Novel Chapters of the Size of Tweets?

Whenever I come across an attractive piece of reading, my first thought is: Why don’t I check out the Internet for some quotes from the book first? If I like the quotes, I can devote a few minutes to reading about the book and its author, and only then I would take the book and start reading it. shrinking-1

In the new millemium, this tendency has grown into a common pattern for many of us, because our time is too precious and the abundance of books which are marketed as bestsellers is so mindblowing that we simply cannot afford to ‘read everything we can get our hands on’, as many readers use to say about their childhood habits.

This change is going to influence the writers’ work, too. Today, the life of an author is such that in order to conquer readers’ attention, one has to compress every thought to the size of a tweet. I won’t be surprised if I see a bestseller with chapters of the size of tweets some day. This is the specificity of our time, and authors will have to adjust to it.

Our available reading time is shrinking, so do the lengths of fiction and non-fiction works. This is the thought that I wanted to share here, so I will wrap up the post, hoping that somebody will read it to the end.

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Romantic Mystery: A Man in the Knitted Scarf

At dawn, when the first beams of the April sun gilded the porch of the house and started crawling along the lawn toward the old apple tree, the door of the house opened with a creak and released a man of indefinite age, wearing sunglasses, a gray denim jacket and a nifty knitted scarf. The man fastened up his jacket and hurried out of the yard.

Having reached the mailbox, the man paused to study the sign. It said:

#12, Sara Bonk. Writer.

The man smirked. He took out a cigarette, lit it, and drew on it with a sigh of relief. Then, he threw the used match on the ground, and said quietly to himself, as he walked away:

“For sure, the book was better.”

Since then, the man in the knitted scarf has never been seen in the neighborhood.

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Companions in Misfortune

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(micro-fiction, one minute read)

Jim was thoughtful and silent all evening. He left his laptop unpacked in the hall, missed his favorite program on television, never changed into his favorite home suit, and — what was the most upsetting, of course — did not even come up to the fridge!

Smokey watched him with growing concern. Two times he approached Jim’s leg, rubbed against it and meowed, then he tried to climb up on Jim’s lap, but his friend remained  unresponsive.

Then he spoke on the phone.

Having finished the talk, Jim sat down on the couch and buried his face in his hands.

“She just gave birth to a triplet,” he said though his fingers to no one in particular.

Smokey came up and sat near Jim. He wanted to help. He wished he could share his point, but all he could do was rub his head against Jim’s elbow and pur, which meant:

“Come on, pal, don’t panic. I’ve been there. Some day you’ll give them away!”

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On The Immaculate Conception

(micro-fiction, one minute read)

The reason of your daughter’s sickness is simple,” said the doctor and threw a short glance at the older of the two women sitting in front of him. “Your daughter is pregnant.”

There was a moment of silence.

But how is it possible?!” The mother exclaimed. “My daughter has never been with a man! Darling,” she turned to her girl, “have you ever…?”

No, Mother,” the girl protested, “I never did anything of the kind! I never even kissed anybody!”

The doctor stood up and slowly walked to the window. There, he stopped without saying a word and froze facing the morning sun.

The two women also sat in silence for a while, looking at the doctor’s back, fidgeting impatiently in their chairs. Finally, the mother broke the silence:

Erm.., Doctor! What are you doing there at the window?”

I am waiting,” the doctor replied. “You see, in a case like yours, we should be seeing a bright star rising in the East and three wise men descending from the hill…

On Immaculate Conception

On Structuring Public Speeches

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(micro fiction, one minute read)

When the world was new, Savior Angel shared universal wisdom with people.

Whatever happens,” he said, “do not forget the ultimate rule of life: while young, share energy; in the age of maturity, share beauty; when old and gray share wisdom, and always– are you listening? Always share–”

Alas! People were not listening. They were too busy exploring their awesome new world.

Years flew by. Time ran away so quickly that people had no chance to enjoy it. One after another, they grew old and died, until only one woman remained alive. She was weak. Apparently, she was dying, too. Savior Angel came down to share some wisdom with her.

You, people, could survive,” he said, “if you had listened to my words about sharing love. You should have shared love. All of you. At all times.”

But the woman died before he finished talking.

Uh-huh. Now, I need a new world and new people– again!” Sighed the angel. “I guess, I should open my speech with the words about love; this will at least induce them to reproduce!”

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Fifty Weeks Pregnant

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(micro fiction, one minute read)

My roommate Lena was so busy dating our group leader last year that she missed almost all of her math classes. The night before the final exam she went to bed without even opening her coursebook.

In the morning, I had to leave early, so I only met Lena in the examination room. What I saw left me speechless: she looked pale, she was sweating and panting, and from under her loose summer dress protruded a huge, round stomach!

The teacher was throwing sympathetic looks at his pregnant student.

Would you like to go first?” He suggested. “You certainly want to leave this room as soon as possible.”

Yes, thank you,” Lena agreed.

All right, then. I have only one task for you,” said the teacher. “Solve it, and you are free to go. Here is the task. How many weeks pregnant is the woman, whose boyfriend came to me exactly six months ago to tell that his twenty-six week pregnant girlfriend was not feeling well and would not attend the fall semester test?”

Arming teachers. What’s next? Arming kids?

(flash fiction, one minute read)

Walking about the school unarmed was not only humiliating, but quite scary. Jodie paused at a turn of a corridor, pulled down the visor, and checked her garments: the bulletproof vest beneath her uniform was quite bulky, but since it was a new rule, she had to wear it at all times. The most hateful, of course, was the helmet: every now and then, its buckle would pinch Jodie’s skin right under the chin, making her eyes moist with tears of anger.

A door in the end of the corridor creaked, the Principal came into sight. He trotted toward the Teachers Room, the flamethrower at the ready. The door clicked locked behind him and the school became silent again.

The feeling of danger made Jodie’s heart beat like a drum. Aww, how stupid it was of her to blab that she’d like to see swings in the school yard instead of that anti-terrorist bunker! Now, she was punished with having to go everywhere unarmed for two weeks!

She felt lonely and scared, and her staggering milk tooth disturbed her like hell. I’m not ready for school yet, she thought. I wonder, could I return to the kindergarten? Hmm… Need to ask Mom about this when I’m home.

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Teachers with guns, picture from chicagonow.com

The Sense of Beauty

(one minute read)

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The pearls were creamy white, with tiny golden spots of reflected light dancing on them with every turn of Carla’s soft, silky neck. They glittered so seductively in the dimmed light of the lamp that Dustin could not drive his eyes away from them. He kept watching the dance of the sparkles, thinking that, apparently, those pearls were also craving to do their passionate dance, but could not because of the tiny white thread running through them, which kept them sitting motionlessly in a perfectly straight, milky line.

No, he could not resist it. Having struggled with temptation for a minute, he gave up. He approached Carla from behind, the tender scent of her perfume reached his nose… ooh, it was fabulous!

He pulled the thread, quite gently. Immediately, hundreds of pearls spurted out in all directions, jumping all over the room, scattering myriads of light splashes, bringing joy and excitement into Dustin’s mischievous mind!

Oh yes, it was worth it! He admired watching the motion of Carla’s shoulders, he enjoyed the dance of pearls in the air. He relished the scene until the last moment, when Carla’s cry cut the air:

“Dustin! You, bloody parrot! What have you done to my necklace?!

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Not His Worst Valentine’s Day

(micro fiction, 1 min.read)rodinka1

It was exactly twelve months since Ivan’s previous date: that incredibly sexy blonde with a mole on her lip ran away from the bar… with his wallet and keys.

It took Ivan almost a year to recover after the stress. Still, that wasn’t his worst Valentine’s, he had to admit. At least, they cuddled and kissed, and she called him “My Captain”. Twice. 

Ivan lit a few candles and opened the wine. Luda was to arrive within minutes. They’d been speaking online, and now they decided to meet on the Valentine’s Day for the very first time.

I am making the right choice this time, he assured himself as he waited. She is honest and kind, she is smart, and she’s never been late for a chat...

At two minutes to six, a knock on the door made him start. Ivan’s heart started hammering, he hurried to open.

The first thing he saw were his keys.

Hi, Captain!” said the voice from the chat, and the mole on the lip made a short sexy dance as she spoke.

Ivan gulped and stepped back. She walked in.

Happy Valentine’s Day!” She exclaimed and dropped Ivan’s keys on the table. “Hey, Captain, come on, stop staring and pour me some wine! Let us talk…”

The Space Spud Talk I Overheard This Morning

(micro fiction, 1 min.read)spudnik

“Hey, Pal, how are you?”

“I’m fine, but– funny, I feel kind of– discarded.”

“You are, my friend, you are. Don’t you remember? Those envious Russian cosmonauts grew angry when they saw SpaceX float by and threw us at it!”

“And… what?”

“And missed!”

“But of course. So. This is the open space, right? ”

“Yeah, but don’t panic. We might get a ride in that car.”

“What car?”

“The Tesla, of course! Are you nuts?”

“Ah, I see. A car on the orbit, that’s cool! So, what do we do?”

“We wait till it floats by and jump in.”

“Oh, Lord. Are we safe?”

“Of course we are safe!”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because on a space road you can’t be run over by a car!”

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