#186: Story Form with Erik Harper Klass

For this week, we're bringing you something a little different: a takeover contest, written by editor, writing coach, and author Erik Harper Klass. The winning story from this contest will not only receive their $250 winnings, but also an extra special bonus prize: personal feedback from Erik himself. For your chance to get personal insight from one of the best in the business, read on! Here's Erik:

I’ve always been intrigued with the form and structure of stories — as opposed to their content, meaning, subject, themes, etc. I’m thinking of (to offer just a few examples off the top of my head) David Mitchel’s Cloud Atlas (a book within a book within a book ...), Nabokov’s Pale Fire (a long poem followed by endnotes wherein the real story resides), Georges Perec’s Life: A User’s Manual (based on the Knight’s Tour on a chessboard), Italo Calvino’s If on a winter’s night a traveler (which is kind of like reading about someone reading the book's first chapter, over and over again), B. S. Johnson’s The Unfortunates (in which the novel’s sections come in a box and can be shuffled and read in any order). And so on.

So let’s explore form. I don’t care if you want to write about your niece’s birthday party, the Battle of Stalingrad, Beyoncé, or the End of Time. Just make it formally interesting. — Erik

Special update: The results 🏆

After reviewing the judges' top picks and choosing his winner, here was Erik's feedback on the shortlist and winner he chose, which he has kindly given us permission to share with you all! Here's Erik again:

I am astounded, impressed, delighted, humbled. Formal experimentation is alive and well! These couple of dozen pieces made my day. And then my next day. Really, truly, phenomenal work. It would be a cliché to say that choosing a winner was difficult. But, well, choosing a winner was really f***ing difficult.

It became apparent fairly early in my readings that these writers could write. The solidity of the prose, the delicate construction of story and character—these things, I believe with no exception, worked. So, once I realized that these stories were all “good” (at least), I could shift my focus to, and reward, the ways writers used form to tell their stories. Which of course was the point of the exercises.

A few things I learned (and some general thoughts):

Dialogue, very simply, need not have attributives. I guess I knew this going in (I wouldn’t have written the prompt otherwise), but to see this form work so effectively, again and again, was pleasant confirmation. Let this be a lesson to us all. Some standouts: “X-rays, Locking Screws, and Antlers” by Aaron Kc took this form about as far as one could, to dazzling effect. I thought it was the strongest of the pure dialogue pieces. “Remote Meeting Re: Presentation” by Will Willoughby is also worth honoring; Will is a craftsman and I’d love to read more of his work. Finally, “Every Conversation We Had, at the End.” by Jacky Burke . . . well, in my notes, I wrote “close to perfect.” It was. (That “close to perfect” didn’t win this thing says a lot.)
For the prompt on beginning (or ending) paragraphs with the same sentence: If I could go back in time, I would have allowed for paragraphs to begin (or end) with phrases. This would have allowed for a bit more freedom with this form, which did, at times, feel restrictive. Nonetheless, there were some powerful stories that used this technique well, none more so than the heartbreaking “Good Boy” by Wendy Rogers and the spectacular “Why Do You Write?” by Sophia Gardenia. “Dale Was Adamant” by Wally Schmidt must also be on my list; a perfect use of the form.
I happen to love fragmentary writing—both reading it and writing it—and the stories sent to me that used this form did not disappoint. “Glass Beach” by Cindy Strube, my runner-up in the competition, used fragments to describe fragments, all coming together in a way that . . . well, read the piece. It’s a tour de force. I wouldn’t mind seeing this piece expanded into a novella. Cindy is on to something truly beautiful here.
Before getting to a winner, just a couple of others that stood out: “READ THAT BACK” by Susan Catucci, which I could just keep reading forever; I appreciate the work that went into this one, Susan. And “She’s Not Cryin’ Anymore” by Hannah Labouchere, which was haunting, strange and wonderful. A work of art. Because I must stop somewhere, I will stop here.

And the winner is . . .

“Mouse!” by Michał Przywara. Clearly, my prompt on utilizing a mathematical sequence to structure a story was not one that most writers embraced. I don’t blame them. The restrictions are somewhat daunting. Besides showing an élan of language and craft, and an inventiveness of story, I dare say Michał—along with the “triangular sequence” upon which the piece is based—came up with a whole new form. A whole new form! (The Oulipians would be proud.) This is what I was hoping for. This was the idea. To see how form could be used to create something inventive, something exciting. And, I must add, completely entertaining.

These pieces brought a great joy to my usual life of reading and editing.

— Erik

Interested in working with Erik on your own project? You can find him here.