The pleasures of a 100-word story
Writing a story in only 100 words might seem, on the surface, like an easy task, and there is no doubt that it takes less time than writing a longer piece. However, writing a good story in exactly 100 words is a serious challenge. Such stories are like poems in that the writer has to give a lot of thought to every word. They have to ask themselves many questions: Can I make that same point but in fewer words? If I strip this sentence down to just three words, will it still be clear enough for the reader? Have I organised my material in the optimum way to achieve my effects?
It takes
real skill and confidence to pare a narrative down to its bare bones, and real
judgement to leave enough room for the individual craftsmanship of the writer,
for their ‘voice’ to emerge. It is the judiciously-used flourishes, the
carefully-placed image, the clever structural decisions, the knowledge of when
to use a sentence fragment or when to leave out a speech-tag, which often make
one drabble stand out from the others. The writer needs to trust the reader’s
ability to make the necessary leaps in understanding without having everything
spelled out for them.
One thing
that struck me about the drabbles submitted for this competition was the way
that some writers really used their creativity to push the form as far as they
could. Ron Hardwick’s ‘Smiler’ and Sue Davnall’s ‘In The Wall’ both use
dialogue as the method by which they get their stories across; Jane Langan’s
untitled drabble takes the form of a list, inspired by ‘The Very Hungry
Caterpillar’ by Eric Carle; Ruth Loten’s untitled drabble uses the three-act
structure of a play.
The theme of
the competition was ‘cats’ but this could be interpreted in whatever way the writers
wanted. Several of these drabbles were written from the point-of-view of the
cats themselves, and writers took on the persona of the cat with real
ingenuity. The narrator in Antonia Dunn’s chilling ‘Misfortune’ is ambiguous
until the end, when we suddenly realise how vulnerable this poor animal is;
‘The New Sofa’ by Lisa Gotts uses sentence fragments to convey the cat’s self-centred
thoughts; the cat narrator in Ron Hardwick’s ‘Master and Servant’ is a
knowledgeable and knowing creature who can easily outwit his supposed master;
in Wendy Toole’s ‘Remember Me’, the narrator is more indeterminate, probably
the cat who left the paw print but not necessarily. Others were written in a more straightforward
way, from a human viewpoint, but focused on a pet cat: Beck Collett’s
‘Tiddles’, for example, expresses the poignancy of cat-ownership very
effectively; Sue Davnall’s ‘The New One’ shows us an inter-species friendship
from the viewpoint of a pet-owner who wishes humans could be more like such
animals.
Though most
of the drabbles were about domestic cats, some weren’t. Ron Hardwick’s ‘Smiler’
considers a comic relationship between a human and a re-engineered talking
Smilodon (sabre-toothed tiger); D.H.L.Hewa’s ‘The Nick of Time’ focuses on a
magnificent tiger in a zoo and ends almost with a moment of magic realism as
the tiger is transformed into Blake’s Tiger, Tiger, Burning Bright; her
drabble ‘The Symbol’ uses the image of a lion on her birth-country’s emblem as
a starting point for considering loss and grief; the ravenous kitten in Jane
Langan’s untitled drabble metamorphoses into a spectacular tiger; Sue Davnall’s
‘In The Wall’ considers a creepy mummified cat hinting at pagan witchcraft;
Ruth Loten’s untitled drabble uses a performance of the musical ‘Cats’ to tell
part of a love story; and Beck Collett’s ‘Sometimes Even Tina’ tells the tragic
story of a girl called Caterina. The theme of ‘cats’ was explored fully and in
highly interesting and imaginative ways.
The other
thing that struck me in this small collection was the variety of moods and
atmospheres they created. There was humour, horror, sadness, realism, drama.
Some drabbles covered long periods of time (‘Remember me’, ‘Tiddles’), while
others were much more focused in time. Every drabble was more than merely an
anecdote or a joke – all had a narrative arc of some sort, some surprisingly
profound. It is incredible what writers can do with just 100 words!
The judges wish to remain anonymous but I'd like to thank them here for their hard work. Prizes will be sent out to the winner and runner-up this week. Below, I have posted a selection of drabbles from the competition (some people didn't want their work publishing here):
CONGRATULATIONS TO OUR WINNERS AND THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO TOOK PART.
And a big thanks to our unpaid judges.
First Prize Winner: Antonia Dunn
[won a copy of The Unadulterated Cat by Terry Pratchett and a small box of chocolates]
Misfortune by Antonia Dunn
They don't know about the man. He was
always doing odd jobs and shopping for her. He was arguing with her about
money. She wanted to leave it to the Cats Protection League.
Now the police are here, he's back.
Why won't they listen to me?
'This poor cat's been making terrible
noises since we arrived. Is there anyone who can look after her?' asks the
policewoman.
'Leave her with me' says the man.
'I'll take care of her.'
JUDGES' COMMENTS:
This is a
beautifully-structured drabble which uses the cat’s naïve perception of events
to create a moving and horrifying story. The judges were impressed by the way
it incorporated several features of much longer stories, such as dialogue,
description, inner thoughts, and a rhetorical question, and how it moved
confidently between past and present. It used all 100 words to excellent
effect, using structure to maximise the impact of the final line.
Photo taken by Wayne Miller
Runner-Up: Ruth Loten
[won a small writers' notebook and a small box of chocolates]
Untitled
By Ruth Loten
First Act.
My life was a
mess. Bad boyfriends. Lousy job.
My new start in
London begins at the theatre.
Cats. Singing.
Dancing. Twirling. Terrifying.
Interval.
The man next to me
turns. ‘Any idea what’s going on?’
I shake my head.
He gestures to the empty seat beside him.
‘Got tickets for
my ex. Dance teacher - didn’t know it was based on a book.’ He smiles. ‘I did.
No point wasting my money as well as my life.’
A pause.
‘Do you fancy a
drink after? Untangle the plot together?’
I hesitate, then
nod and smile.
Second Act.
Begins.
JUDGES' COMMENTS:
The judges were very impressed by the originality of the form this story took, being set out in three acts, echoing the theatrical performance the characters are experiencing. It was a love story, and conveyed a lot of information for so few words, including dialogue and narrative. They felt the story was clear and told with verve and imagination, and they believed in the characters. They did feel that the tenses were slightly muddled at the beginning (‘was’, ‘begins’).
A selection of other entries
Sometimes even Tina by
Beck Collett
Caterina
was dull. Everyone who met her as a babe remarked that she was ‘no trouble at
all,’ which translated as ‘she doesn’t do much, does she?’ By the time she
started school, everyone had forgotten Caterina’s name. She answered to all
sorts, sometimes even Tina. She didn’t know to correct them, so she didn’t.
Everyone who met her remarked how ‘clean and quiet’ she was, which translated
as ‘she’ll never leave her mark.’ So, it was rather ironic that when Caterina
disappeared that day, everyone finally looked for her. But by then it was too
late.
JUDGES' COMMENTS:
The judges particularly enjoyed the repetition of the idea of certain platitudinous or euphemistic phrases actually implying other things about Caterina. They felt that the central character was clearly and vividly portrayed despite very little being revealed about her, and the ending was shocking and moving. One judge commented that Beck might have left out the explicit reference to the ironic nature of the climax of the tale, as this perhaps was telling too much. However, the ending was an effective response to the first part, leading to narrative satisfaction.
Untitled
by Jane Langan
In the light of the moon, a kitten curled into a ball.
On Sunday, she woke to warm sun on her fur. She
uncurled.
Kitty started looking for food.
On Monday she ate one fish but was still hungry.
On Tuesday she ate two voles but was still hungry.
On Wednesday she ate three mice but was still hungry.
On Thursday she ate four eggs but was still hungry.
On Friday she ate six rats, seven birds, a mole, a
bat, and a rabbit.
She felt better and fell asleep.
On Saturday, she woke up and was a beautiful tiger.
*Inspired
by ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar’ by Eric Carle
JUDGES' COMMENTS:
Inspired by
Eric Carle’s famous children’s book ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar’, Jane’s story
took on the form of a myth or fable in which a mundane creature is transformed
into something magical. Unlike Hans Anderson’s ‘The Ugly Duckling’, this kitten
is beautiful right from the start, but it becomes strong and powerful as it
ingests more and more food. The judges enjoyed the fairytale quality of this
narrative, with its use of repetition and the accelerated growth span of the
kitten. It had some of the qualities of a poem.
.jpg)
The New Sofa by Isla
The new sofa’s
here. Delivery men gone. Wrapping off. Human not paying attention – time to
pounce!
Edge
of the arm, my tailed curled under me, claws digging into the new fabric. Mmmm,
it’s softer than the last one. Kind of them to buy me this giant new bed.
I
give it a scratch. This is the life… Tuna…tummy rubs…sunshine naps…
“Oi, Tabitha…off!”
The human’s shout interrupts my daydreams!
Oh
– guess it’s not mine! I jump down, swish my tail to show some attitude (I
was comfy there before being shooed off) and disappear through my cat
flap...
JUDGES' COMMENTS:
The judges
enjoyed the lightness of this drabble, which depicts the thoughts and actions
of a mischievous domestic cat when its owners buy a new sofa. The narrative has
an effective ‘volta’ in the middle, where the cat suddenly realises the sofa
wasn’t bought for him. The cat’s emotions are conveyed clearly and anyone who
has ever owned a cat will recognise the realism of this cat’s behaviour. The
judges liked how Lisa had got inside the mind of the cat in a plausible way,
though they felt that the ending could be strengthened slightly.
Photo by Louise Wilford
Master and Servant by Ron Hardwick
My master is a little bald man with a Hitler moustache. I say master, but it is I who is master, not
he. He gets annoyed when I exercise my
claws on his sofa. He feeds me
disgusting Kattomeat, which I happen to know is made from the offal of
horses. He left a dish of smoked salmon
on the table the other day, which was delicious. He flipped his lid. 'When I catch you, Minky, I'm going to ring
your bloody neck.' I smile, because, inadequate little berk that he is, he
needs me more than I need him.
JUDGES' COMMENTS:
This
humorous tale gets inside the mind of a domestic cat with authenticity and
comic appeal. The judges enjoyed the tension between the cat’s cynical view of
the world and the master’s lack of comprehension of his pet’s opinions. They
did wonder how a cat would know about Hitler’s moustache, but felt that this
reference was acceptable given the humorous genre. They felt the drabble was
well-structured.
Photo by Louise Wilford
Tiddles by Beck Collett
I
loved you from the moment I saw you lying upside-down in your litter tray.
Eighteen months old and mad, you were meant for me. Nobody else could cuddle
you; your pointy black face and moss-green eyes staring up at me in
bewilderment. Always.
We removed the wallpaper because you kept
climbing it, got used to mopping up puddles of water, puddles of wee when you
started to forget, when you went blind.
Now, I hold you to my chest like a new-born, so you can feel my heart beating as your own runs out. I love you. Always.
The judges
(all cat-lovers) found this very poignant and realistic. They commented on how
Beck had covered so much time in so few words, and praised the story’s
structure. They felt that the examples given of the cat’s behaviour, all told
from the owner’s viewpoint and revealing the indulgence with which we treat our
pets, were very well-chosen and vivid. They liked the phrase ‘so you can feel
my heart beating as your own runs out’ and the simplicity of the ending.
Photo by Beck Collett
Smiler by Ron Hardwick
‘G-r-r-r-r.’
‘Come again?’
‘G-r-r-r-r.’
‘Are you threatening me?’
‘Of course. I’m a
smilodon.’
‘Smilodon?’
‘Are you stupid?
Smilodon. Sabre-toothed tiger.’
‘Didn’t expect to see one in Runcorn.’
‘I’ve been cloned.’
‘Cloned?’
‘What are you - an echo?’
‘Sorry.’
‘DNA - from thigh-bones, under the ice in Alaska.’
‘How come you ended up here?’
‘Millionaire from Timperley bought me. Private zoo. Escaped
yesterday.’
‘You’re one of a kind.’
‘I know. I’m so
desperately lonely. Don’t suppose you
need a pet?’
‘I could do with someone to guard my collection of rare
acetylene lamps.’
‘Splendid. Name’s
Smiler, by the way.’
.jpg)
Photo by Louise
Wilford
JUDGES' COMMENTS ON THE OTHER DRABBLES:
‘The New
One’ by Sue Davnall
This was
another sweet-centred tale, showing the tension and ultimately the intimacy
between two creatures of different species. The judges liked the sentence
fragmentation at the beginning and the examples of why the dog finds the kitten
irritating and confusing, but felt that maybe the final sentence stated the
‘moral of the story’ a little too explicitly and could have been implied more.
‘In the wall’ by Sue Davnall
The judges
were impressed by the way Sue told the story entirely through dialogue, and her
confidence in leaving much to the reader’s imagination. The dialogue was
realistic, and the subject was fascinating, if creepy! The writer managed to
convey what was happening in the story very cleverly simply through the words
characters spoke. It was simultaneously scary and humorous, and told a clear
and complete tale in a very succinct way.
‘The Nick
Of Time’ by D.H.L.Hewa
This is an
interesting story with an effective ‘volta’ in the middle, as the observer of
the tiger (a child, we assume) is whisked away from the glass window through
which she has been watching the huge cat. The judges particularly liked the
reference to Blake’s famous tiger poem and the way the writer included this
almost like magic realism, as if the tiger is transformed into the creature
from Blake’s poem. This intertextuality made this drabble unusual and was very
effective.
‘The
Symbol’ by D.H.L.Hewa
This is an unusual
drabble in this collection in that it uses a symbolic representation of a cat
to explore emotions of homesickness, national pride, loss and grief. The judges
liked the use of literary flourishes such as the onomatopoeia of ‘crashes,
crumbles’, and felt that the story ended on a powerful note, expressing deep
feeling. The judges commented that perhaps the symbol could have been linked to
the death a little more thoroughly, however.
‘Remember
Me’ by Wendy Toole
The thing
that most impressed the judges about this story was Wendy’s use of the future
tense. This speculative voice, expressed with a tone of confident expectation,
was very effective. It wasn’t absolutely clear who was narrating, though the
judges decided it was the cat itself, and they felt that this slight ambiguity enhanced
the piece. The story was beautifully structured and well-controlled, and the
judges commented on how confident it sounded.
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