My File of Forgotten Stories

Note: Someone recently asked me how long it took to write a short story. She didn’t like my answer, so here it is, in another form.

Like most of my writing colleagues, I do a lot of editing and revising. Few of my published works have ever had fewer than half a dozen drafts, and then there are the weeks of tinkering, fussing over one particular word or phrase. In general, however, if I put a story aside for any length of time, the odds are good that I’ll never go back to it. 

This morning I opened my short story file thinking it might be time to clear out the deadwood. Some stories were not meant to be revised, salvaged and remade, no matter how much time I spent on them.

The first story I pulled up had several versions, which seemed confusing, so I went to the next one, which I liked and wasn’t sure what to do with. This went on for several stories until I pulled up one that I had enjoyed writing but couldn’t figure out a good ending. I wanted a surprise, but it couldn’t be too complicated because the narrator was an airhead and couldn’t deliver anything complex. As I read it through, I felt the story still had possibilities. I decided to analyze the working (and nonworking) parts to see where I could make improvements.

First, I considered the tone—humorous, light, satirical, just as I prefer. 

Second, I liked the characters. The narrator, Babe, is an airhead and the tone of the story reflects that. She is married to Nick. Her pal Charley, a gay man who was hired as cook and housekeeper, manages her easily, and she adores him. She often finds him trying on her clothes in her walk-in closet, and takes his advice on her wardrobe even if it means giving up a favorite item of clothing. Nick likes Charley because he minds his own business, is a good cook, and keeps Babe occupied.

Third, the plot works up to the last quarter. Babe and Charley discover a dead body, which they then have to get rid of. All of this works, and the two succeed in walking away from the corpse, safe and alive. But the story needs more of an oomph for an ending. Charley needs to be more than a quirky character, and to have more than an accidental role in Babe’s life. Once I trashed the last few pages, I could pare the plot down to something simpler and find the pressure points to build into the story a more complex series of twists. I added a character, altered Charley’s role just a little, and gave a few more hints on Nick’s “occupation.”

The key to being able to rescue this story from the slurping sound of the trash (this is a Mac—my trash basket slurps) was, first, the tone and, second, Babe’s husband’s line of work. As she explained, he spent his time talking “to the boys, whoever they are.”

Not every story will be as easy to rework, and not every story will be worth the effort. This one in particular had more going for it than not—the characters, the tone, the basic setup. With a reworking of the plot, the characters go farther and the story has a nice twist at the end. I’ll give it another polish, work up a better title, and send it out. 

After spending weeks working on a particular history article that turned out to be unnecessary for my graduate research, my professor said, “Nothing is ever wasted.” I’m not sure that’s always true, but in writing fiction, it’s a good principle to keep in mind.

Naming Characters

 

Revising my current work-in-progress requires one or two new characters, so I’m trying to come up with names that suit their role and personality. This is a task that is both fun and important. The wrong name can make the character feel like a misfire in the story, and throw off the reader.

Some years ago I submitted a manuscript to an editor I knew who had accepted other work from me, and when she returned it she pointed out that all the character names began with the letter P. Until she wrote that, I hadn’t noticed. How had I missed that? I was clearly in a rut.

Over the years I’ve tried whatever name comes to mind, which is what often leads to characters with the same initial letter, the same cultural background, or names so similar that they confuse the reader. Then I tried a couple of name generators, but they tended to produce names all from the world of WASPs.

Like any writer I have various print resources, including a book that brags it has 15,000 baby names organized by language, ethnicity, gender, and including definitions and some famous individuals by them. Reading through these lists can be fun and distracting, and not always productive.

Did you know that Mhairie, Scottish from the Hebrew Miryam, means “bitterness,” “rebellion,” and “wished-for child.” The last definition is lovely, but a child carrying the first one could resent her parents mightily. Dyami means “eagle” in a Native American language, and would perhaps carry the child to great heights.

Most of these techniques or devices didn’t satisfy me. When I used what I thought was an easy to accept but unusual name, one of my Beta readers struggled with it, so out it went. And yet I see more and more in print names that I’ve never encountered before and whose origins I can't begin to identify—a sign of our expanding world and cultural environment but one that doesn’t really help me.

Instead of looking around me for the perfect name I’ve taken a closer look at the character and tried to get a name that seems to speak about who he or she is. Hence the main character in the first book of my new series, Felicity O’Brien, is both Irish and endowed with happiness and occasionally bliss, but also with a love of knowing. She is the daughter of women who also bore unusual names that spoke to their character. Her mother, Charity, is shown to have an especially generous heart in the first book. Not every character has an unusual name, but I enjoyed calling the owner of the local sawmill Dingel Mantell, and his daughter Padma. 

Names that were once common seem unusual to us now, even idiosyncratic and peculiar, and among these I often find just the right one for a particular character. This is a task in the writing of a novel or short story that seems obstructive when I want to get writing, but in the end I generally feel so comfortable with the person I've uncovered with the appropriate name that I count the time well spent.