: "For sale: baby shoes. Never worn."

This morning on my favorite radio show, NPR's Weekend Edition, host Scott Simon was interviewing Robert Swartwood, author of the new collection, Hint Fiction: An Anthology of Stories in 25 Words or Fewer. If you want to see how to tell a story in very few words, this one's for you. The great thing is how they all require an active imagination on the part of the reader.

Examples:

1) Jermaine's Postscript To His Seventh-Grade Poem Assignment, by Christoffer Molnar:

Ms. Tyler, the girl part was about Shantell. Please don't tell anyone.

2) Ransom, by Stuart Dybeck:

Broke and desperate, I kidnapped myself. Ransom notes were sent to interested parties. Later, I sent hair and fingernails, too. They insisted on an ear.

3) The Man Of Tomorrow Or Maybe You've Heard This One Before, But You've Never Heard It Like This, by Will Panzo:

Dying planet. A boy, a rocket, a last hope. Kansas cornfield crash landing. Ma finds it sleeping in the crater. Pa fetches the shotgun.

4) Through Tiny Windows, by Barry Napier:

When they opened the cadaver, they found a house. A couple argued inside. There was rhythm to their words, like the beating of a heart.

5) Knock Knock Joke From Father Washing Dishes With Shirtsleeves Rolled Up:

Father: "Knock Knock."
Child: "Who's there?"
Father: "She Loves."
Child: "She loves who?"
Father: "Exactly!"

6) Houston, We Have a Problem, by J. Matthew Zoss: 

I'm sorry, but there's not enough air in here for everyone. I'll tell them you were a hero.

And my favorite:

7) The Return, by Joe R. Lansdale: 

They buried him deep. Again.