When Is A Story Finished? Is It Ever?

Is a story ever finished? Are you ever done tweaking? How many edits is enough?

I'm going on 3 hours of sleep after a night of writing, editing, reading, done, oh-wait-this sentence is better, writing, editing, reading, ah-one more change, and repeat. My inability to keep my eyes open any longer ended the cycle. Still, I'm happy with the result - though I did spend another hour or so in the cycle this morning. That's how it goes with me. I actually enjoy deadlines because it means I HAVE to finish. I see deadlines as a relief to endless edits and obsessing.

Countering Dirty Realism with Squeaky Optimism

About a year ago, a handful of co-workers and myself formed a writing guild. We meet monthly to discuss and share writing, usually focusing on a prompt. This month's prompt addressed minimilism, with emphasis on a writing style connected with various writers from the 1970s and 1980s, including Raymond Carver, termed dirty realism. For the prompt, we read Raymond Carver's, Cathedral.

In general, dirty realism is intense, brief, and focused on everyday lives of ordinary people, typically those of lower-middle class, or those who have been isolated, or marginalized.

Here was our prompt:

Meeting focus – Discuss/practice the use of minimalism and elements of dirty realism in short story writing.

1.     Read Cathedral, by Raymond Carver. Come to the meeting ready to discuss elements of character, tone, voice and style developed in the story.

2.     Drawing from your own experience, write the beginning of a story where you introduce us to a common, ordinary scene and characters. Success will be measured by the degree with which the tone, writer’s style and character’s voices capture our interest/attention. (Constraint: 300 words or less with no sentence containing more than 10 words.)

I'd never heard of dirty realism or Carver. After reading the piece, I am not a fan of either. I tend to gravitate toward positive material, especially since becoming a father. Still, I can understand the merits and appeal to readers. Our guild held a great discussion and shared thoughts and stories. While the other members contributed pieces that emulated Carver's dirty style, I attempted a negative image of the writing style and termed it "squeaky optimism." Overall, I received positive feedback, but the guild pressed me to continue - maybe with a twist. So, I added the last line; it appeased them. Maybe I'll take the story someplace else one day.

Squeaky Optimism

The errant blade of grass caught his eye. He hadn’t noticed it earlier, returning from his morning jog. How could he? It was still dark. With nail clippers from his pocket, he bent and snipped. Perfect. Sniffing the clipping, he patted the lawn, admiring the rows. A singing robin caught his ear and he paused, enjoying.

“Mornin’, George!” Harry waved from across the street. “Another beauty, eh, neighbor?” Coffee in one hand and paper tucked, he crossed. The two met on the sidewalk. “Still on for tonight? Marge is making her famous roast.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, Harry. Betty will be baking an apple pie for desert.”

“Wonderful. See you later.” They parted ways.

George patted his stomach, still full from the morning breakfast. Ham instead of bacon was surprising, but a nice change. It was on sale, she’d said.

He rubbed a water spot from the sedan’s bumper. Timmy’s bicycle reflection appeared as he heard the familiar bell.

“Good morning, Mr. Smith!” Timmy breezed by.

“Good morning, Timmy! Nice job last Sunday!”

“Thank you, Sir!”

Good kid, George thought. They’re all good kids. He made a mental note to increase the donation.

George slid into the driver’s seat. He fastened the seatbelt and adjusted the mirrors. Pulling away, Betty emerged to pick tulips. She blew a kiss. He blew one back, smiling.

Off to the slaughter house for another day.

Peace Light - An Excerpt

Here is an excerpt from one of my children's stories, Peace Light, blending Christian traditions with new practices. It tells the story of an unexpected calling that reignites a father's faith, while emboldening his family's understanding through small miracles.

“What is that?” The small boy and girl looked at the lantern their father held.

“This is the Peace Light. It is very special.” The children’s father told the story of the Peace Light and how the flame originated at Jesus’ birthplace and was shared throughout the world. The children listened quietly until the girl asked, “What are we going to do with it?”

“We can enjoy it and share it with others.” He looked at the flame and felt a peaceful power.

Actively Finding Motivation and Inspiration to Write

I've been writing a lot, since my first posts. My wife has been wonderfully supportive of my personal challenge to write more and publish. I'm finding that the more I write, the more I want to write. However, once I stop, it can be difficult to get going again. One or two days of non-writing and the motivation scale can drop dramatically. Fortunately, my wife has been extremely encouraging. Also, I am doing my best to actively find motivation and inspiration. As events occur throughout the day, I'm thinking about how they could be used in a story. I'm jotting notes. I carry a tape recorder in my car for my daily commute. Overall, I am working to create opportunities to generate insight and capture it.

So far, I'm finding that the more I am open to finding motivation and inspiration for writing (and for anything in life), the more I am actively seeking it, the more it happens.