Brevity, Word Choices & Bust My Buffers

Square

Sometimes I like to set myself the challenge of writing about a specific theme with a fixed word count. Just as an exercise in writing, because no matter how silly something is, it still needs tempo and careful word selection.

Later in this post, you’ll see an attempt from several years ago to write a 100-word piece of micro fiction related to Thomas the Tank Engine, with as many classic Thomas and Friends phrases slipped in as possible. Call it fan fiction…kind of.

When my son was little, we would spend hours and hours watching Thomas and Friends and playing with Plarail sets; lots of time making up Thomas bedtime stories based on random queues from a child with no intention of falling asleep: “Henry. Jam trucks. Snowy day.” “One more: Percy. Sunny day. Silly diesels.” The toddler, however, is now a teen. All the trains have moved on to depots elsewhere. The only physical remnant is a Thomas and Friends towel we use to dry our hound…named after one of Thomas’ friends.

I digress. For me, this kind of writing (as daft as it is) is also an exercise in knowing when to stop. Looking at the text as I’m formatting this post, I’m tempted to make changes, but with any writing (and especially super-short wordcounts) I know I have a tendency to go around in circles if I let the self-edit stage linger.

So, this was written with a self-imposed limit to the number of self-editing sessions, just as I would on deadline day for something that pays: because at some point, you have to trust you’ve done your best, hit send, and get on with something else.

Here’s the 100-worder:

The Accidents

It all began so innocently, sat on the living room floor, watching Thomas and Friends DVDs. An eager mind transported to the island of Sodor.

“Accident!” he’d call, every time a steamie crashed into a jam truck, his grubby little fingers pointing excitedly at the screen.

“Accident!” as he’d ram his toy trains into each other, causing the Fat Controller to declare all manner of confusion and delay.

Mum and dad looked on with adoration in their eyes. No idea what they’d set in motion. Clueless to the carnage he’d create in years to come.

Real trains.

Bust my buffers.