by Lindsey Brackett @LindsBrac

The first time I heard about flash fiction was at my first BRMCWC. I was unpublished, unknown, and unaware of how much I didn’t know about writing and publishing. But a story in 1000 words or less? I knew I could do that. Mostly because I began this career as a blogger and newspaper columnist and 1000 words was twice that limit. 

Plus, back then I could write 1000 words during naptime and actually feel like I’d accomplished something that day other than laundry, dishes, and the monotony of young motherhood. 

(Yes, I do miss those days. Especially now when I stare down the 80K work-in-progress and realize I have to edit all that or when my teenager asks me for car keys. Bring back naptime and minutia, please.)

I fell in love with flash fiction because it is not like writing a novel. Obviously, since you only have 1000 words in which to tell the story. 

With flash fiction, the tactics of subplots, POV shifts, and fantasy world building can’t always happen effectively. As an editor, I encourage writers to commit to one point of view, one internal and/or external conflict, and minimal secondary characters. Instead of the whole photo album, drop your readers into a moment—a snapshot. 

But unlike still photos, flash fiction is not stagnant. The story must move and something must happen. Your protagonist must have an obstacle to overcome and a sense of resolution at the end. 

This moment can be as high stakes as diffusing a bomb to save the love interest—or as simple as an older couple rediscovering each other during a routine outing. When writing flash fiction, or truly any story for that matter, start with your conflict. What does your character want or need? What is standing in their way? 

Once for a flash fiction challenge, I wrote a story about an overwhelmed mother and her passive husband. Because the conflict had to be related to the challenge—ghost story, old well, horse saddle—I set them on a crumbling farm with an old dry well. When the external conflict arises, a child falls down the well shaft, and the tension in their marriage is heightened because he’s not there to help her. I could build a whole novel from these characters, but if I did, I would lose the tautness this story’s brevity held. The greatest conflict is this one moment—how she (and the ghost of a horse) handled the situation. This was not a story about a marriage’s demise or reconciliation. It was a story about how a mother finds her strength. 

When you write flash fiction, find the one conflict that will empower, destroy, or awaken your character. Then use that one pinnacle moment and show how they overcome. 

I promise, when you’re done, you’ll have a story—with less words and more impact.

Lindsey P. Brackett writes southern fiction infused with her rural Georgia upbringing and Lowcountry roots. Her debut novel, Still Waters, released in 2017 and was named the 2018 Selah Book of the Year. Her latest novel, The Bridge Between, released in 2019. Recently she launched the podcast, A Rough Draft Life, with novelist Kristi Ann Hunter. Someday she hopes to balance motherhood and writing full-time. Until then, she’s very grateful for her public school system.

Connect with Lindsey and get her free novella, Magnolia Mistletoe with newsletter signup at lindseypbrackett.com or on Instagram @lindseypbrackett.