The Short Story Pages

I think that most writers (whether they admit it or not) have a short story or two either collecting dust in a closet or sitting on a shelf, helplessly crying, "Help! Rework me! Turn me into that novel you promised to write!" The short story for the novelist is like the 5K practice run for the marathon runner. It's the genre that begs to be used, abused, then discarded for "bigger and better things".

The short story of course, as a means of artistic expression, has seen better days. There was a time when a writer could almost support himself, plying the magazine trade with any number of short stories. They were in demand. There was a market out there! Of course, that was in the days before television. Yes, I know, as far as most of you out there in cyberspace would have us believe, the idea of any kind of history existing before television is not only inconceivable, but blasphemous.

At any rate, there still exist some of us old diehards who insist that the written word has much to offer, especially in terms of engaging the imagination of the reader. That Sesame Street ain't all it was cracked up to be, especially in terms of replacing the imagination with 30-second video clips and sound bites. And the short story still has its place in a culture of channel-surfing, fast foods and instant everything. As a matter of fact, it might represent the last and only possible means of keeping the art of imaginative reading alive. Imagine that!

I hate to sound so cynical, but I also offer no apologies. I would now like to take a moment to address the under-25 generation: When exactly did you last read a novel? AND How many of you out there actually boast that you got through high school without EVER having read a novel! I rest my case.

A few years ago, our family began a new Christmas tradition. It consisted of either finding and sharing a published literary offering that related to the theme of Christmas, or presenting an original work. The presenter or creator, whatever the case may be, would share his or her discovery with the rest of the family on Christmas Eve. This, by the way, has turned out to be a most delightful practice, providing both tears and laughter and proving to be a tradition of the season that is most anticipated. The following links will take you to a couple of examples of that tradition. They are short stories that I wrote especially for the occasion of sharing with my family -- and engaging their imaginations -- on Christmas Eve.

Jenny Harper was written for the Christmas season of 2001. Christmas, 1933 is actually an excerpt from my novel, The Walnut Grove.