Ten reasons to write short stories, even if you’re a novelist.

At first, I thought writing short stories would ultimately distract me from my novel projects, in fact they make your other projects stronger.

Here’s ten reasons why you should write short stories:


Black Suits and Ties


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A year ago, I wrote this short story whilst waiting at Central Station for my train.

I did a lot of writing while I commuted, it passed the time and there was a diverse range of people showing different character traits that I a could, as a writer, observe and write.

I hope you enjoy. I would appreciate some feedback if anyone has some to offer; I love constructive criticism.


“Next stop, Central Station. This train terminates at Central Station; please take all your belongings and rubbish with you. Thank you,” said the voice of the city rail train.


Short Stories and Writing

Short Stories; a beginning, a middle and an end.

When I was at university I struggle to write short stories. To find a simple topic, expand in detail and conclude in a short space – while building a world, developing character and a plot.

The best thing I found with short stories, is stepping outside your comfort zone. I used to only write fantasy and now I am writing science-fiction, fiction, historical fiction, poetry and crime.

The more I write, the easier it has come to be happy with a plot, maybe because I read a lot of short stories. There is a lot skill behind each novel, in my opinion more so in short stories.

I made a short story page in my blog but it isn’t as engaging as the posts. So I will continue to share my stories in posts.

As a writer, where do you get inspiration from?

Do you like writing short stories/ flash fiction? and Why?

I hope you enjoy my short sci-fi story, I wrote it after playing the video game, Final Fantasy VII.


Remaining Life support ten minutes read the timer below the glass panel.

Who would’ve thought, being the first man to step foot on the moon would be drifting in space, cast into an eternity of darkness. With only my spacesuit and the voice recorder.

Fours days earlier it all seemed smooth, the take of went according to plan, the separation of the vessels broke off at the correct time, leaving me with only the tip of the space iceberg. Three days of traveling at high-speeds and a planned route towards the silver nights watchman, the moon. I landed safe, as one could, and leaped out of the shuttle, with the flag in one hand. “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind”. I pierced the American flag into the rock surface and enjoyed the greatest view of all time.

Looking back at Earth, the very existence of life – I know that’s cheesy but it is my monologue. What does it matter anyway; no-one will find my floating corpse.

As I was saying, when I was younger, in grade six, I would stare at the globe in the library. Fascinated by this sphere that had enormous amounts of ocean, more than land. I was fascinated and curious to see if Earth actually looked like that. But now I know for sure, it is.

Remaining Life Support, Five minutes. The spacesuit reminded him.

Shit. Time travels faster than I drift, I better get to the point.

The eerie of uncertainty gripped onto my back as I climbed back into the space shuttle, something was wrong. I strapped in and just like my first car dad bought me, it took a few goes to start both of the shuttles engines. The launch felt weaker than the one three days ago, all of a sudden red lights started flashing, transmissions from the control tower came through the speakers but things escalated very fast.

Red lights started flashing, the piercing sirens echoed through the shuttle, sparks from the main engine start shooting all around me, and flames ignited causing the windscreen to break. As quick as I could I put my helmet on, the suction and broke my safety belt and I got sucked out with scattered glass like an ant caught in a vacuum. The shattered glass drifted around me, I watched the space shuttle drift off in the distance and eventually explode, along with any chance of making it home alive.

Remaining Life Support, zero minutes and 30seconds

Twenty-four hours of oxygen should be stored in each suit, maybe they will find this and adjust it. My time is up. There was so much I wanted to do – I am helpless and alone. I guess I am leaving this world how I came into it, an accident and gasping for oxygen.

Life Support Terminated.

Shit… my breath… is heavy… Goodbye… everyone… Thank you… This is Neil Armstrong… 1969… Apollo 11… …



#DWTSmith #Space

lost in space

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