Gordon's Writing Advice
Why and How to Write 60 Minute Fiction
By Gordon the Friendly Dragon
I have heard many writers, young and old alike, say that the most daunting obstacle in writing is the blank page. Due to my experience with computer word processing, I prefer to think of this as “Lonely Cursor Syndrome” (LCS for short). I have heard similar complaints from many of my language arts students and writing associates. Usually in an uncharacteristically whiney or angry voice, they say, “What should I write,” or “I know what I want to say, but where do I start?” My first impulse upon hearing this, particularly from a student who has heard detailed instructions and has a written copy of those instructions within easy viewing distance, is to sigh, purposefully tap the top of their paper with the tip of my tail, and say, “Start with the first word.” This is true of course, but it is not so much an answer as an expression of my frustration with the vast open expanse of processed wood pulp (or the sad slow flash of a lonely cursor) that blocks the progress of all self-conscious writers.
I needed powerful leverage to move past my own inhibitions because, as long as my stories remained unfinished, I always had reason to keep them to myself.
Another common complaint I have noticed among new writers is an inability to complete what has been started. I know one fellow with exceptional natural ability. If what he tells me is true, and I believe it is, his fiction word count alone is likely higher than the total word count of all of my short fiction, essays, and research papers combined. Sadly, I have yet to verify this, as he refuses to let anyone read his work. You may wonder why a naturally gifted writer might hide his creations from his perspective adoring fans. I can think of two reasons. First, like me, he felt the need to polish his writing to perfection before he shared an intensely personal experience with the world (obviously I have gotten over that particular hurdle). Second, and equally important, he never finished a story. He has enough written work to equal a larger than average novel under his belt, yet he has never finished a single tale.
I understand his reluctance. I had the same problem. In my case, I started writing as a freshman in high school. I wrote on and off (usually off) for seven years before I finished a piece of writing on my own, well, mostly on my own; I had to enroll in a fiction writing course to get it done, but the teacher only sat in my lap to help me press keys for the first three pages. After that it was all me baby, and knowing that my grade point average was on the line, I found I could manage to write an end to my stories after all. I needed powerful leverage to move past my own inhibitions because, as long as my stories remained unfinished, I always had reason to keep them to myself. As long as they weren't finished, I couldn't fail.
“Say, Gordon?” Says the family member/friend, “Have you written anything interesting lately?”
“Sure,” says me. “I'm working on a story about-fill in fascinating plot-, and it's going great.”
“Cool, can I read it?”
“Nope,” says me with a toothy grin, “it's not finished.”
“And it never will be,” says the family member's/friend's equally toothy, knowing smile, and the humiliation of total failure is averted... sort of.
This brings us back to 60 minute fiction. Writing in college and in my spare time helped me to deal with these problems, but never to overcome them. After my fiction writing course, I spent a further five years using the courage gained by my few victories to do battle with my fear. I produced, but slowly. I created, but only Mrs. Gordon saw my creations, and then only if I worked up the courage to tell her about one. The solution came one night while Mrs. Gordon and I were drunk, on life and love only I assure you, and in the mood to create.
Normally Mrs. Gordon draws while I write, but she decided to try her hand at a story that night. She wanted each of us to write a story and compare the finished products. I complained that the shortest elapsed time from the start of one of my stories to the end was six weeks, give or take. “Then write faster,” she said, “I want to do this.” We set a dead line of one hour. Thirty minutes to write, and thirty to edit. I finished mine in forty-five. The result was the first story posted on this site, “Dark.” It wasn't the best thing I'd ever written, nor was it particularly original, but it was very liberating, and it shaved five weeks, six days, twenty-three hours, and fifteen minutes off of my record. We did it again. This time we set a topic, werewolves, and had at it. Three hours later I had my second “60” minute story. We did it again.
Nearly two years have passed. It was one of the busiest periods of my life even without the extra writing, yet the number of stories in my fiction hoard has nearly doubled. I continue to work on other, longer stories, but 60 minute fiction, along with the articles I write for this site, makes up the bulk of my writing now. I think I have finally beaten the fear and embarrassment that comes with the desire to create. I managed to strangle that little Gordon in the back of my head that calls me a pretentious, egotistical, glory hog every time I try to create something for an audience. I've choked him with my writing and put my work up for all to see. He still comes back from time to time, but he doesn't complain much. He just dangles his legs off the edge of my conscious mind, rubbing the bruises on his neck and looking sullen.
I don't know that my entrance into the world of public writing was necessarily a good idea, or that I've improved to the point where large numbers of people will want to read my work, but I don't particularly care anymore. That was the secret. I want to write, and I want others to see my writing. I no longer give a creeping crap what most people think of me. I found a way out of my funk, and I'd like to share it with you.
60 minute fiction is a tool. Take it, and use it to beat your own internal demons senseless. Write something. If you like the result, and you think it fits our style, send it in and we'll do our best to put it up.
Guidelines for 60 Minute Fiction
The guidelines have been modified since I first wrote Dark. We realized the limitations of a thirty minute deadline for composition, so we dumped it and started over. We tried to leave enough wiggle room for you to write what you want to write, but enough restriction to force an ending. If anything, the rules have gotten simpler.
- Ideally, you spend sixty minutes in composition and sixty minutes in editing, thus preserving the catchy title “60 minute fiction” while allowing for longer works and slower writers.
- You do not have to stick to the sixty minute deadline for writing or editing. Weird huh. As long as you manage your composition in a single sitting (brief bathroom and snack breaks permitted, but no naps or meals) you are doing fine. Editing may take as long as you like, so long as it is done in one sitting and the word count remains within 5% of the original composition. On a 1000 word story that gives you 50 word leeway. We think this is pretty generous given that you can take your sweet time fixing stuff.
- Once you have begun a composition, you may not make changes beyond the paragraph or conversation you are currently working on. Leave that for the editing phase.
- Include approximate writing and editing times when you submit your story, and label it as 60 minute fiction. We will post the times with the story to satisfy the curiosity of any looky loos.
- Because we have only your word to go on, and we don't know you from Puff, we will post your story either in the magazine, if we like it enough, or in a separate, reader submitted, 60 minute fiction page.
That's it, that's all, they ain't no mo. Take it and run. Take it as my permission and impassioned appeal for you to create lots and lots of little baby stories. They're good practice, and they're great fun.
What are you still doing here. You could be an hour away from the best story you've ever written, or the first. Go on, scram. Beat it. You've got writing to do.
Sincerely,
Gordon the Friendly Dragon
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Writing Advice