There are a thousand more or less poetic definitions of microstory. He has compared it to lightning, with a burst, with lightning. His suggestive and elliptical character, also his lyricism, his surprising endings, has been pointed out. It has been agreed, finally, that it is very difficult to define.
In this book, Ana María Shua experienced writer and reference in Spanish in the genre of microfiction opts for a practical definition: Microstory is a narrative text that has about three hundred words. And that apparent simplicity hides a world. It is a territory of porous borders, yes: the micro-story presents a plot, but it is not a story; in it every word has the weight of a rock, but it is not a poem; it can have wit and humor, but be careful to abuse the joke; it can be reflective, but it avoids the moral of the fables. In short: it is an art, but an art that can be learned.
Designed for those who seek to immerse themselves in the practice of micro-story writing, this manual that does not underestimate the reader, but also does not discourage it includes exercises, examples and suggested readings; places to find ideas that trigger writing (dreams, myths, legends, folk tales); possible formats (the dictionary, instructions, a tweet); advice and warnings: To be worthyly micro-relatist, try the story You have to be able to go back to the microstory because you feel that it is the gender in which you can best express yourself, and not because it is the only thing that comes out.
None of this wants to slash personal expression but, on the contrary, to release it to find a voice of its own, which makes these pages a writing manual in all its law, beyond gender. As the author says, the important thing is that the subject of her micro-story is that of her own experiences and fantasies, that of her imagination. [] You will be there with everything that is, what you think, what you feel. Of course, be brief.