Moving Forwards, Back-to-Front

Last night, at Brookline Booksmith, I had the honour of talking about and reading my work alongside Stace Budzko, Steve Almond and Rusty Barnes, with introductions by Tara Masih and Abigail Beckel of "Rose Metal Press".  To start out, I read Stace's wonderful exercise prompt aloud.  (Here it is, quoted from The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Writing Flash Fiction):

"In order to fully understand and appreciate characters in conflict, sometimes we have to push REWIND.  Write a story that begins at the end of the action and moves backward.  What was the flashpoint that initiated the event?  What insights or observations did the characters initially have?  How might their lives have changed if they went in another direction?  One thousand words or less."

Filthy Little things was my response to this piece.  (It's actually published on editor Tara Masih's site, rather than in the Field Guide).  It would never have been written if not for the brilliant prompt above.

I thought it might be fun to share with you, here, what the backwards story awoke in me.  I admit, when Stace first offered me this particular challenge, I gave a large and fearful snort!  I know, from teaching students text-level literacy, one of the first things we learn is that a story works forwards (beginning - middle - end).  So engrained is this "formula" that we bring it to every piece - a template, if you will, to help us interpret.  Yet the truth of the matter is that, in life, we often work backwards.  We reflect, search for answers in the mirror of our pasts, saying "How did I get here?  Well, last Thursday, I did this... last year, I did that... but maybe all this started when I was five..."  Whether with friends, doctors or therapists, our stories must often be unravelled: solved from a root we must first locate.

It goes without saying that, in the backwards story, the linguistic signposts must be clear.  "Before", "After", or "Way before that..." are a few ways of guiding our readers to understand the temporal rules.  But what was more significant for me within this process was this question:  Which stories are best told backwards?  I sensed that, if I gleaned the answer, the signposting would come more easily.  In fact, that's exactly what happened.

In my own life, I've suffered from a phobia of moths that began in my early years.  I had to work backwards to solve the puzzle of this, and see finally that those moths were symbolic of a deeper fear.  It seemed so fitting to draw on this story in a fictional account -- why wouldn't I tell it backwards?  See, that's how I found my own answers.  And of course, the things that pain us (when it's time for us to share them) can make for the most powerful art.

After I'd found my story, I had to work out why it would be told.  The answer came quickly:  My narrator wanted to explain to a former lover why her behaviour may have seemed contradictory; and also reveal that her part in their relationship was based on something more complex than "kindness" and "cruelty".

The "backwards story" was the most powerful flash form I've ever worked with.  It was also the most challenging.  The depth of insight it gives both writer and reader is hugely worthwhile, I argue.  

Wait for it.  Here comes the plug...

The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Writing Flash Fiction contains Stace's wonderful meta-fiction "Hanging Fire: A Meta-Narrative on Flash Fiction", along with a great example of the backwards story by Anna Geneva Renz.  Among the other treasures in this stellar book are Randall Brown's "Making Flash Count" and "You and the Piano Bench" by Pamela Painter, not to mention a stunning introduction on the history and cultural context of the short-short by editor Tara Masih.

Comments

[Kathleen Rooney]

Thanks for reading in the Field Guide launch, Sue. I wish I could have been there, too, to hear you.

[Sue]

Thank you, Kathleen. It was an honour. The evening was wonderful and I'm so enjoying the book! Wish you could have been there too. Thanks for checking out my blog!

[Randall Brown]

Thanks, so much for the kind words about "Making Flash Count." I really enjoyed your "Filthy Little Things." Quite fine!

[Sue]

It's my absolute pleasure, truly. And I'm so flattered you enjoyed "Filthy Little Things"! Your words about flash often ending with an "emergent 'precious thing'" (quoting Baxter) slayed me. I actually quoted you on this at the evening itself, when answering audience questions. I even remember the Sesame Street story from when I was a child - the perfect example!