Did you know that some of literature’s greatest novelists got started by writing short stories? The short story form is a great way to develop your creative writing skills and get your creative wheels turning. Plus, they can help you start building up your publication credits and give you a head start at a writing career.
If you’ve never attempted a short story before, you may be wondering how exactly to begin writing one. We’ll take you through everything you need to know about getting started and mastering the opening to this tricky creative form. Let’s dive in!
What is a short story?
A short story is a cohesive, self-contained narrative of up to approximately 7,500 words. Short stories normally follow between two and five characters in one or two settings, and take place in a limited space of time. They have an underlying theme but are less elaborate and developed than a full-length novel.
A short story of under 1,000 words is called “flash fiction.” A story over 7,500 words that’s not long enough to be a novel is a “novelette” or “novella.”
The short story vs. the novel
The short story and the novel aren’t only separated by the number of pages. While a novel is about emotional depth, short stories are about concision. They communicate a lot about the characters’ world in a small, precise amount of space.
Novels generally have a wide cast of characters with dense character development—sometimes dozens of them, if it’s a sprawling epic like Game of Thrones. The extended space of a novel allows for complex backstories, subplots, heroes, villains, antiheroes, antivillains, red herrings, and plot twists.
Short stories, by contrast, don’t have as much room to play. They follow just one plot line and a small handful of characters. You can hint at things that have happened off the page, but what the reader actually gets to see is a snapshot in time.
The short story and the novel forms have a lot of elements in common—primarily compelling characters, motivations, conflict, and theme—but they’re ultimately different variations of the writing craft.
How to start writing a short story
If you’ve never written a short story before, the process might seem a bit overwhelming. Not to worry—here’s everything you need to know about getting started, with a few tips on finding your perfect opening, too!
1. Find your premise
A premise is the basic idea for a story. These are often “what if” questions: What if a kid discovered an alien creature sitting on his doorstep? What if all women on earth suddenly gained the ability to read minds? What if a champion wrestler was blackmailed into sabotaging his career? Etc, etc.
The premise also, very often, shows you your inciting incident. This gives you a head start as you plan out how your story is going to go (more on this in a minute!).
A good warmup exercise is to take a sheet of paper and write as many “what if” premises as you can think of. It’s okay if some of them seem silly—they might be a diamond in the rough! Then, choose your favorite and start exploring it.
2. Open “in medias res”
“In medias res,” sometimes written as “in media res” (without the s), is a term that means “in the midst of things.” This means skipping the preliminary preamble and leaping straight into the action.
If your story is about a champion wrestler who’s being blackmailed into sabotaging his career, avoid the temptation to open with the shady deal and the star’s dire straits. Instead, open in the ring as the wrestler goes against every instinct and lets his opponent win. Jackie Skullcrusher is on the ropes, ladies and gentlemen! He’s taken another hit! Has the king finally fallen? As soon as your short story begins, things are already happening.
Because a short story has so little space, you really need to hit the ground running and grab the reader’s attention.
3. Get to know your characters
The next step is to get to know the people who will populate your story. Start with the protagonist and explore who else they’ll interact with on their journey. In the first premise, you already have two characters: the kid and the alien. Who are these people? What do they want? Is it a friendly alien, or a devious one? Where did it come from?
The kid probably has some parents, too; maybe they fight all the time, and that’s why he stepped outside. Make some notes about the people you think you’re going to write about. Then, decide what your main character wants most. Maybe the kid wants to run away from home. Or maybe he wants to make his parents fall back in love. Or maybe he wants to be a fighter pilot.
Your story is all about watching the main character pursue this goal, and the inevitable shenanigans that ensue.
4. Raise questions
The key way to get your readers turning pages is to get them asking questions. In the above in medias res example, opening in the midst of the action immediately creates a question: why is the wrestler letting the other man win? What does he have to gain? What does he have to lose? Your audience is going to have to keep reading to find out.
Most questions will be some variation of “why is this happening at this particular moment” and “what’s going to happen next?” An effective way to do this is to present a situation that seems counterintuitive or out of place. It shows the reader that there’s more going on than meets the eye.
5 ways to open a short story
Now that you know how to get started, here are a few different approaches you can take to shaping your story’s opening scene.
1. Open with setting
If a unique setting plays an important role in your story, you can begin by using sensory imagery to place your readers in the scene. Here’s an example:
This was Melanie’s favorite part: standing in the dark underneath the big top, just before the curtain rose, with the audience waiting breathless in the seats.
The reader immediately knows that we’re backstage in a circus tent, with the show only moments away.
If you’re writing fantasy or science fiction, the worldbuilding might be the thing that draws your reader in. Or, if you’re writing a literary short story that takes place in an office, you could open with a description of the office building’s suffocating homogeneity. By bringing your story’s pivotal setting to life right from the start, you can “hook” your reader and make them want to read more.
2. Open with dialogue
Sometimes, opening mid-conversation can be an effective way to grab your reader’s attention. Through dialogue you can hint at setting, conflict, and the dynamic between the speaker and listener. Here’s an example:
“Remember,” Melanie said, placing her hands on Sadie’s shoulders, “keep your back straight, your toes pointed, and your smile on. You only get one chance at this, so make it count.”
This in medias res opening introduces another person into the scene, and some stakes. The physicality referenced in the opening line suggests a performance that relies on the body—posture for safety, a smile for entertainment. What happens if the characters fail at their one chance? The reader will have to keep reading to find out.
3. Open with mystery
Regardless of genre, all good stories should open with questions. It’s a delicate balance to give the reader enough information that they don’t get confused, but leave enough unsaid that they’ll want to learn more. Here’s an example:
Sadie waited for the curtain to rise, hoping her fear didn’t show on her face. She looked around at the other performers, who had welcomed her without question. Could she really go through with her plan and betray them all?
In just a small amount of space, numerous dynamics are established. There’s subterfuge. There’s compassion. There’s internal conflict. And there’s a show about to begin.
4. Open with the ending
Sometimes it can be fun to reveal the end of a story in order to create some dramatic irony. This means that the readers know what’s going to happen, but the characters don’t. To do this you open your short story with a closing scene, then go back to the beginning (if this were a film it would say something like “Three Days Earlier”). Here’s an example of opening with an ending:
As the flames crawled higher and Melanie looked around at the carnage that had been her life, she didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. When the circus collapsed in on itself and people she’d known her whole life left her behind, the last thing she’d expected to feel was free.
Now the reader knows what’s coming… they just don’t know how. All they can do is watch the characters careen towards the inevitable.
5. Open with a confession
A popular way to open short stories is to engage the reader in an act of entreatment. The narrator wants the reader on their side. This creates a sense of humorous intimacy and pulls the reader into the scene. Here’s an example:
So you’ve got to understand that I never meant to burn the whole place down. Things just got a little out of hand. I’m not saying that I’m not completely blameless, but I had a good reason. I mean, tell me, really: if it had been you, wouldn’t you have done the exact same thing?
Now the reader is complicit in whatever the main character has done. And, like any good opening, it raises important questions: what happened? And why? What were her reasons? Would I have done the same thing? They’ll have to keep reading to find out!
Although there are no hard and fast rules to writing the perfect story, these techniques are tried and tested ways to set up a powerful experience for your readers.
Example of short stories with great beginnings
Ready to see how these techniques look in practice? Here are a few examples of how other writers have crafted short stories (you can read them all online!) with effective openings.
“Christopher Raven” by Theodora Goss
Why had I come back to Collingswood? That was what I asked myself, standing on the path that led to the main school building, a structure built of gray stone and shadowed by oaks that had stood for a hundred years. I had ridden the cart from the train station, just as I had so many years ago at the beginning of each term. Then, I had been accompanied by a trunk almost as large as I was, filled with clothes and books. Now I carried only a small suitcase. It contained another walking suit, a dress suitable for dinner, and toiletries. I would only be here for one night. Why had I come back? Because I had been invited to give a speech. Surely that was all.
“Christopher Raven” opens with a question: why has the narrator returned to her childhood school? Because the setting is so integral to the story, the writer offers details spread throughout the paragraph that describe the landscape and hint that this is a historical narrative. This makes it clear that the setting will play an important role in the events to come.
Then, the narrator repeats the opening question again, clearly trying to convince herself that nothing more sinister than an academic appointment is at play. But, the reader knows better. This creates a sense of mystery and suspense.
“The Guaranteed Eternal Life Assurance Company” by Joanne Harris
The blood from the offerings was barely dry when Terry heard the knock at the door. A discreet tick-ticking against the hardwood. And again. Tick-tick. He swore. Who the hell could it be at this time of night?
A quick glance around the room showed what remained of his long hours of working. The candles burnt down to oily stumps, the chalk circle slicked with the drippings from his sweat, the pale boards spidered with hieroglyphs, himself breathless and drained from his repeated incantations. The shadows, which a moment ago had seemed to darken, perhaps in prelude to some apparition, had since receded, revealing unwelcome glimpses of the prosaic interior. Maxine’s Laura Ashley curtains. The dishes of pot-pourri, so incongruous beside the arcana of his offerings, the slaughtered cat, the blood, the honey, salt, wine, the dish of peacock hearts.
This story opening lands the reader immediately in a rather alarming yet unimpressive scene, heavy with juxtaposition. The first few words, “The blood from the offerings was barely dry,” communicate a lot in a compact space—you don’t need anything more than this to know that someone is conducting a ritual and offering sacrifices within it. Why? We don’t know yet. What we do know within the first paragraph is that a stranger has arrived, unexpected and unwelcome, and the plot is about to start unfolding because of them.
The second paragraph feeds in some more details about the gruesome scene, yet contrasts them against the banal, domestic “Laura Ashley curtains.” Now we can see this person and their life a bit more clearly. Like any good opening, this snapshot leaves the reader full of questions.
“Waystation City” by A.T. Greenblatt
I was finishing the last of my nightly coffee when the nineteen-seventies twins approached my table and asked me to bear witness to their disappearance.
This was not an unusual request at Cafe Liminalité, being the locale of patrons that dreamed too much and ate too little. I, being its longest and oldest customer, had heard—and witnessed—this request many times.
“Pardon me,” the taller twin said. “Are you Mme. Hexler?”
Her voice was soft, but her gaze was direct. Beside her, her brother, a head shorter and shorter still by his slouched posture, placed his hands in his pockets. They both had lovely ebony skin and black, cloudlike hair that surrounded their head in a halo. Her shirt was a cheerful yellow knit, and there was a bright kerchief tied around her neck. His was white and synthetic with a wide, deep collar, edged with red. They wore tight fitting pants of blue denim that flared at the bottom. I am told these are called jeans.
This award-winning story opens with a cracker first line. The “nightly coffee” immediately implies that for this first-person narrator, this is a formulaic night like any other. But if everything went the way it always does there would be no story, and so the inciting incident is set in motion by two people arriving to ask for help.
The following paragraph adds some detail and dimension to a previously formless scene, revealing where we are and what the narrator is experiencing. The last line is important, because it’s another one that does a lot of heavy lifting in a small space: “I am told these are called jeans.” This reveals that the narrator is from… you know… out of town. What seems normal to us may not be normal to them.
Nail the opening to your short story
Learning to write short stories that are sharp, powerful, and brief is one of the most challenging skills for a writer to master—and it all starts with a powerful opening. With these key short story writing tips, you’ll be spinning stories that ensnare readers in no time.
