A handbook on story writing

Front matter

Cornell University Library

The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library.

There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text.

Preface

When in 19 lo I undertook the "teaching" of the short-story to a class of undergraduates at Hunter College, I found a dearth of books on the theory of story writing. There were Poe's examples and his body of criticism, from which help might be deduced; there was the pioneer "Philosophy" of Professor Matthews, and there were two or three texts whose chief valye lay in their exposition of the genre. After no great length of time a growing suspicion asserted itself that although my students could write unusually well, frequently with suggestion of charm and power, yet they were not always writing stories. They fell short of modern narrative requirement. As first aid they needed some formulation of the laws of structure. By a frankly academic and deductive process, that is to say, by study of the classic stories and the best current examples, I found obvious underlying principles, so obvious, my first reaction was that nobody had written them down because of their obviousness. But I gave them to my students, with happy results in improvement of manuscripts. The writers learned to direct their energies, with a diminution of diffuseness, to the accomplishment of stronger stories.

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In the succeeding two or three years texts poured forth, as a glance at the appended bibliography (page 321) will inform the reader. Many of these stimulated the student; most of them in one respect or other helped the teacher. Yet about the time, 1 9 13, I took charge of the story writing course in Extension Teaching, Columbia University, I could find no volume which aided the amateur definitely in construction. Here, again, the primary and fundamental laws of structure as I had evolved them, proved useful to the men and women bent on learning the art of the short-story with an eye to publication. Their stories in The Atlantic, Scribner's, The Century, The Metropolitan, Everybody's and a number of minor publications prove that they have acquired a degree of expertness. And this fact leads me to comment on a division of opinion which has within recent years, and in the extended vogue of the short-story, found proclamation. One camp asserts that the short-story has no laws of technique, — a statement made, without exception, by those who have not set themselves to learn it. Members of the opposite camp declare that technique or "formula" has deadened the story. Truth would seem to lie between these extremes. The first opinion needs no comment; but It may be observed that the lover of fiction who demands only something under ten thousand words that is "interesting" will be the first to find Interest faltering, though he may not know why. If the structure Is Inadequate to sup-

PREFACE vii

port the warp and woof of story material. The second camp is right in this respect : the story is so much a matter of form it can be learned. Conceivably it can be learned by persons who are endowed with no supreme literary gift. There are examples of best literature which are not short-stories; there are stories which are not literature. A great era of advertising made possible, if it did not demand, more magazines and with them the cheap story. (But I must not fail to state that the price frequently has nothing to do with the value of the story for which the price is paid.) The unworthy examples exist by virtue of the worthier. Compare the stories of Blackwood's of seventy years ago with those of the present day, or compare the short-stories of the latter nineteenth century with those of the present, and you can come to one conclusion only: this is the golden age of short-story literature.

It will be perceived that wherever possible I discuss story technique in terms of the drama, and I do so because the two terms, story and drama, are so closely interlocked each can best be apprehended through comparison with the other. Reciprocal characterisation serves to convey the interdependence of types. And in noticing the relations between these type forms, I am moved to ask that terminology in this volume be taken not as iron bound or hard and fast. As Mr. Henry James has said in his "Art of Fiction," "People often talk of these things [description, dialogue, incident, etc.] as if they had a kind vui PREFACE

of internecine distinctness, instead of melting into each other at every breath, and being intimately associated parts of one general effort of expression." Yet it remains true that analysis reveals such varied elements in composition, and also true that the young writer or the amateur synthesises better if he is aware they exist. Fusion, he must learn, occurs when the spark of life kindles the elements into a glowing whole.

Within the confines of this book I have indicated By examples chosen to illustrate one thing or another those authors who are the masters. Their art has had the adequate purpose of representing the workings of life, and it has had the beneficent effect of entertaining. And if it satisfies in these two particulars, it satisfies the chief requirements of the art of fiction.

I desire to express my obligations and gratitude to my assistant Miss Shirley V. Long for reading the chapters of the book and giving valuable suggestions. Thanks and acknowledgments are due certain authors and publishers for permission to quote from works by way of Ulustrating and emphasising definite technical features. To Messrs. Harper and Brothers I am indebted for the passage from "The Revolt of 'Mother' " ("A New England Xun and Other Stories," by Mary E. Wilkins, copyright, 1891), and also that from "At Home to His Friends" ("Seventeen," by Booth Tarkington, copyright, 1915, 1916, by the Metropolitan Magazine

PREFACE ix

Company) ; to the George H. Doran Company for the paragraph from Irvin Cobb's "Local Color" (Copyright, 1916, by George H. Doran Company) ; to the John Lane Company for the selection from Neil Lyons's "Six-penny Pieces" (Third edition, 19 14) ; to Messrs. Doubleday, Page and Company for the brief selections from Rudyard Kipling's "A Second-Rate Woman" ("Under the Deodars," edition, 1913), and "Mary Postgate" ("A Diversity of Creatures," copyright, 1917), for the longer passages from O. Henry's "The Whirligig of Life" ("Whirligigs"), "The Furnished Room" ("The Four Million"), and "Proof of the Pudding" ("Strictly Business"), all from the Authorised Edition of O. Henry's works, and for the quotation from Joseph Conrad's "The Art of Writing" (1914) ; to Charles Scribner's Sons for citations from Henry James's Prefaces (Collected Works, copyright, 1909), and from Henry Van Dyke's Preface to "The Ruling Passion," copyright, 1901; from Robert Louis Stevenson's "Weir of Hermiston," copyright, 1896) ; and from "Plain Fin, Paper Hanger" ("The Under Dog," copyright, 1903; to E. P. Dutton and Company, and to Mr. Harold Paget for the paragraphs from Leonard Merrick's "The Tragedy of a Comic Song" ("Whispers about Women," copyright, 19 12, by Mitchell Kennerley) ; to the Ridgway Company for the selection from Eleanor Hallowell Abbott's "The Mean Little Town"; to the Curtis Publishing Company for the

X PREFACE

passage from Norman Duncan's "The Last Shot in the Locker," and to the Fleming H. Revell Company for the same passage which occurs, with certain changes, in "Billy Topsail, M. D.," copyright, 1916.

B. C. W.

New York City,

September 5, 19 17.

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I Definitions and Characterisations . . i

II The Inception of the Story .... 21

Chapter I

Difficulty in defining this form of fiction; what the short story is not ; anecdote, incident, tale, novel, sketch ; various definitions quoted; sifting of these definitions; the essentials of the short-story; essentials embodied in a working definition; discussion of this definition; art in general and in the short-story; value of struggle emphasised by a comparison of th" short-story and the drama; exercises.

What is a short-story? In defining the term, there is the temptation to limit it so closely as to exclude narratives which may be regarded properly as falling under this class of fiction; or there is the corresponding danger of constructing too inclusive a definition. In the second place,^ the short-story is

* Professor Baldwin has already pointed out, in his Preface to "American Short-Stories,'' that Poe's "Berenice" (1835) represents the arrival of the form in the English language. "Mateo Falcone" (1S29) antedates Poe's story by half a dozen years.

a comparatively recent development, and like all young organisms, it is in process of growth, if not of evolution; hence, any determining of its status must be tentative. Again, there are many kinds of short-stories. And in proportion as the critic prefers, however catholic his taste, one class to another, he drifts toward that class as his ideal. Or, guarding against his individual preference, he chooses to characterise rather than to define.

At the outset, therefore, let us consider the characteristics from which we may formulate a working definition of this genre, to-day the chosen medium of the fiction writer.

First, then, by comparing the short-story with closely related forms, the student should learn what it is not. From the monograph of Professor Brander Matthews,^ to the most recent texts, opinions agree that the short-story is not a novel, a condensed novel, or a novelette. Its plot is less complex, and it creates a more unified impression. Nor is it a sketch, for in a sketch nothing may happen ; a sketch may be of still life only. It is not an anecdote ; for the anecdote presents a situation and one brief dramatic instant. It is not a mere Incident ; ^ for the Incident concerns itself with one line of interest; is usually briefer; and, the best test, is of less moment or weight than the short-story. It Is not a

' "The Philosophy of the Short-Story," Longmans, Green, and Co., 1901. Written in 1884, revised later. ° Capitalised for sake of distinction. See page 50.

tale ; for the tale may lack proportion, may show no progressive heightening, no nice adjustment to scale,* and it may fail to produce a single emotional effect. Yet it is clear that the short-story may approach in length, if in no other particular, the novelette. One artist of the brush may, because of his individual manner, lay on twice as many strokes as another artist painting the same subject. And whether made in five hundred or five thousand strokes, the finished picture may fill a 2 x 3 frame. The present writer advises students not to suffer bewilderment from such appallingly definite statements as, "I've material for a three thousand word story." A two thousand word O. Henry story would become one of ten thousand for Henry James. For example, Henry James's "The Turn of the Screw" and Edith Wharton's "Ethan Frome" are long short-stories. Obviously, also, the sketch or vignette shades gradually into the short-story. Kipling's "The City of Dreadful Night" is a sketch, — a series of pictures observed in a night walk. But Hawthorne's "Wakefield," also a sketch, co-ordinates action toward one denouement; Professor Matthews's "In a Hansom," though labelled "vignette," possesses unmistakable story value. The word "tale" particularly annoys one who would separate it definitively from the short-story. Here, a critic declares emphatically that "Rip Van Winkle" is a short-story; there, another rules it out. Irving's Tales at least have place in the de-

* See Professor Baldwin's Preface, op. cit velopment of the modern form. He recognised that the "sketch" or the "short tale" must be written word for word more carefully than the longer story : "The author must be continually piquant; woe to him if he makes an awkward sentence or writes a stupid page." ^ He recognised, that is, the "nicety of execution." But he approached the short-story only by way of unconscious evolution. In the main, the same thing is true of Hawthorne, who, however, progressed further. He wrote a few short-stories which, though perfect specimens, are not typical examples of his "tales." "Rappaccini's Daughter" takes high rank as a short-story, but "Lady Eleanore's Mantle" must be classed as a tale, strongly infused with fancifully didactic allegory. The evolution of the short-story shows that the tale is its progenitor. Boccaccio's "Decameron" and Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales" are the great mediaeval predecessors. Apart, however, from the historical significance and its indication of type, the word "tale" is quite frequently used by contemporary writers as synonymous with short-story. Edith Wharton's "Tales of Men and Ghosts" is an illustration of the word used inclusively; for the volume contains examples of both types.

Even the anecdote may assume the form of the short-story, though with doubtful success. O. Henry's "A Lickpenny Lover" and "The Girl and

' See Irving's Letter to Henry BrevoorL "The Life and Letters of Washington Irving," by P. M. Irving, Vol. II, page 327.

the Habit" are instances of the anecdotal short-story, which, by no means admirable, yet illustrate the fact that the anecdote may be expanded into the longer form. And, finally, the Incident, as its subject matter becomes of greater weight or its treatment more elaborate, may be coalescent with the short-story.

Not identical with any of these forms, the short-story is separated from them by imperceptible dividing lines. And just as it recedes to one or another of the allied types, so it departs from its own ideal. In order to determine this ideal, let us examine the ground generally accepted as the province of the short-story. And let us follow an approximate historical order.

Professor Matthews, in his essay, says: "An idea logically developed by one possessing the sense of form and the gift of style is what we look for in a short-story." And he adds presently, "The short-story is nothing if there is no story to tell," — ^thus laying emphasis upon plot. He insists also upon neatness of structure and polish of execution. "The construction must always be logical, adequate, harmonious." Elsewhere he says, " — ^the short-story must do one thing only and it must do this completely and perfectly; it must not loiter or digress, it must have unity of action, unity of temper, unity of tone, unity of colour, unity of effect; and it must vigilantly exclude everything that might interfere with its singleness of intention." Totality of effect had been practised by Poe in his story writing; it had been advocated by him as a poetic ideal in his "Philosophy of Composition."

From Poe's theory, Professor Matthews evolved in part his philosophy, upon which a number of recent writers have based their definitions.® , Mr. Charles Barrett declares that the term short-story "is properly used only when it means a short prose narrative, which presents artistically a bit of real life; the primary object of which is to amuse." To this he adds other qualifications.

Professor W. B. Pitkin regards the short-story as a "fusion of two artistic ideals, the one American, the other French." The American ideal is "The Single Effect." The French ideal is the "Dramatic Effect." He defines it accordingly, "The short story is therefore a narrative drama with a single effect."

Mr. J. B. Esenwein gives these essentials: I. Singleness of impression. 2. A well-defined plot. 3. A dominant incident. 4. A dominant character. 5. A complication and its resolution. _31r. Carl Grabo says, "A short-story aims at a single effect: the writer, dominated by a single emotion, endeavors so to devise his story as to convey this and arouse an echo of it in his readers."

Another text offers this definition: "The short story is a narrative producing a single emotional Im-

° See Bibliography, page 321, ff., for works by these authors and others.

pression by means of sustained emphasis on a single climactic incident or situation." ''

An editorial in The Metropolitan ^ gives a practical ideal: " — to make a real impression without taking pages to accomplish it in, to reach the heart in a human way, — to inspire in the reader by the use of not more than two or three thousand words a genuine emotion of love, awe, or pity," — to do this is the business of the short-story writer. Sincerity is enjoined, a quality which should be obtained by direct observation.

Mr. T. L. Masson, in his introduction to "Short Stories from 'Life,' " emphasises the value of struggle, the giving to the reader a definite sensation, and the conveyance of an Idea larger than the story Itself.

Features the definitions have In common are these : I. The short-story Is a prose narrative. 2. It must make one Impression or effect. 3. It deals chiefly with one Incident or situation. 4. It shows increasing recognition of the dramatic element. The academic Ideal emphasises form; the publisher's ideal emphasises the human appeal, to which the reader reacts emotionally.

In view of the accepted Ideals I justify the definition: The short-story Is a narrative artistically presenting characters In a struggle or complication which has a definite outcome. If the action occurs In a brief time and in a closely circumscribed space,

'"The Modern Short-Story," Notestein and Dunn. 'August, 1914.

the story approaches the extreme or ultimate type form. "The Sire de Maletroit's Door," by Stevenson; "Swept and Garnished," by Kipling; "The Idiot," by Arnold Bennett; "The Three Strangers," by Thomas Hardy, — these narratives, in their close limitation of time and place, consciously or unconsciously obey the laws of the "Greek Unities."

In order to effect a fuller and clearer understanding, let us examine the definition just laid down. "Narrative" needs no explanation. But it should be repeated that although the action of the short-story is told, not presented, yet modern writers usually prefer to let the telling unfold itself as fully as possible through the characters themselves; prefer. In short, to approach the dramatic form. The popularity of Fannie Hurst's stories, for example, owes itself in large measure to the skill with which she makes the characters convey the action.^ "Artistically presenting," the next phrase In the definition, offers opportunity for calling to the attention of the student something of the principle underlying all

'Compare The Boston Transcript, January 8, 1916: "I must affirm once more the genuine literary art of Fannie Hurst. The absolute fidelity of her dialogue to life and its revealing spirit . . - seem to me to assure her permanence in her best literary work." The author, Mr. E. J. O'Brien, places three of her stories (appearing in 1915) on his "honour roll" of ninety-on,e. These were chosen from 2200 stories read and analysed. He also includes two of her stories in "The Best Fifty Short Stories of 1916." See Bookman, February, 1917. Miss Hurst's power is one point, at least, on which the present writer does not differ from Mr. O'Brien.

fiction. "What is art?" has been asked as many times as that other sphinx question, "What is truth?" It would be disproportionate, if not futile, here to enter upon a formal discussion of art; but it will be helpful to summarise its outstanding characteristics. Art, then, is primarily human skill versus nature. Art is an imitation,^" which succeeds by representation, by typifying, rather than by selecting the too unusual object or event from life. "This must be put into a story," the novice says; "this extraordinary situation is too good to lose." Amateurs need constant warning against this pitfall. Editor and teacher and critic are used to hearing, "You say my story lacks verisimilitude, that the occurrence is too unusual. But I tell you, it really happened!" That the account is from life makes no difference, or rather may make the difference that is so much thd worse for fiction. It may have happened in life; it probably would not "happen" in fiction. For fiction should represent the typical, not the exaggerated or the bizarre. The artist in Henry James's "The Real Thing" comments on his preference for the

^" " 'Art imitates Nature,' says Aristotle, in a phrase that has been much misunderstood. It has been taken to mean that art is a copy or reproduction of natural objects. But by 'Nature' Aristotle never means the outside world of created things, he means rather creative force, what produces, not what has been produced. We might almost translate the Greek phrase, 'Art, like Nature, creates things,' 'Art acts like Nature in producing things.' These things are, first and foremost, human things, human action." — "Ancient Art and Ritual," by Jane Ellen Harrison, LL.D., Litt.D., Henry Holt and Company, London, 1913.

lo A HANDBOOK ON STORY WRITING

"represented subject over the real one: the defect of the real one was so apt to be a lack of representation. I liked things that appeared; then one was sure." In this thematic narrative, the author entertainingly and convincingly presents the defect of the real. Major and Mrs. Monarch, "the real thing" socially, failed to represent the society type, whereas Miss Churm the Cockney model and Oronte the orange vendor succeeded.

Do not suppose that a good real story will make a good fiction story. Do not make the similar error of thinking a slavish copy will produce in fiction the effect corresponding to that produced by the original in actuality. "The beginner must take to heart the truth that a close copy of life may fail to represent life. Within his own world, the writer seeks to imitate. That world is governed by laws with which he must be familiar, the operations of which he must understand, if under their dominance he would successfully represent. The sequence of details, for example, in a successful story may be different from the sequence in real life. The writer has worked out a problem in arrangement with a view to correct effect." ^^

"Life, as it happens, fails often to have a recognisable pattern, like the orderly things called stories . . . for you may bleed your heart out and finally die of the wound, and yet the pain of which you die, the drama which caused your heart to " "Short Stories in the Making," R. W. Neal, page 151.

DEFINITIONS AND CHARACTERISATIONS ii

bleed, will have had neither logical beginning nor definite end, and in the whole course of it, though it has been life and death to you, there will have been none of those first aids to the reader — suspense, dramatic contrast, or plot. You have suffered and died, but It hasn't made a story." ^^

These two paragraphs emphasise that art must be representative, that it is life plus something more. Another requisite of artistic work is that it must move the emotions. As science transmits knowledge, art is a human activity transmitting feelings. Art transmutes the truths of science from the region of perception to the region of emotion. The artistic finished statue of a child brings, a rush of tenderness from the observer ; the sweep of opera exalts to high ecstasy the sensitive soul; the actor forces laughter or tears. "It [the drama] consists of passion, which gives the actor his opportunity; and that passion must progressively increase, or the actor, as the piece proceeded, would be unable to carry the audience from a lower to a higher pitch of interest and emotion." ^* If the reader of the short-story Is held in suspense; if he is awed, thrilled, moved to tears, smiles or laughter, then for him the author Is an artist. The effect of the short-story is measured always by the emotional reaction. Emotions are governed by laws; an understanding of these laws will aid a writer in his appeal to the emotions. The process

'' Mary Heaton Vorse, in "A Child's Heart." " "A Humble Remonstrance," R. L. Stevenson.

is not so simple, not so wooden, as the machinery of puppet moving, but the mechanism is not the less necessary.

"Fiction — if it at all aspires to be art — appeals to temperament," says Joseph Conrad in "The Art of Writing." "And, in truth it must be, like painting, like music, like all art, the appeal of one temperament to all the other innumerable temperaments whose subtle and resistless power endows passing events with their true meaning, and creates the moral, the emotional atmosphere of the place and time. Such an appeal to be effective must be an impression conveyed through the senses; and, in fact, it cannot be made in any other way, because temperament, whether individual or collective, is not amenable to persuasion. All art, therefore, appeals primarily to the senses, and the artistic aim when expressing itself in written words must also make its appeal through the senses, if its high desire is to reach the secret spring of responsive emotions. It must strenuously aspire to the plasticity of sculpture, to the colour of painting, and to the magic suggestiveness of music — which is the art of arts. . . ."

Art, then, is representative, and it appeals to the senses. Writers, dramatists, sculptors, musicians, artists of the brush — all agree on these two essentials. Perhaps the ultimate distinction between the artist and the artisan lies in the principle of suggestion. The distinctive genius of Kipling flashes out in a daring economy, by which he conveys much more than his sentence or paragraph says. This principle of suggestion may so operate as to secure effective emotional reaction; it may stop short at titillating the reader's fancy, or galvanising his attention. Its use means a saving to the reader of energy required to grasp or visualise the object or act. In "Mary Postgate," for example, occurs an episode of bombdropping. After the explosion, Mary and Nurse Eden heard

"a child's shriek, dying into a wail. . . . Nurse Eden snatched up a sheet drying before the fire, ran out, lifted something from the ground, and flung the sheet round it. The sheet turned scarlet, and half her uniform, too, as she bore the load into the kitchen. It was little Edna Gerritt, aged nine, whom Mary had known since her baby days.

" 'Am I hurted bad ?' Edna asked, and died between Nurse Eden's dripping hands. The sheet fell aside, and for an instant, before she could shut her eyes, Mary saw the ripped and shredded body."

In this swiftly moving passage, restraint and suggestion create for Kipling his emotional effect. When he writes of a snake folding itself in oozy triangles, he shocks attentioi. by the vivid picture. When he says, in "Captains Courageous," that Harvey saw a long line of portholes flash past, he suggests the rapidity and the length of the ocean liner in a way to dazzle the reader, and to compel the critic's admiration for his lean economy.

Of the power of suggestion George Meredith writes illustratively in the early pages of "The Amazing Marriage" : "The man Charles Dump is no more attractive to me than a lump of clay. How could he be? But suppose I took up the lump and told you that there where I found it, that lump of clay had been rolled over and flung of by the left wheel of the prophet's Chariot of Fire before it mounted aloft and disappeared in the heavens above, you would examine it and cherish it and have the scene present with you, you may be sure ; and magnificent descriptions would not be one-half so persuasive. And that is what we call, in my profession, Art, if you please."

Art is an imitation which so represents life as to affect the reader's emotions. The greater the writer's skill in suggestion, the more economically, and hence vividly, will he produce his representation.

The definition further makes use of the plural "characters." It would appear that a short-story must contain at least two characters, for otherwise there would be no struggle. But it should be remembered that in some stories characteristics or traits take the place of the inclusive term, "characters." For example, critics have an avowed preference for "Markhelm," wherein the main struggle Is between Markheim's conscience and his inclination to evil.

In discussing the phrase "struggle or complication," let us make a momentary comparison of the short-story with the drama." Any student of the play knows that there is no play without a plot characterised by a struggle. "A good serious play must therefore be founded on one of the passionate cruces of life, where duty and inclination come nobly to the grapple. "^^ This struggle may have its modifications, — there may be a chase, purely physical; there may be a difficulty to overcome, an obstacle to remove, a mystery to solve. In its highest phase, the conflict is waged between intellects, or between the opposing parts of one man's intellect. Hamlet is at odds with himself, as with the world. If now to the essential struggle is added entanglement, the interest of the play is increased. The relations of Hamlet and Ophelia, for example, form one line of interest which will inevitably have bearing on the main line of interest, Hamlet's struggle to be revenged. Hamlet's relations to the Queen will likewise be a cause of entanglement. Besides these obvious relations there are others, all of which unite in making the play a masterpiece of entanglement as well as one of intense moral struggle. In "A Half Hour," a Barrie tour de force, the struggle is from start to finish in the mind of Lillian Garson; but if there were not the en-

" "When Aristotle, in his 'Poetics,' undertook to lay down the principles by which tragedy ought to be constructed, he gave the common and essential principles for the construction of all fiction — especially for the construction of the short-story." Melville Davisson Post, in "The Blight"