On Short Stories

As a high school student, I used to view short stories as an easy homework assignment.

And as the years wore on, I came to have a deep seated disrespect for short stories.

I just thought the idea of trying to pack so many details and so many ideas into an abridged volume was kind of unfair to the reader, and a pure cop out for the writer.

But lately, I've been indulging in the genre, and I actually find it quite refreshing. I have written a lot of things in my life, but a short story that I wrote about a month ago is without question the thing that I am most proud of in my literary career.

It hasn't been published. It hasn't been reviewed. Hell, it hasn't even left the Microsoft Word document on my laptop. But it's from my heart, not from my gut (which is where all of my previous work has stemmed from).

It took me about an hour to write, as opposed to many hours, or even days overall in the past for longer works.

It deals with love and loss. Oh, and ducks.

Yes, I might be going soft. But I'm strangely okay with that. As long as I'm inspired, I'm happy.

And a happy me is a content me. And that's a "me" that everyone can get behind.

So I'll keep the short literary contributions coming, because they might be the thing that ends up defining me...much to the chagrin of yours truly circa 2003.