A new Beaufort-based website aims to bring the short story back to the forefront of American culture.

Do your remember the first short story that really knocked your socks off? For me, it was ‘The Lottery,’ by Shirley Jackson. I think I was in middle school – maybe 7^th grade? – and I still get a shiver up my spine when I recall that mysterious black box (a ‘symbol’, or was it a ‘metaphor’?), and that shocker of an ending that sneaks up on you… despite the author’s masterful use of “character’ and ‘foreshadowing’. Later, I would discover the creepy pleasures of Edgar Allen Poe… the gentle irony of O. Henry… the beautiful freaks of Flannery O’Connor… There was something so elegant – so intensely immediate – about this art form. If a novel was a big, tasty layer cake to be savored over time, the short story was a square of rich, bittersweet chocolate. The perfect literary snack.

But then I stopped eating – er, reading – them. After grad school, my English Major days behind me, I turned in my tattered Norton anthologies and the short story became a thing of my past. According to publishing industry statistics, I was not alone.  Over the last few decades, the short story has seen a major decline in popularity.

Enter Beaufort’s Tim Johnston, who has just launched Short Story America, a website that hopes to rescue this neglected literary form, bringing it back into the mainstream of American culture. The former headmaster of Beaufort Academy, a talented short story writer himself, recently talked to me about his new venture.

ME:  Tim, when was the ‘golden age’ of the short story… and what’s changed since then?

TJ: The heyday of the short story started in the 19^th century with Washington Irving (‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’ and ‘Rip Van Winkle’) and ran through the first three quarters of the 20th century. Throughout those generations, short story writers were like rock stars! They were such a prime source of entertainment before the complete dominance of television.”

ME: Okay, but now that we’ve got television, and so many other entertainment forms – not to mention actual rock stars – why bring back the short story? What’s the point?

TJ: Television, computers, and hand-held gadgets have made it very easy to access passive entertainment. But reading stories is active, participative entertainment. Readers are challenged to use their imagination – and their souls – in applying a story to their own situation or their society.

The short story didn’t lose popularity because authors forgot how to write stories that entertain, move and matter.  Rather, modern technology, over time, has made it seem like harder work to read a short story than, say, to follow gossip entertainment or trade text messages in shorthand.  So the short story has been shoved to the cultural sidewalk while, in the words of a long-time literary editor, a dumbed-down culture of faddism “goose steps down Main Street.” That's quite a scary analogy, but it truly is a threat to our society when people don't engage in meaningful reading from adolescence all the way through old age.

ME: Now you’re speaking my language, Tim. I’ve written extensively in this column about our dumbed-down, faddish culture, the instant gratification generation, and other contemporary bogeymen. In this light, it occurs to me that your project is about more than just reviving a fading art form… it’s about cultural renewal. How do you draw scattered, distracted young people – with miniscule attention spans – away from twittering, text messaging and superficial celebrity gossip, toward more meaningful engagement with the world of ideas? It seems to me that you start “small,” right? You challenge them, but you don’t ask them to bite off more than they can chew. As I mentioned earlier, a good short story is the perfect literary snack (albeit a “nutritious” one).

TJ:  Exactly. Edgar Allan Poe described the short story as having a "singular effect" on the reader, one that can be profound and lasting.  The best short stories do three things, in my view, and they do them in one sitting: They entertain, move and matter to the thinking individual who reads them and incorporates them into his character, even subconsciously.  Good short stories have no waste, no fluff, no filler.  I love that.  Such can be said very rarely about novels, and I love novels!

ME:  And who knows? A kid who starts out reading at Short Story America might like what he sees and be inspired to check out longer literary forms. And shorter forms, too, like poetry.

So how does it “work”? You have twin daughters at home and you have to make a living. What’s your business plan?

TJ:  Our plan is that the company's revenue will come from tasteful advertising, the sale of audio short stories, and Kindle downloads.  (We plan to help the local economy by producing our audio stories here in the Beaufort area.)  Another source of revenue will be institutional memberships. Schools will pay membership dues of just $100 per year, which will enable their faculty to access lesson plans, sample essay questions, etc. at the site Educators section.  School memberships will also enable the students at member schools to enter the annual Short Story America national short story writing contests, which will be held at the Middle School, High School, College and Graduate School levels.  Each school's champion will move to the national finals, and will be published in our Student Short Story Library for the rest of the world to discover the young emerging talent at our nation's schools.  This will be really exciting in every school community.

ME:  So then, as a former headmaster, Short Story America is kind of a natural progression for you, career-wise, right?

TJ:  This progression feels as natural to me as the connection between teaching and writing.  I love the fact that a teacher can simply direct students to go to the website, read an assigned story, write in their journals, and (if the teacher wishes) print the story for use in class discussion, highlighting, margin notes, etc., without having to mark up an expensive book.  Short stories are the perfect literature about which to write analytical essays, because students can read them in one sitting, and teachers can move directly into discussion and then on into the nitty-gritty of student writing: the analytical essay.  Colleges complain (and rightly so) that today's freshmen are not arriving on campus with the ability to write meaningful, persuasive and mechanically correct analytical essays.  Increasing the use of short stories in the classroom is an ideal way of increasing both the frequency of essay-writing and the enjoyment of literature on the part of students.  As Aristotle wrote, "We are what we repeatedly do; excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit."  Every student can become a good writer, if he/she reads every day, and is led to enjoyable, meaningful reading by teachers and parents from early ages forward.

ME: Your former teaching colleague Sarah Turocy is your co-editor at Short Story America. She no longer lives in Beaufort. How did she get involved?

TJ: I've held Sarah in the highest regard ever since hiring her back in 2004 to teach English and be the founding director of the theater program at BA.  I guess you could say we're both dreamers and optimists, and as career English teachers, we both embraced the vision of a much-needed addition to our culture: a worldwide publishing project which would aid in returning the short story to mainstream culture as reading entertainment for everyone, and to assist teachers with resources for students as readers, thinkers and writers.

ME:  You gained readers from 13 countries and 37 US states in your first week online. You’re drawing lots of comments on your discussion boards – people talking about stories from your “Classics Library” as well as the “Story of the Week,” which is always something new, chosen by the editors from a quickly growing pile of submissions.

I’m still thinking about your haunting story “Friday Afternoon,” which was featured as the first Story of the Week. One reader called it a “short story masterpiece… right up there with ‘The Lottery’ and ‘The Most Dangerous Game.’” Another reader was “completely blown away,” and compared you to her favorite writer, Stephen King. I’m curious about your literary influences, Tim. What are some of your favorite short stories?

TJ:  ‘Winter Dreams’ by F. Scott Fitzgerald… ‘Cathedral’ by Raymond Carver… ‘The Short Life of Francis Macomber’ by Ernest Hemmingway… ‘A Good Man is Hard to Find’… by Flannery O’Connor, just to name a few. If you had the space, I could name at least 50 short stories that are absolutely indispensable, and I would still only be scratching the surface of this valuable part of living well by reading well.

ME: Thanks so much, Tim. I know all my readers join me in wishing you great luck in this new endeavor. A good website is hard to find

Become a member of Short Story America by visiting www.shortstoryamerica.com

Read More Rants & Raves

By Margaret Evans

Original sin notwithstanding, children seem to have an innate sense of right and wrong. Take, for instance, my daughter’s reaction when I explained the premise behind the popular TV show “The Bachelor.”

“Ewwww,” she cried, clamping her hands over her ears. “That sounds dreadful! Dreadful and foul!” (Nice vocabulary for an eight-year-old, eh?) I was relieved; that attitude would make it easier to keep her away from the TV and otherwise occupied while I conducted my “research” that night. Having only seen a few snippets of the show over the years – and having noticed several anticipatory posts about it on Facebook – I’d resolved to watch the season premier of “The Bachelor” in its entirety. All two hours’worth. Thought my column could use a little lightening up in the new year, and this seemed like perfect fodder. I had persuaded my husband to join me in my viewing experiment, with a solemn promise that we could flip back and forth to the football game.

At some point, about halfway through the show, Jeff looked at me with glazed eyes and muttered, in a slightly menacing monotone, “Just so you know… I am never. Ever. Watching this again.”

He was preaching to the choir.

Not that I found “The Bachelor” boring. Not hardly. In fact, I found it strangely riveting. In the same way a train wreck is riveting. Or a cock fight. Or a slasher movie. You know that something terribly wrong is happening, and that you really shouldn’t be watching, but you can’t tear yourself away. Well, I couldn’t anyway. As this bizarro fairytale unfurled, I couldn’t bear to miss a single ridiculous, embarrassing moment. I nearly hyperventilated every time Jeff switched channels during commercials. “Who cares about the ball game?” I snapped, grabbing the remote and clutching it to my chest. I simply had to see who got those roses! And who didn’t. It was not my finest hour. (Or two.)

But perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself. Perhaps there are still a few of you out there who – like me, ‘til now – know virtually nothing about this hit show, now in its 14^th season. For ye, the pure of heart, let me recap. “The Bachelor” is defined by Wikipedia as a “reality television dating game show.” The cast consists of a star (the bachelor), and an ever-dwindling bunch of co-stars (attractive young women who vie for his affections week after week). If I’m not mistaken, at the end of each episode, a certain number of women receive a single rose from our star. Those who do not receive a rose are out. Kaput. Banished.

The season premiere took place in a fancy-schmanzy Hollywood mansion, which I gather will house the bachelor – a cute, clean-cut flyboy named Jake – throughout the season. As the episode began, we were treated to beefcake images of a rippling, chiseled Jake flying his plane, riding his motorcycle, strolling on the beach, and whatnot. The scenes were punctuated by an earnest voiceover from Jake, who we learned is a Hopeless Romantic, ready to Settle Down, seriously searching for The One. He seems quite certain he will find The One here on “The Bachelor.” With 10 million viewers tuned in.

We then met Jake’s co-stars, 25 lovely young women from across the country, all with their hearts set on becoming Mrs. Jake. And snagging as much camera time as possible. They are models and fitness trainers, dancers and sales reps. There is a school teacher who seems nice. The most appealing woman by far – prettiest, smartest and most interesting – is a pilot, like Jake. (Maddeningly – and inexplicably – she gets almost no face time all night, and is ousted at the end of the first episode.)

After their brief bios, these women pull up to the mansion in limos, and one by one, they shimmy forward in tiny dresses and introduce themselves to Jake, who’s standing there in a suit with a Mr. Nice Guy smile pasted on. Seriously… he “meets cute” with 25 women, one after another, and the smile never wavers. Each woman is given a few seconds to make a dazzling first impression. They make bad jokes. Suggestive comments. One squeezes Jake's triceps and asks, “Are these guns registered?” Another compliments his “rock-hard abs.” Yet another trips on her stilletos and falls into his arms. And still, the bachelor smiles on. One wonders if his jaw is registered.

The rest of the episode is just… creepy. Jake hosts a party there at his Bachelor Pad, during which the 25 women compete shamelessly for “alone time” with the star. One drags him outside to throw a football. Another shows him pictures of her young son, who needs a daddy. Still another dons a wee stewardess uniform to capture his attention. (Get it? Jake’s a pilot!) At the end of what feels like a lifetime – a very long, surreal lifetime – Jake presents roses to his 15 favorites. Their ranks will continue to narrow each week, I’m told, until only The One is left standing. To the ten teary-eyed women cast off in the season opener, Jake offered this gentle consolation: “It’s nothing personal.”

Nothing personal? Well, of course not. How could it be? How can anything as profoundly “personal” as a committed, lifelong relationship – a marriage, for crying out loud – possibly spring from this silly, vapid show? According to my research, in 14 seasons, it hasn’t happened. There have been plenty of proposals, even some engagements, but none has resulted in a wedding. Which is, I suppose, cause for hope. But only a little.

Those who worry that marriage is being “redefined” by recent referendums and court decisions seem to be overlooking a glaring truth: Marriage has already been redefined, and homosexuals had nothing to do with it. If you look at our divorce rate (half of all marriages), together with the growing number of people – especially parents – never bothering to get married, an interesting (and to some, sobering) picture emerges. What was once inarguably the “building block” of civilization – an institution primarily for the raising and nurturing of the next generation, and, secondly, for lifelong caring and companionship – has become something else entirely. We still say “till death do us part,” but what many of us really mean is: “Till boredom, frustration, or somebody more interesting, do us part.”

Are shows like “The Bachelor” actually hastening the demise of marriage – making light of that which ‘should not be entered into lightly’ – or are they merely following along behind that trend, reflections of our confused (and confusing), rapidly changing value system? Bachelor Jake has been blogging about his adventure for People magazine, and his entry below speaks volumes, I think, about our relationship culture today – a motley patchwork of noble expectations, narcissistic desires, worn-out cliches, New Age nostrums, and other crazy contradictions. Apparently, in episode two, one of the bachelorettes was caught cozying up to a show staffer and booted from the series. Jake, sounding genuinely heartbroken, reflects on these events here:

“This is the first time I have been cheated on (to my knowledge) and man, it sucks. I had started to develop feelings for Rozlyn and that’s why I had given her a rose. But what also hurt was the fact that I was friends with the staff member who engaged in the affair. That was hard to swallow. I was so hurt by both of their decisions, but I reminded myself that I still had 14 amazing women there for me, so I composed myself and moved on.”

When you get past the absurdity, there’s something very sad, and a little touching, about this paragraph. Jake was “developing feelings” for Rozelyn? They’d met briefly at a party! On TV! She “cheated” on him? He’s dating 14 other women! He feels betrayed by his “friend,” a staffer on the show? The dude was probably paid to stir up this controversy!

Here’s a guy who clearly fancies himself an old-school Romantic Lead, using traditional language of courtship and love to describe a scenario that might be better told in rhyming slang. To a backbeat. By P. Diddy. On the show, you’ll hear him trot out all the right phrases – how much he “respects women” and appreciates the “sanctity of marriage” – and he really seems to mean them. All the while, he’s flashing his big white teeth and rock-hard abs in a weekly televised meat market.

Is Jake in the throes of an identity crisis? Are we all?

Oh, never mind. This was supposed to be a “light” column. I guess I’m not so good at those. I told a friend I was writing about ‘The Bachelor,’ and he quipped, “I’m sure you’ll find a way to tie it to the general decline of humanity.” I hate being so predictable.

So I make no pronouncements about humanity here. I will simply leave you with this warning: “The Bachelor” is not good for you. If TV shows were food, it would be a super-sized bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos. Nacho Cheese Doritos are disgusting. They’re empty calories. They leave a bad taste in your mouth. You feel guilty after eating them, and sometimes even sick. But they’re yummy, too, in a wicked sort of way, and you could probably scarf a whole bag in one sitting. This is why you just don’t keep them in the house.