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What Makes A Short Story Actually Work? Part 2: Get Functional

Welcome to Part 2 of our "What Makes A Short Story Actually Work" series, where we dive into the details of not just what we look for in good stories, but what will improve your writing forever.


Now that you’ve built the bones of your story with form by taking our advice in Part 1, let’s talk about your story's purpose. Because form is great—but function is where the magic happens.


Essential Functions:

Get in the Groove


Hit Hard and Fast


The best short stories hit like a shot of espresso: small, but intense. And if you drink it at the wrong time of day, it could leave you up all night with your mind abuzz.


Whether you’re going for tears, laughter, or existential dread, the emotional beats of your story should pack a punch. This is so crucial, we've written an entire post detailing how to do it.


Here are some stellar openings from our debut anthology, Trouble in Paradise:


  • Margaret never wanted this perfect night to end. - "Midnight at the Elysium Hotel"


  • Since the beginning, there has been sin. But at the beginning, you really weren't missing much, trust me. - "The Most Egregious Sins of the Common Mayfly"


These openings grab us fast—and that’s the goal. But within the story, remember that not all big moments have to be loud. Stillness and subtext can hit just as hard.


Ultimately, every line should serve the emotional arc. Ask yourself: What’s the one feeling I want to leave behind? Then make every word chase that.


Something Has to Change


If nothing changes for your characters or world, then… what was the point of making them?


The primary shift in your story might be big and external—your character burns it all down and starts over. Or, it might be small, internal—a quiet moment of clarity, a new way of seeing the world. Both shifts have their place depending on your story's stakes.


The key is making it so your character has no choice but to undergo the change to move forward because of who they are and the consequences of the choices they've made up till this moment. Take tragedy for example, where the flaws of the character make it so there's only one option they would take; even if it's not the one they should.


Either way, the character and the reader should leave the story different than they entered.


Want to dive deeper into character development? We have a post for that.


Build a World in a Teacup


You don’t need sprawling maps or four paragraphs of lore to create a rich world. Give us just enough—the details your character would naturally notice—and trust us to fill in the rest.


If time travel is totally normal in your universe, your characters aren’t going to explain it like a tour guide. They’re going to say, “Be back in an hour, heading to the 1800s,” and keep it moving.


Worldbuilding through casual dialogue and specific, grounded details is your best friend. A throwaway line like, “She zinged away on a warp pad—probably visiting another ex,” tells us everything we need to know without overloading the page.


Leave Room for the Reader


Readers are smart and love a good mystery, so let them play detective a little. Not everything needs to be spelled out in bold, blinking neon.


A little ambiguity? Delicious. A question left hanging? Yes, please. But be careful: mystery isn’t the same as confusion. Your emotional arc still needs to land. Once you've established your main story beats, try taking a few details away, foreshadowing them, and revealing them at the end.


When in doubt, save the poetry for the moments that matter. Don’t bury your story in metaphors; use them instead to enhance, not obscure.


Say Something Real


Short stories are often strange, speculative, or surreal—but at the center, they should still be about something true. Think of your favorite works of fiction (or non-fiction). Chances are you don't remember every line of it, but a few that stuck out to you as emotionally resonant, and the general feeling it left after finishing it. That's the real, good stuff.


Love. Loss. Identity. Grief. Hope. Loneliness. Whatever essential feeling or lesson you're trying to convey, rooting it in the core tenants of the human experience will strum the proverbial heartstrings of your audience long after they've left the page.


Readers might come for the dragons or dystopias—but they stay for the truth underneath.



Final Thoughts: Small Stories, Big Impact


A short story isn’t a “mini novel” or a warm-up act—it’s a precision-crafted piece of storytelling that hits with intention.


When form and function are in sync, even 2,000 words can leave someone breathless.


Write boldly. Edit with a sharp knife. Say something that matters. And never underestimate the power of your words.


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