S3P ~ A Story in Three Paragraphs

Welcome to S3PA Story in Three Paragraphs, a blog for short-short fiction writers to show their talents. “Why S3P?” you might ask. It is said a story should have a beginning, a middle and an ending; thus the three paragraph format.  There are no word count restrictions, but writers are encouraged to follow flash fiction writing style. Paragraphs should  be exactly that – paragraphs. I am looking for stories with meaning. Impact. Strength. Great literary flash fiction. Stories may be plot-driven, character-driven, emotion-driven or essays.

What is Flash Fiction?  According to Catherina Sustana writing for about.com flash fiction has these characteristics:

  • Brevity. Regardless of the specific word count, flash fiction attempts to condense a story into the fewest words possible. To look at it another way, flash fiction tries to tell the biggest, richest, most complex story possible within a certain word limit.
  • A beginning, middle, and end. In contrast to a vignette or reflection, most flash fiction tends to emphasize plot. While there are certainly exceptions to this rule, telling a complete story is part of the excitement of working in this condensed form.
  • A twist or surprise at the end. Again, there are plenty of exceptions to this rule, but setting up expectations and then turning them upside down in a short space is one hallmark of successful flash fiction.

The complete link is http://shortstories.about.com/od/Flash/a/What-Is-Flash-Fiction.htm

What is not wanted: stories peppered with profanity just to show how cool you think you are; personal tragedies about a lost loved one (this is a fiction site, right?) explicit sex, stories with rim-shot endings, or poetry.

Sharing: if you know other writers who would like to participate please send them the link https://jeffswitt.wordpress.com/s3p-a-story-in-three-paragraphs/

Favorite places: I would like to share some of my favorite online flash fiction sites.   100 Word Story offers a monthly photo prompt and considers other stories as well.  Boston Literary Magazine publishes quarterly in areas of 50-word and 100-word stories, and stories not exceeding 250 words. A third, Nailpolish Stories is a fun 25-word site which publishes quarterly. Stories must be the name of a nail polish color. Beginning writers will find Ann Linquist Writes and You Can Too a nurturing place to further develop their writing skills. Please check them out!

Contact: If you would like to contact me, I have a jeffswitt Gmail address which is a dot com.

Now, go write something great!

Jeff Switt

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10 thoughts on “S3P ~ A Story in Three Paragraphs”

  1. I have had to delete previous posts in order to use this more effectively as the home page. I appreciate all the contributions that were made to get this site rolling. Thank you!

  2. The September Photo Prompt is posted here:


  3. Voting for the favorite September photo is completed and the winner posted on the winner page.

    The new photo for October is posted. Have fun with it.

  4. ..

  5. oliviascarlett said:

    “Let’s take the long way home,” Gordy said as we left Thorn Street Pool in the summer of ’68, towels wrapped around our necks, sun shining on our backs, youth in our step. We’d been swimming at this pool every morning and walking home together since we were six. Normally we’d cut across the train tracks, before the noon train passed through, and climb the short hill which led to Miller Street, where we lived. But today, for some reason, Gordy wanted to take his time so I agreed and we took the long way home.

    We walked all the way around the cemetery, past the high school and through the apartment complex alongside Franklin Street which ran parallel to the train tracks. We ended up picking wild berries in the field next to the high school and eating them as we walked. Gordy told me about his step-dad, Pete, and the trouble he was causing for his family; especially his mom. “He’s a drunk and he hits her. I want to kill him, Claire. Really I do.” Tears rolled down his sunburned cheeks as he stopped me in the middle of the road and took me by the hand. “Don’t let me kill him, Claire. Don’t let me do it…promise me.”

    An hour later, as we approached Miller Street, we could see in the distance two police cars parked in front of Gordy’s house. Gordy dropped his towel and ran as fast as he could, certain his mom was in trouble or worse, badly hurt, probably at the hands of Pete. But when he reached the house his mom was sitting on the front porch, unscathed, huddle between two police officers. “Pete was run over by a train today, Gordon,” she said. “He was walking to the pool to tell you he was leaving town…and now he is dead.” Gordy turned around and gave me a toothy smile and I was happy for him and glad we took the long way home.

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