The Short Mystery Fiction Society is pleased to announce the winners of
the 2011 Derringer Awards for short mystery fiction:
Best Flash Fiction Story (under 1,000 words) - (TIE)
"The Book Signing," by Kathy Chencharik, _/*Thin Ice: Crime Stories by
New England Writers*/_, Leslie Wheeler, Mark Ammons, Barbara Ross, Kat
Fast, Eds., Level Best Books, November, 2010
and
"The Unknown Substance" by Jane Hammons, *A Twist of Noir*, December 27,
2010
Best Short Story (1,001-4,000 words)
"Pewter Badge," by Michael J. Solender, *Yellow Mama*, August, 2010
Best Long Story (4,001-8,000 words) - (TIE)
"Care of the Circumcised Penis" by Sean Doolittle, _/*Thuglit Presents: Blood, Guts & Whiskey*/_, Todd Robinson, Ed., Kensington Publishing Corp., May, 2010
and
"Interpretation of Murder" by B. K. Stevens, *Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine*, December, 2010
Best Novelette (8,001-17,500 words)
"Rearview Mirror" by Art Taylor, *Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine*, March, 2010
We offer hearty congratulations to these authors for their demonstrated
excellence in short fiction, and our sincere thanks to all who submitted
stories.
Presentation of the Awards will take place in conjunction with the short
story panel at Bouchercon 2011, held in St. Louis, MO in September.
Larry W. Chavis
Derringer Coordinator, 2011
Showing posts with label short stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short stories. Show all posts
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Saturday, January 22, 2011
WRITING THE MYSTERY SHORT STORY
WRITING THE MYSTERY SHORT STORY
By Kate Thornton
Back when I first started writing, many years ago, I assumed because I thought I was a writer, I was a novelist. I just started writing, throwing in everything I could think of to tell my heartbreaking tales of timeless wonder, deathless prose and obvious genius. Heck, I didn't even really know what a short story was when I started writing.
I ended up with lots and lots of words, but still they were inadequate in conveying the grand ideas I thought I had.
Something was wrong. Well, plenty was wrong, but mostly I was trying to tell stories in too many words - way too many words. Fortunately, I discovered that I wasn't really trying to write novels, I was trying to write short stories. Once I realized that my ideas were better suited to a short form, I got better with practice. Maybe the things I learned about short stories can help you.
What is a short story?
All short stories share some similar basic characteristics. They all have a beginning, a middle and an ending. If your piece does not have all three, you may have a delightful slice-of-life or vignette, but without the basic form, you don't have a short story.
Your beginning is very important. You have only a few words in which to capture your reader and make him want to continue reading. You need a "grabber," an opening sentence that gets your reader's attention immediately.
There are lots of opening lines so memorable that we know them by heart. Go for an opening that won't let your reader stop, a specific event or idea that makes them want to find out what is going to happen.
The middle is where you expand on your idea, describe your setting or characters and get the reader to want to know more. It's where you tell the story. It's where the mystery or crime happens, where we get to know the good guys and bad guys. Ideally, a short story will have one central idea or plot line and no more than three main characters.
The end - especially in a mystery story - is where you hit your reader hard with what happened. It's the place where they either say, "Wow! I didn't see that coming!" or "Yes, that's exactly it!" Twist stories are designed to surprise the reader with an ending that is unexpected but satisfying.
Where do you get your ideas?
I get them from everywhere. I read, eavesdrop on conversations, skim the newspaper, mis-hear what people say on television and play the what-if game. What if that guy in line at the supermarket buried his wife in the basement. What if that person the cops are looking for is your husband. What if you heard someone planning a crime. You get the idea!
One thing that really helps me is my Idea File. Every time I think of an idea that might be of use, I stash it in my idea file. Then, when I'm staring at The Blank Screen of Death, I can rummage through my file until something starts to grow.
Getting the story written
I think there is nothing like the BIC method: Behind In Chair. Sit down and do it - get out that idea file and start writing. Don't worry about perfection, just tell the story to yourself and write it as you go. There will be plenty of time to edit once you have the basics down. And you can always write that killer opening line after you write the rest of the story.
What to do with a finished story
1. Revise. It's never really done, is it?
2. Get a sound critique.
3. Submit.
Revise. Write the story, then go back and rewrite it until it makes sense. Then rewrite it until it sounds good. Then go back and rewrite it until it sounds great. You might have to rewrite a dozen times to get it the way you know it can be.
Get a sound critique. Kiss your mom, but listen to your Sisters. As much as your mom loves your work, remember, it's probably you she loves and your work only by extension.
Sisters in Crime, however, is an example of a good writing group - there are many chapters worldwide and an internet-based chapter for those who do not have a local live chapter. The Short Mystery Fiction Society is an online group devoted to mystery short stories, and offers a wonderful list of markets, as does Absolute Write, a forum for writers of all genres.
These groups have writers who will let you have the benefit of their expertise. Take advantage of sound feedback and good advice.
Submit. Your story needs to find readers, so you must find venues for it and begin the submission process. You will discover paying and non-paying markets, anthologies, ezines, print magazines, even your church bulletin and garden club newsletter. And don't forget non-fiction venues - you may find one that will publish fiction.
Here are a couple of excellent market listings for mystery short fiction:
http://www.shortmystery.net/markets.html
http://www.mysterywriters.org/?q=ApprovedPubList
Remember to become familiar with places in which you wish to publish and read each venue's submission guidelines carefully - the guidelines will tell you exactly what that market will publish (subject matter, length, etc.) and the exact format they want, too. Also listed in the guidelines will be pay and rights information.
Rejection - we all get it. So send your story somewhere else. Then work on your next story while you're waiting to hear. Keep writing, revising and submitting. And let us know when you get published!
KATE THORNTON lives near Los Angeles and has over 100 short stories in print. She writes mostly mysteries and science fiction, teaches a short story workshop and has a new book of short fiction out, INHUMAN CONDITION Tales of Mystery and Imagination.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Postcard Perps 2010: Fatal Family Reunion
Postcard Perps 2010: Fatal Family Reunion
The Challenge:
Old Ebenezer is making his will at last, and he wants one more look at all his descendents before picking his main beneficiary. Eccentric uncles, outrageous aunts, cussing cousins and a few obnoxious in-laws are gathered at a guest ranch for the first family reunion in forty years. Mix a bit of brotherly loathing and some seething sisters-in-law with plenty of plain old greed, and one or more of them will not survive the weekend. Your narrator might be a family member or an outsider, a do-gooding sleuth or a villain in mild-mannered disguise. Surprise us. Who dies, how, and why?
The Solution:
A spasm of pain shot through me. I gritted my teeth and looked out the big picture windows at the Cypress Hills. The great room of the Bar None Guest Ranch easily held all my estranged relatives-my older brother Silas, younger brother Harold, their wives and miscellaneous grown children-as well as my lawyer and my personal nurse. Only when I had the stabbing pain under control did I turn back to the assembled group.
Harold waved a dirty and crumpled piece of paper. "What'd you say, Ebeneezer? Winner takes all." Following my careful co-ordinates and map, Harold had managed to pull a metal container out of the roots of a twisted pine. Inside was the first page of my will, which Harold now held up in triumph.
Silas's beefy face turned red. "What kind of contest d'you call that?" He groaned and nursed his arm. "Sending us racing over the prairie horseback ... white-water rafting down a river for gawd's sake ... then wandering around in the back woods with the bears, grubbing for a blasted piece of paper. You trying to kill us?"
The thought had crossed my mind. If my useless brothers and their scruffy offspring hadn't survived the test I'd set them, it was no loss to the world. "You haven't changed a bit, Silas. Still a poor sport."
My sister-in-law Dora's shrill shot through the room like a dentist's drill. "Well somebody cheated." She shot a venomous look at Harold. "Besides, Silas didn't have enough time to learn that fancy GPS gizmo of yours."
I shifted in my wheelchair. "Seems fitting that my beneficiary learn how to use the device that made the family business a success."
Harold's wife Gwen snorted. "You were handed the business on a platter. Why your father chose to leave it all to you with nothing for Harold or Silas . . ."
I swivelled my head in her direction. Hard to believe she'd once been the belle of the Mount Royal debutantes. The only remnant of her beauty was the same musky perfume she'd used back then. "It was an obvious choice, my dear. Father recognized me as the son with enough brains and guts to build a small electronics company into the leading corporation it is today-which I accomplished with my GPS invention."
I motioned to my lawyer, who stepped forward and cleared his throat. "It's highly unusual, but my client has asked me to read out the contents of his will before his, uh, passing. In essence, he has allotted enough funds for his funeral, death duties, and creditors. The remainder is to be disbursed to the residuary beneficiary-the winner of the race. As it stands, I estimate this amount will amount to roughly, ah, one hundred dollars."
Later that night, after my nurse had settled me in bed, I savoured the eruption that had followed the lawyer's reading. Disbelief, outrage, shock and anger. I smiled in the dark. All the elements needed to stir up old resentments that had been simmering for forty years. The group reaction only confirmed my opinion-none of them had a head for business. Otherwise they'd have understood about the economy, high research and development costs, overextended credit, and eventual bankruptcy. Weaklings, all of them. Yet even I had a weakness-my penchant for TV reality shows. The Amazing Race had given me the idea for pitting my brothers and their families against each other in a survival of the fittest, winner take all. The joke was there wasn't much to take.
The house was quiet and dark. When the door to my room opened I could see a shadowy figure in the doorway. I lay still. The shadow slipped across the room, drawing nearer. There was a clunk followed by a muffled oath. The person, en route to the bed, had met up with the wheelchair. I smothered a laugh. Even as murderers my relatives were inept. As the figure bent over me, I caught the faint musky scent-the same perfume she'd used four decades ago during our secret affair. Gwen hadn't been too happy when I ended it. Her hurried marriage to Harold was just in time for the child that came along nine months later. I never believed her claim it was mine.
I wondered if they'd drawn straws and she'd won. Through my lowered lids I could see the pillow in her hands. Even a woman should be able to smother a feeble old man. As death neared I congratulated myself on my scheme. No lingering final months of pain and medication for me. I had brokered the last and best deal of my life.
The Challenge:
Old Ebenezer is making his will at last, and he wants one more look at all his descendents before picking his main beneficiary. Eccentric uncles, outrageous aunts, cussing cousins and a few obnoxious in-laws are gathered at a guest ranch for the first family reunion in forty years. Mix a bit of brotherly loathing and some seething sisters-in-law with plenty of plain old greed, and one or more of them will not survive the weekend. Your narrator might be a family member or an outsider, a do-gooding sleuth or a villain in mild-mannered disguise. Surprise us. Who dies, how, and why?
The Solution:
Head for Business
by Sherry Wilson McEwen
All Rights Reserved
by Sherry Wilson McEwen
All Rights Reserved
A spasm of pain shot through me. I gritted my teeth and looked out the big picture windows at the Cypress Hills. The great room of the Bar None Guest Ranch easily held all my estranged relatives-my older brother Silas, younger brother Harold, their wives and miscellaneous grown children-as well as my lawyer and my personal nurse. Only when I had the stabbing pain under control did I turn back to the assembled group.
Harold waved a dirty and crumpled piece of paper. "What'd you say, Ebeneezer? Winner takes all." Following my careful co-ordinates and map, Harold had managed to pull a metal container out of the roots of a twisted pine. Inside was the first page of my will, which Harold now held up in triumph.
Silas's beefy face turned red. "What kind of contest d'you call that?" He groaned and nursed his arm. "Sending us racing over the prairie horseback ... white-water rafting down a river for gawd's sake ... then wandering around in the back woods with the bears, grubbing for a blasted piece of paper. You trying to kill us?"
The thought had crossed my mind. If my useless brothers and their scruffy offspring hadn't survived the test I'd set them, it was no loss to the world. "You haven't changed a bit, Silas. Still a poor sport."
My sister-in-law Dora's shrill shot through the room like a dentist's drill. "Well somebody cheated." She shot a venomous look at Harold. "Besides, Silas didn't have enough time to learn that fancy GPS gizmo of yours."
I shifted in my wheelchair. "Seems fitting that my beneficiary learn how to use the device that made the family business a success."
Harold's wife Gwen snorted. "You were handed the business on a platter. Why your father chose to leave it all to you with nothing for Harold or Silas . . ."
I swivelled my head in her direction. Hard to believe she'd once been the belle of the Mount Royal debutantes. The only remnant of her beauty was the same musky perfume she'd used back then. "It was an obvious choice, my dear. Father recognized me as the son with enough brains and guts to build a small electronics company into the leading corporation it is today-which I accomplished with my GPS invention."
I motioned to my lawyer, who stepped forward and cleared his throat. "It's highly unusual, but my client has asked me to read out the contents of his will before his, uh, passing. In essence, he has allotted enough funds for his funeral, death duties, and creditors. The remainder is to be disbursed to the residuary beneficiary-the winner of the race. As it stands, I estimate this amount will amount to roughly, ah, one hundred dollars."
Later that night, after my nurse had settled me in bed, I savoured the eruption that had followed the lawyer's reading. Disbelief, outrage, shock and anger. I smiled in the dark. All the elements needed to stir up old resentments that had been simmering for forty years. The group reaction only confirmed my opinion-none of them had a head for business. Otherwise they'd have understood about the economy, high research and development costs, overextended credit, and eventual bankruptcy. Weaklings, all of them. Yet even I had a weakness-my penchant for TV reality shows. The Amazing Race had given me the idea for pitting my brothers and their families against each other in a survival of the fittest, winner take all. The joke was there wasn't much to take.
The house was quiet and dark. When the door to my room opened I could see a shadowy figure in the doorway. I lay still. The shadow slipped across the room, drawing nearer. There was a clunk followed by a muffled oath. The person, en route to the bed, had met up with the wheelchair. I smothered a laugh. Even as murderers my relatives were inept. As the figure bent over me, I caught the faint musky scent-the same perfume she'd used four decades ago during our secret affair. Gwen hadn't been too happy when I ended it. Her hurried marriage to Harold was just in time for the child that came along nine months later. I never believed her claim it was mine.
I wondered if they'd drawn straws and she'd won. Through my lowered lids I could see the pillow in her hands. Even a woman should be able to smother a feeble old man. As death neared I congratulated myself on my scheme. No lingering final months of pain and medication for me. I had brokered the last and best deal of my life.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
The 2010 Derringer Awards
The Short Mystery Fiction Society is pleased to announce the winners of the 2010 Derringer Awards for the categories of:
Flash Fiction (1,000 words or less) :
"And Here's to You, Mrs.Edwardson," by Hamilton Waymire.
This appeared in Big Pulp .
Short Fiction (1,001 to 4,000 words):
"Twas the Night" by Anita Page.
This appeared in the Gift of Murder anthology.
Long Fiction (4,001 to 8,000 words):
"Famous Last Words" by Doug Allyn.
This appeared in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine.
Novelette (8,001+ words):
"Julius Katz" by Dave Zeltserman.
This appeared in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine.
Golden Derringer (for lifetime contributions to the field short mystery fiction):
Lawrence Block
Stories eligible for the Derringers must have appeared in a recognized paper or online publication during the previous year. Panels of judges for each category complile a short list from among all nominees, from which member voting determines the winners.
Flash Fiction (1,000 words or less) :
"And Here's to You, Mrs.Edwardson," by Hamilton Waymire.
This appeared in Big Pulp .
Short Fiction (1,001 to 4,000 words):
"Twas the Night" by Anita Page.
This appeared in the Gift of Murder anthology.
Long Fiction (4,001 to 8,000 words):
"Famous Last Words" by Doug Allyn.
This appeared in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine.
Novelette (8,001+ words):
"Julius Katz" by Dave Zeltserman.
This appeared in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine.
Golden Derringer (for lifetime contributions to the field short mystery fiction):
Lawrence Block
Stories eligible for the Derringers must have appeared in a recognized paper or online publication during the previous year. Panels of judges for each category complile a short list from among all nominees, from which member voting determines the winners.
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