The 100 word story

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For 100-word stories, see drabble.

100 Word Story

Discipline	Literary magazine
Language	English
Edited by	Grant Faulkner & Lynn Mundell
Publication details
History	2011–present
Frequency	Quarterly
Standard abbreviations
ISO 4	100 Word Story
Links
Journal homepage

100 Word Story is a literary magazine that was founded in 2011 by writers Grant Faulkner and Lynn Mundell in Berkeley, California. It publishes stories and essays that are exactly 100 words in length (also known as a drabble); each piece is published with an accompanying photo.

The 100-word format forces the writer to question each word as they write it. The brevity of the form, and the magazine’s presentation, allows the writer to «keep a story free from an explanation,» in the spirit of Walter Benjamin’s philosophy of storytelling.^[1] The magazine reads submissions throughout the year.

History[edit]

The idea for 100 Word Story originated when Faulkner read Paul Strohm’s 100-word stories that were published in Eleven Eleven Magazine. At the time, Faulkner was working on a long novel, and he became entranced by writing in such a succinct, compressed form. In a 2014 interview, Faulkner explained:

«Writing these smaller pieces was a nice break, and since I could squeeze them into a somewhat-frenzied life as a working parent, they gave me a great sense of creative satisfaction … I could actually finish something.»^[2]

In 2011, Faulkner and Mundell decided to create a journal that was exclusively dedicated to 100-word stories; this journal became 100 Word Story. Beret Olsen came on as photo editor in 2014. In 2015, Faulkner published a collection of his own 100-word stories, Fissures.^[3] He has also contributed essays about flash fiction to The New York Times,^[4] Poets & Writers,^[5] Writer’s Digest,^[6] and The Writer.^[7]
Regarding the challenge of the form, Faulkner and Mundell are often asked if a story can be told in only 100 words; however, they have both argued that most of the stories they publish have the same three-act structure of a conventional short story. Mundell described a good 100-word story as the following:

» One-fourth character, one-fourth setting, one-fourth point of view, one-fourth plot. Fold all together gently, layering into a Pyrex dish. Heat it up in the oven or stow it in the freezer, depending on how you want it to taste. Then let it sit overnight. Test with a tablespoon. If it stands up, the story is ready. If not, wait another day. Serve on a paper plate.»^[8]

In another essay, Faulkner said that he learned that each line of a flash story carries a symbolic weight that moves the story forward; at the same time, gaps within and around the story speak as large as the text itself.^[4]

Publications[edit]

In 2018, Outpost19 published an anthology of 100 Word Story’s best pieces, entitled Nothing Short of 100: Selected Tales from 100 Word Story.^[9] In April 2018, the book was featured as a recommended read on Lit Hub.^[10] In May 2018, The Millions featured a round table discussion on flash fiction with the book’s editors and authors.^[11]

Many of its stories have been included in a number of anthologies, including W.W. Norton’s anthology New Micro: Exceptionally Short Fiction and the annual Best Small Fictions series. Its stories are also routinely included in Wigleaf’s annual long- and short-lists of best flash fiction.^[12]

Reception[edit]

In a review of the magazine, the Review Review, a publication that critiques literary magazines, said:

«100 Word Story is not your average literary find on the web. It challenges both the reader and the potential writer to choose carefully images and words brought forth while reading and creating. The reader has the challenge of taking the 100-word limit to mindfully fill in the spaces of the story using their own experiences and imagination to take from the story what will best fill them with a complete picture. The writer also faces this challenge by working in a backward manner to extract parts of the story that do not move it to a conclusion in an effort to meet the 100-word count. The fascinating task to say the least.»^[13]

Of the anthology, Nothing Short of 100, author Amber Sparks said:

“These beautifully economical short stories (yes, truly stories) are photographs built with words. They capture a moment and a lifetime, a fraction and a whole. They are epics the size of sound bites, and they prove once and for all that size doesn’t matter. Just the stories that fit inside.”^[11]

See also[edit]

• List of literary magazines

References[edit]

External links[edit]

• 100 Word Story
• Grant Faulkner
• Lynn Mundell
• Fissures
• Going Long, Going Short
• Online Lit Mag Showcases 100-Word Gems Archived July 4, 2019, at the Wayback Machine
• A Flash Fiction Roundtable: Short but Never Small
• The Making of Nothing Short of 100

Illustration by Anirban Ghosh

TOWARDS FREEDOM (1st Prize)

«Jana gana mana …» The schoolboy squirmed. Another two minutes? He knew he should stand at attention. The drillmaster’s cane loomed large.»Vindhya Himachal …»He grunted in discomfort. This was unbearable. He considered making a dash; after all he was in the last row. What if the master noticed? The cane loomed again. He gritted his teeth.»Tava shubha …»This is it. He cast his eyes around.»Jaya he …»He started running.»Jaya he …»He was almost there.»Jaya he …»The chorus floated from afar. He was already in the toilet, heaving a relieved sigh.

—Subramaniam Mohan, Chennai

THE WINDOW (2nd Prize)

On a windy winter morning, a woman looked out of the window.The only thing she saw, a garden. A smile spread across her face as she spotted Maria, her daughter, in the middle of the garden enjoying the weather. It started drizzling. Maria started dancing joyfully.She tried to wave to her daughter, but her elbow was stuck, her arm hurt, her smile turned upside down. Reality came crashing down as the drizzle turned into a storm. Maria’s murdered corpse consumed her mind.On a windy winter morning, a woman looked out of the window of her jail cell.

—Saanchi Wadhwa, New Delhi

IDENTITY CRISIS (3rd Prize)

The country was on fire. Communal riots had paralyzed most of the state. Reyaz, with the help of a friend, got a fake identity card—his new name was Rakesh—and booked a ticket to Aligarh. The ticket checker on the train asked for his identification—Reyaz nervously showed the one he had recently procured. He seemed satisfied and Reyaz heaved a sigh of relief.At Aligarh there was none to fear. «Assalamu alaikum,» said Reyaz to ward off a group of enraged people. The angriest of them, with bloodshot eyes, approached Reyaz and asked for his identity card.

—Junaid H. Nahvi, New Delhi

LEERING LOTHARIO (4th Prize)

She peered over the open magazine, and there he was, still staring at her, disconcertingly. For the past 30 minutes, she’d endured his irritating attention. Time to call airport security. The burly cop strode in purposefully, with a sleek Alsatian on leash. «Sir, there’s been a complaint. I need you to come with me. Quietly, please,» he growled. The leather-jacketed man didn’t move a muscle. His hands were rock-steady on the trolley handle in front of him. The cop waited for a minute, and then reached out to handcuff the Ray-Ban-wearing guy. The hands were locked in rigor mortis.

—Ed Sudhir, Bengaluru

LOVE ACTUALLY

«Do you believe in shooting stars?» she asked.»Do you?»»There is no harm, is there?» She paused. «I’d love to sit in the balcony amidst all the flowerpots and watch the busy world go by.»He said nothing. She needed no assurance, no promise. She squawked a reply when they asked if she was ready to go back to her room. It would be another 10 minutes before the duty nurse wheeled him away.She had laughed at the last tooth he had lost. He had teased her about the silver hair at the back of her sweater.

—Maya Davi Chalissery, Thrissur, Kerala

A BROKEN PROMISE

Hearing a knock on the door,  she hustled towards it with her  little feet, her lips uncloaking the cutest smile and her voice singing, «Daddy’s home!» Her mum, glued to the news channels for the past week, approached the door hesitantly and opened it with trepidation.Two men in military uniform were standing at the doorstep. One of them handed her an envelope with a mournful expression, adding plaintively, «We’re sorry, Mrs Bhatt.»»Where’s my dad, Uncle? He promised we’ll celebrate Diwali together this time,» exclaimed the girl. They stared helplessly, with a lump in their throats and moistened eyes.

—Aditi Sharma, New Delhi

MEETING THE ONE

They met at a cafe, stealing glances at each other while the parents  spoke animatedly.They remained silent throughout, only exchanging shy smiles while ordering snacks at the counter.Returning with the food, he moved to the head of the table to get a good look at her.Noticing his manoeuvre, she smiled down at her coffee, making him beam like a proud schoolboy.When the two families parted at the end of the meeting, he rushed back to the cafe, praying that the girl, who had been at the table behind theirs all afternoon, would still be there.

—Preyanka Paswan, New Delhi

HUMANKIND

It was pouring, as I entered a  nearby porch.Out of the blue, a kid startled me from behind—I panicked and scampered away. His father asked him not to scare anyone.After some initial hiccups we became good friends. I often visited their house, ate with them.One day, while I was slurping down the milk, a man entered their portico, begging for food.The father yelled at him and pushed him out of the entrance.I was terrified, and in a jiffy, I ran away screaming, «Meow! Meow …»

—Aswin R. S., Chennai

RED SAND

Border guard Melissa Walter fumed, «Madam President’s lost it.» A new batch was arriving. The count had crossed 10,000. «As if the country doesn’t have enough mouths to feed.»Officer Gerald was off-duty, so here she was, about to ‘welcome’ refugees. The boat arrived. She pasted on her best professional smile.So many people, all skinny and gaunt. Teary, scared eyes, with a weak gait. Clinging to the elders, the children walked on.»Look!» a boy exclaimed, dropping down. «The sand is so soft here. It’s not red. Can I touch, Mama?» he pleaded.Melissa stood still, stunned into silence.

—Geetha M., Kanchipuram

WHAT, SERIOUSLY?

Varun called his friend over to his house. When he arrived, he told him he had to speak to him about a problem. They both went up to Varun’s room.»What is it?» asked the friend. «I think I am having an identity crisis,» said Varun.»What do you mean?» asked his friend.»MOOOOOO!» he bellowed like a cow.His friend stood frozen, in stunned silence. Varun burst out laughing, «I was just kidding!»»Are you sure? Because we just ran out of milk,» came the reply.

—Aditi Ashok, Chennai

THE GOODBYE

Out jogging, I saw two elderly women hugging each other and weeping inconsolably. The women had been good friends, living in adjacent apartments on the ground floor, for years.One of them was now having to shift to the fifth floor, as the house owner wished to undertake major maintenance work.Since there were no lifts in the building, she would be carried upstairs, unable to come down—ever again. Her friend, just as frail, would not be able to visit her upstairs either. Accepting the inevitability of their permanent separation, the poor dears said their final goodbyes.

—Deepak Nair, Thiruvananthapuram

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE

As a married couple, they led a charmed life. Jantu had his own circle of friends and Tulu had hers. And every morning they exchanged and savoured their previous day’s experiences over breakfast. Jantu was not immune to the seven-year-itch, though. The days he strayed were few and far between. Faithful Tulu was quietly accommodating. On the nights he slipped, Jantu would indicate it by skipping his daily apple at breakfast.That morning, Jantu was devastated to see Tulu’s favourite pear was left untouched.

—K. L. Narayanan, Bengaluru

THE UGLY TRUTH

«Hello,» said the figure cloaked in darkness.»Who are you?» I asked.»I am that which you fear the most,» it said to me and stepped into the light.What I saw next sent me into a paroxysm of fear. There stood a creature most hideous: twisted body, gnarled fingers, with a semblance of what might have once been a face. Chillingly revealing a gaping hole where its heart should have been, spilling oily blackness.Overcome with revulsion and trembling in horror, I fell to my knees.»I am you,» said the creature.

—Vaishnavi R. Krishna, Thiruvananthapuram

MUMMIFIED

During our visit to Egypt’s Alexandria National Museum, I took my five-year-old son to the basement to see a mummy and started explaining what it was. Confused, he bolted from the room and rushed to his mother, who was busy chatting with other tourists.He told my wife breathlessly, «Mum! Dad just showed me another mummy. He is looking at her.»Surprised, my wife followed him to the basement. She sized up the situation instantly and retorted, «Oh! Mummy is a daddy.»Confused, sonny asked innocently, «If mummy is the daddy, then who is the mummy’s mummy?»

—Dhananjay Sinha, Kolkata

STREET SMART

It was 9 a.m., 26 January. The politician’s car, on the way to the flag-hoisting ceremony, stopped at a red light. A 10-year-old street vendor came running to the car and waved the tricolour, hoping that selling one more flag will help him buy some vada pav. With no intention of buying, the politician rolled down the window and smirked, «Today you are selling the national flag. On other days, I have seen you sell toys, umbrellas and kites. Is there anything you have not sold so far?»»Our country,» the boy retorted at once.

—Kalpesh Sheth, Mumbai

All entries have been edited for clarity. They were graded on grammar, language, originality, plot device and storytelling technique by RD editors, basis which the winning entries were selected. Winners will receive book prizes, courtesy HarperCollins Publishers India.

Want to try your hand at writing a 100-word story but don’t know where to begin? Here’s a quick guide to get you started 

Legend has it Hemmingway won a bet with his six-word short story: “For sale: baby shoes. Never worn.” His challenge was to move his audience with a few brief words. The ones he came up with show that being a man (or woman) of few words doesn’t stop you from saying a great deal with them.

The skill is in choosing the right words and allowing them to suggest far more than they say. The human brain is a miraculous thing, with endless capacity for filling in the gaps. The challenge of writing a piece of flash fiction is to say enough to convey a story which resonates, while allowing the reader to infer further layers of meaning.

It also requires you to trust yourself as a writer and to resist the temptation to over-explain.

In flash fiction writers aim to tell an entire story in a few short paragraphs. The story should have a beginning, middle and end and often finishes with a surprise or twist, which prompts the reader to reflect further.

“Baby Shoes” illustrates how it is possible to do this with the utmost brevity. Traditional jokes follow a similar format: a man walks into a bar, he says or does a few things and then there is a punch line.

«The most valuable of all talents is that of never using two words where one will do»

To boil a whole story down to a few sentences is hard, especially if you are used to writing longer stories or even full-length novels. But flash fiction is a brilliant exercise in restraint. Trying your hand at it can help even longer pieces of work become sparser and elegiac.

Thomas Jefferson famously said “the most valuable of all talents is that of never using two words where one will do.”

Writing flash fiction is a process of choosing the right words and making the ones you have chosen sing for their supper.

The following tips will help you consider how to make your 100 words speak volumes.

Think of a title

When you’ve got a limited word count, a good title can start to tell the story. “Something nasty in the woodshed” or “Skating on Thin Ice” alert the reader to a reveal or a disaster before you’ve even begun writing.

Make an immediate start

Your beginning should take the reader straight to the heart of the story, introduce the main characters, establish the setting and raise a question that will be answered by the end.

Keep it simple

Although you want to write a complete story, you do not have time for back-story or sub plots. Focus on a single scene in a particular moment of time.

Stick with a slim cast of characters

Ideally just one or two. If necessary, others can be mentioned or alluded to. Writing in the first person and the present tense also helps with economy of words.

Say it succinctly

Speech allows characters to encapsulate storylines and infer meaning you may not have time for with exposition. Do away with speech attributions too, if it’s clear who is speaking.

Make your words work

Think about how you can set the scene and convey emotion using single evocative words.

Shorten your sentences

Be creative with form. Use lists. Play with punctuation. You don’t need perfectly formed sentences. Sometimes a single word will suffice.

Take the reader on a journey

No matter how short, all stories need a sense of progression. Something must change by the end of it. The characters must have moved on from where they were at the beginning.

Introduce the unexpected

Surprise the reader. Show them something new. Give them something to take away from your story.

Edit

Once your story is written, see what you can take out without changing the sense of it. Strip out superfluous words so that what you are left with is the brilliant, evocative essence of your story.

Now you’re ready to write a 100-word story of your own! Make sure you enter our competition by submitting your story by May 1, 2022 here. 

DEADLINE FOR ENTRIES NOW EXTENDED FOR CHILDREN’S CATEGORIES—ENTER BY MAY 20, 2022

***NOW CLOSED FOR ADULT ENTRIES*** 

Lizzie Enfield is the author of five novels and one non-fiction title who also works as a creative writing tutor and mentor elizabethenfield.com

Read more: Previous 100-word story competition winners 

Read more: How to unleash your creativity

Keep up with the top stories from Reader’s Digest by subscribing to our weekly newsletter.

I had written many 100 word story series, but never thought of publishing them on my website. Today suddenly felt like why not and here I am publishing my first 100 word story series. I hope my readers will like and appreciate. I will try to bring in more of my compilations soon.

The Arrival

A quiver inside my lower abdomen shuddered my inner peace.

“Why does my heart tremble? Why is there a feeling of discomfort?”

My subtle conscience endeavours to arrive at a conclusion. But Alas! I am unable to diagnose the intriguing curiosity cluttering within me.

“Hey, you need to be admitted fast,” the doctor sensed emergency.

They wheeled me inside the operation theatre. The tinkling sound of the surgical instruments fluttered my soul. The voices around swerved my mind. A tensed wait captivated my brain.

My body immersed into an insentient state. A cry tantalized me.

My baby boy was born.

The Passion

You dazzle me with your enchanting touch. You enrapture my soul with your passionate embrace.

You drench my inner self and purify my heart. Your whispering mystic sound hynotizes my mind. An engrossing sensation captivates my inner desires.

I gleefully sway and snuggle into your core. You quench my thirst and chill my body. I crave more to indulge in your encapsulation.

I dance in glory, entangling myself into your enigmatic beauty. My lustrous hair breathes in your splashing drizzle.

I love you Rains, the shimmering Rains. Enliven my mind and uplift my soul.

The Writer

Emotions spurted from the heart, feelings gushed out of the mind. The pen scrawled along sheets and sheets of paper.

The narrative expanded and amplified its magnitude. Ripple of words drifted into the swaying mood of the tale. Characters gained momentum in subsequent scenes. The letters tiptoed through the core of the manuscript.

A variegated sentiment of apprehension and nervousness gripped the inner self. Steadily the story approached the climax. The pulsation of the heart intensified with the breathtaking outcome.

A gratifying smile beamed in solitude. Within a world of determination and positivity, a writer was born.

Love

Two innocent souls danced in each other’s pleasant company. They chuckled and giggled with amusement and delight.

Traversing a journey from childhood to adolescence, they strengthened the bonding of friendship. Confiding in each other was the essence of their connection.

Societal rituals enforced them to tie the nuptials with unknown individuals. Their hearts refused to surrender towards strangers.

A realization of earnest craves accumulated inside their mind. Leaving the world behind, they entangled into each other. Consciousness reassured them of their inseparable bond.

The kinship diverted its path to a life long relationship of trust and belief, a true love.

The Desire

The melodious humming of the music scintillated her soul. Lost into the core of the beats, her voice spontaneously sang with the tunes. Her heart danced in ecstasy and joy.

The medical jargons, journals and books instantly seemed like strangers. Her dreamy eyes floated into the world of chords and tones.

Desperately breaking the bonds of her parents desire, she drifted her mind into the eternal kingdom of solace. A kingdom embellished with the mellifluous tempo of musical chords.

Leaving behind a world of scientific nomenclatures, she embarked into her new pursuit for musical glory and fame.

The Lost Colours of Life

Their luxurious mansion was equipped with all modern amenities. They possessed the finest lavish cars. Stylish and affluent attires adorned their wardrobes.

Flourishing in their professional fields, their careers have been ascending the heights of success.

Revelling in fame, they walk in pride into the wedding reception of an acquaintance. Silently they observe the affection between the wedding couples.

Memories of their romance flooded back. The long lost feelings shattered by ambitions and greed for money, gripped their hearts in pain. Emotions downpoured on Joe and Sally as they hugged and caressed each other after one year of lost colours.

fictions in a hundred words or less
with inspiration from Micro SF/F and A Small Fiction

On a Small Planet

The Two Capes

The Layover

Invisibility

The Enchanted Book

In the Waiting Room

Flowers for Louis

The Self on the Shelf

Published
July 19, 2017July 18, 2017

10 thoughts on “100-Word Stories”

1. 100-word stories are called “drabbles”. I used to think this was after Margaret Drabble, the English writer (whom I had confused for a moment with Margaret Atwood, the Canadian writer), but Wikipedia says it’s a Monty Python reference. How disappointing.

   1. Ah, thanks for pointing out – I like the word! Per Wikipedia the fad originated right here in Birmingham, England. But we can call them “Atwoods” if you like; or maybe “Attrees” (being a fraction of an Atwood? or is that a pun too far?).

2. 1. Yeah! I once tried to write some that were exactly 100 words, each comprising a single sentence, with no word used more than once per story; but they came out (as you might expect) a little too stilted!

3. Brilliant! Love these. I love your blog although have to admit I rarely understand the mathsy stuff. Words AND numbers – Rare talent!

   1. Should of course have added AND artwork …

      1. The artwork? :O See, now I *know* you’re being too kind.

5. These messed me up. I just want you to know that.

6. This was profoundly different from your usual posts. This was also amazing

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