Reading · Shawn MC: A Work In Progress

It’s been a few months since I’ve posted anything here, I’ve spent that time reading a whole lot of stories and books from my ever growing reading list. This included reading lots of George Saunders, some Joseph Conrad, Denis Johnson, and Steve Toltz, among other things that caught my eye. I read mostly paperback and hardcover books, getting off screens for long stretches is a wonderful thing.

Below is a short story I wrote as part of the 50/200 word story writing exercise suggested by George Saunders on his Story Club here:

Set a timer for 45 minutes.
Write a 200-word story. But (and here’s the trick), it has to be exactly 200 words long (not 199, not 200) and you can only use 50 unique words in the process.
You’ll figure out how to keep track of your word count. One way is to just keep a running list on another page. So, if you write, “The rain in Spain…” your list will look like this:
The
rain
in
Spain

I really enjoyed this exercise, the explicit constraints forced me to focus on each sentence and word choice. All of the readings and writing exercises I’ve done so far this year came into play as I wrote. I started writing with no specific story or agenda in mind. As the words and sentences piled up I kept returning to what was there already, and after about a half hour the story emerged on it’s own. It was not at all what I would have expected. I only went back and changed one word once I reached the 50/200 word constraints, which helped pull the early sentences into what the story became.

After you read this I have a couple questions for you the reader:

What should the title of this story be?
Which word do you think was added as a replacement after I finished?

Please answer in the comments, if anyone gets the second question right I’ll share the full backstory on how I started and share the original word choice (which was replaced).

Without further ado here’s my 50/200 word story, my first ever published in this newsletter:

The bright reflection from the white sheet caught my eyes. The light gleaming from the screen, bright strips of white light sliding to the right as I turn. I caught the reflection, the bright white reflection, through the screen, as I turn to face the sliding door. White spots cover the sliding door, blinding my eyes to the bright sheet reflection, now caught in the gleaming screen. I face the sliding door, my eyes caught in the light, sliding right as I move, the bright white sheet reflection drawing me forward, toward the screen door, her face replacing the reflection.

The bright reflection from the white sheet gleamed in her eyes, bright spots caught, drawing me toward her, pulling me right through the sliding light. Her bright face caught in the reflection, the bright white reflection, through the screen, as I turn away. My hands cover my face from the light, from the bright reflection in her eyes, from the white sheet burning holes in me, from her gleaming, tear stained cheeks. My hands drop and I see his shadow reflection in the bright white sheet. I turn to face her as I accept his stillness, his light now lost.

Worry Free Writing

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