KAYLEE HODROJ
My First Experiment
A genre experiment in writing short stories; complete from proposal to reflection.
Proposal
To bring my Origin piece to the linguistic modes, this experiment will draw the Origin into the realm of fiction and short story. I aim to tell the character’s story by drawing richness and emotionality from my lived experiences. I hope to write something that validates and empowers others who have experienced poor self-esteem in young adulthood leading to less than stellar experiences; and to write it with a better ending than some of us receive in real life.
The story follows a young woman in the throes of passion with another yet can’t seem to escape the pain that something is not quite right. Through a narrative telling of key moments, the character will reach an arc that changes her view of the situation and, most importantly, view of herself. The story will end, much like the closing of a chapter, incomplete yet having transformed into a new plane of existence for the main character.
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If I am truly transparent, this experiment is an opportunity for me to work out in mythos some negative experiences I’ve had or witnessed. To this end, I intend to write the cautionary tale that a girl like me needed many years ago. My hope is that I can create something that is resonant and meaningful to others in the same way.
Through storytelling, I hope to connect the reader with their felt experience and the inner wisdom we share in mythos. It is my belief, and experience, that it can be extremely powerful to follow our inner compass without relying too much on the external world for direction. My hope is for this story to portray self-empowerment through showing an internal journey on finding one’s strength and direction.
Genre Research
Unlike reading novels, short stories must capture the reader’s mind in a split second. There simply isn’t enough time to gently lay out a narrative or long, winding plot or message. Instead, the craft of writing a great short story is to develop a potency and connection that draws the reader in. This is the essence of my findings (so far) into what makes a short story.
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Early in my research, I found a veritable compendium on the topic in a blog post entitled How to Write a Short Story: A Writer’s Ultimate Guide by Savannah Cordova. Short stories are all incredibly unique yet still follow a set of guidelines that define the genre. In general, these stories are complete within 1000-7000 words and feature only two to three characters or events. As like all stories, they carry these key elements: characters, conflict, and themes. What’s special, Cordova writes, is “a single line about a character [or event] in a short story must do the work of several pages in a novel.” It is this impact that defines the genre, every sentence must carry layers of meaning that connect key moments, conflicts, and themes with powerful delivery. Cordova advises that the author must meticulously craft every line, especially the first and last lines; concluding with the advice to “drop the mic and get out” (Cordova, litreactor.com).
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One wonderful reading sample provided in that guide was Ten Year Affair by Erin Somers. Reading it felt like a thrill thanks to its dynamic contrasts in language, setting, and characters and provocative language that kept me hooked. The narration didn’t bother to overtly explain what was happening, instead it took me on a ride. In this story, for example, the author didn’t clarify that certain thoughts from the main character weren’t literal. Instead, allowing it to build tension between the internal and external world which succinctly showed Cora’s unspoken obsession with Sam – like in this line, “during the hour-long drama that she watched with her husband, she was blowing Sam in the back seat of his car” (Somers). Similarly, I identified places where Somers left room for one to read between the lines. For example, in one pivotal point on Cora’s journey, the man she’s romantically obsessed with tells her how much he and his wife like her. In response, Cora’s internal dialogue says succinctly, “an extremely fucking likeable woman – that’s what the plaque could say” (Somers). In my annotations, I noted how clearly this line was a stand-in for deeper, yet overt thoughts and connections to “being unlovable” and her feeling of disappointment over the proverbial death of her fantasy. Overall, I’d describe Ten Year Affair as succinct, dreamy, detailed, excruciating, clenching, and magnetic. Reading it truly left a profound impression on my understanding of short stories and the feelings they can convey. By the end, I was prepared to give Somers a standing ovation as the final lines came to a natural end with a bang.
Stepping back from examples of final products, I found some helpful frameworks for developing and refining the plot, or bones, of the story. First, I’d like to address one well-known method called the Seven-Point story structure. I learned about this on Lancy McCall’s blog, in a post called How to Map Your Plot with the 7-Point Plot Structure, in which she provides a synthesis with Dan Well’s style of using the 7-point structure. For me, this method is easiest to understand through visual representations, so below are some visual tools from McCall’s post.
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As you can see, the chart and its labels very neatly guide us in identifying the highs and lows of the story. This structure can be seen as a remedy (or prevention) for a common issue she describes as “I write myself into a corner where I can’t see how I’m going to get where I need to be” (McCall). This is accomplished by treating each of the seven points as a subplot and outlining them individually. Then, once you have the key ideas lined up for each point, you can create a plot as visual representation to organize in what order things will occur and when they overlap or connect.
A second tool, Antonya Nelson’s 9-Step Framework for writing short stories, will be a fantastic resource in further developing the plot points and crafting the delivery. I learned about this in a wonderful post by Navneet Maini which serves as a guide for using Nelson’s Framework and provided helpful details on how to accomplish each step. For me, this resource was pivotal in my newfound understanding of the genre. While reading his summary, I noticed how the techniques described were applied in the writing by Erin Somers. Below is my adaptation of Maini’s guide to using the 9-Step Framework, much of its content is directly quoted so all rights to the author (Maini).


(image by Lancy McCall)

Works Cited
Cordova, Savannah. "How to Write a Short Story: A Writer’s Ultimate Guide." Lit Reactor, 6 June 2024, litreactor.com/columns/how-to-write-a-short-story.
Somers, Erin. Ten Year Affair. Joyland Magazine, 2021, joylandmagazine.com/fiction/ten-year-affair/.
McCall, Lancy. "How to Map Your Plot with the 7-Point Plot Structure." Lancy McCall, 31 May 2021, lancymccall.com/how-to-map-your-plot-with-the-7-point-plot-structure/.
Maini, Navneet. Antonya Nelson’s 9-step Framework for writing Short Stories. Medium, 2024, navneetsmaini.medium.com/antonya-nelsons-9-step-framework-for-writing-short-stories-30cd57ee69d8.
Project Map
In this section, I want to lay out rough sketches of possible plots, characters, settings, and other key concepts. This is intended to be a collection of ideas and drafts instead of certainties.
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7-Point Plot Structure
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Hook: YA party, drinking, ecstatic energy, trope of bedroom hookup; her guy bails after – she gets completely walked over and we see her codependent behavior, drunkenness, and low self-respect
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Plot Turn 1: A reason to travel (trip to see bf’s family?) tension around loading the car or first “real” fight during early part of ride
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Pinch 1: Car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, desert, verbal abuse, she poorly defends herself, maybe he lied about where they were headed (good metaphor)
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Midpoint: Got a lift from a tow truck into town, she has a moment of clarity in a grungy bathroom (reflects how gross/neglected she feels) while looking into mirror – finally alone. Makes some sort of promise to herself
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Pinch 2: Something happens that she feels totally stuck with him and in the bigger picture of her life. Maybe close to getting the car fixed but its delayed again and she must stay with this asshole, maybe he plays kiss ass, and we wonder if she wants to stay
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Plot turn 2: What’s the missing piece for her to escape this toxic relationship/experience? Some totem or item in her environment/backpack is found again and signals some change in her
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Resolution: She walks (?) away and finds an oasis, literal or metaphorical, finding herself and fully embracing the new version of herself, self-love, and respect
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Props and Symbols
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Broken down car: Symbolic of stuck-ness, disrepair, a foil for the relationship and initiates the breakdown scene of the relationship
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Mirror: Symbolic of neglecting self, ignoring gut feelings, return to self-love, change over time, from feeling trapped to feeling free
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Moon: Symbolic of reflecting, emotionality, love and pain, shadows
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Desert: Symbolic of being lost, emptiness, abandonment, confusion, hell
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Oasis: Symbolic of freedom, self-love, betterment, opportunity, the world opens up for her
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Grungy truck stop: Symbolic of irony, learning to be safe alone, opportunity, divine intervention
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Compass: Symbolic of being lost, wayfinding, inner guidance​​
Rough Sample
Dear Reader,
This sample was intentionally left messy and in my drafting style. I followed the 7-point plot structure and map made in previous section to further draft ideas for each plot point. Further, I did not create a sample for each section or fully flush out any that I did create. The intention here was to play around with key ideas discovered during my genre analysis, including the potency of each sentence, integrating props and settings as foil, etcetera, as opposed to polishing or completing any section. My hope is that I could return to this sample later with fresh eyes and see what worked to build a short story, as described, what was “eh”, and have pieces or iterations to build from.
Hook: Half-used tubes of Colgate and prescription bottles sat in silent protest as bare ass and sweat inched closer.
The sex wasn’t much cleaner than the vanity counter. Quick and cheap, like the off-brand ibuprofen he popped before heading back into to sea of pubescence.
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Plot Turn 1: Her luggage magically carried itself to the trunk. Thirty minutes had already passed since its low rumble pulled in the driveway. Cody was picking at his teeth in the little mirror.
Eyes angled down to the right.
He was too busy ogling the sweat on her breast to make eye contact on delivery, “hey beautiful.”
Pinch 1: “Nothing happened, you’re just imagining things.”//“Don’t even talk to me, you’re just an insecure bitch anyway”------His words scratching ricocheting chafing burning in her mind. Her steps barely deadened the sound of the broken record in her head. Each grain of sand scratching at her blood-stained ankle.
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Midpoint: Flies buzzed around the sickening yellow light as it flickered erratically. She resorted to clearing a face-sized layer of film off the mirror. It was still impossible to see herself clearly through the large blobs of unknown dried fluids.
She splashed tap water over her sunburnt brows. It felt good. Good, like the recoil of first touch with icy waters on a summer day. ---- A quarter. Payphone. Her heart strings were as tangled as the phone line. Curling up tighter as the ringtone dragged on.
Reflection
This writing experience was illuminating through its successes and failures. I learned so much about the short story genre, my current limitations in writing, and how to scale from ideation to delivery. One way that I know how much I’ve grown through this process is how angry and uncomfortable it made me. As a past instructor put it, “When you’re in the field experimenting with unknowns under the hot sun, you feel confused and angry as you try to understand what the hell it all means. As you push through the waves of wanting to give up, that confusion and anger turns to understanding and pleasure.”
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I felt confused by the preconceived notions of what the experiment should look like and how to “get it right.” Confused by the best way to translate my thoughts and genre analysis notes into well-articulated texts. Confused by myself and the slurry of changing ideas and motives around creating the map and sample of my short story. Overwhelmed by the emotions that I hadn’t expected to come up as I worked, especially around themes, the types of characters, and while writing the sample. Pressured by our timeline to completion, and subsequent (and mostly irrational) fear that “I could never work in a writing discipline because I can’t keep up with these deadlines!” Pressured to balance my writing desires for certain formats or styles with the needs of the assignment and class expectations. Exhausted by the amount of internal energy and resources it took to complete each step, or to go back and adjust certain writings to match changes made. Disappointed that what I created does not match the vision and high expectation I have for my public portfolio. Altogether, I felt tremendous anger and resistance as I worked through this experiment because it was hard!
Despite all my negative commentary here, this experiment was ultimately a great success. As outlined, I learned a lot about what it’s like to go through this process and overcame my first-timer stresses. While I wish I had gotten farther along in my sample, I am quite impressed with some of the material I came up with. For my level of experience, I feel this experiment effectively captured the potency of the genre, as Cordova characterized it.
The most upward traction I had was with conducting the genre analysis. At first, I compiled detailed annotations from the articles I read. It took a while to transpose these notes into the finished report. Now that is finished, however, I have a wonderful framework for building short stories. This strong set up gave me the necessary tools to dive into this challenging genre. Ultimately, I am grateful to have this genre analysis as a foundation for other experiments.