STORY WRITING

(Short Story)

Definition:
The short story is a literary genre. It is usually fictional
narrative prose and tends to be more concise and to the
point than longer works of fiction, such as novellas (in
the modern sense of this term) and novels.

Short stories tend to be less complex than novels.

Usually, a short story will focus on only one incident, has
a single plot, a single setting, a limited number of
characters, and covers a short period of time.

CONTENTS OF A SHORT STORY

• Exposition
• Complication
• Crisis
• Climax
• Resolution
CONTENTS:
• Exposition: exposition is the introduction of setting, situation
and main characters.

• Complication: complication is the event of the story that

introduces the conflict.

• Crisis: crisis is the decisive moment for the protagonist and

their commitment to a course of action.

• Climax: the point of highest interest in terms of the conflict and

the point of the story with the most action.

• Resolution: resolution is the point of the story when the

conflict is resolved.

DRAMA

Drama is the specific mode of fiction

represented in performance. It is derived from a Greek word meaning
"action" derived from "to do".
 HERO
• Tragic Hero

• Modern Hero

Tragic Hero (Aristotelian tragic hero)

Aristotle once said that "A man doesn't
become a hero until he can see the root of his own downfall." An
Aristotelian tragic hero must have four characteristics:

1. Nobility (of a noble birth) or wisdom (by virtue of birth).

2. Hamartia (translated as flaw or error of judgment).
3. A reversal of fortune(peripeteia) brought about because of the
hero's Hamartia.
4. The discovery or recognition that the reversal was brought about
by the hero's own actions (anagnorisis).

Modern Hero
A modern hero is often simply an ordinary person
in extraordinary circumstances, who, despite the odds being stacked
against him or her, typically prevails in the end. The hero may exhibit
characteristics such as superhuman strength and endurance that
sometimes makes him nearly invincible.
NAME: Muhammad Umar

Registration number: BE-307-044

SECTION: A

SUBJECT: Communication Skills

SUBMITTED TO: Miss Fareeha

 “SHORT STORY”

With the Eid holidays

over and our lives returning to their usual boring
routines, I would like to discuss the unusual happenings
of that important day. I went to offer the Eid prayers and
after finishing them I went to the graveyard to offer
fateha for my loved ones. That was all as planned. What
happened next was probably one of the most frightening
and horrific incidents I have or will ever witness in my
entire life.

I went out to spend

some time with my friends, till noon we were laughing
and sharing jokes, talking about how much Eidi we had
collected and what we were going to do from that money.
Then suddenly I had an idea. I told my friends that
instead of sitting idly and chatting we should have a
bicycle race on the roads. We were all experts at cycling.
All of us could perform 360s if given a ramp and could
wheelie our way from one end of the road to the other;
in short we were the coolest bicyclers in our area.
Anyway we got ready with our bicycles and met outside
my house. I, with my friends Uzair, Bilal and Zohaib,
started our marathon from my house and had to take
specific streets with bumpy roads, go around the Eidgah
ground beating the traffic of the main road and return to
my house using a very narrow street. This may sound
very dangerous but to us it was a piece of cake or so we
thought.

That was not our first

marathon. We had done stuff like that many times so we
started off very cool indeed with every one of us
pedalling our energy and trying to outrun the other. We
made it to the Eidgah at 12.30 and reached the main
road some five minutes later. At this moment every one
of us was panting like dogs and sweating profusely. The
road was almost empty with only a few cars and four
bicycles on it. Uzair was leading, with me right on his tail.
I took my eyes off the road for merely a second to see
where my other two friends were and found them right
behind me jamming their brakes and moving to the left
while simultaneously pointing to me to get out of the
way. As I looked back on the road, I saw a taxi speeding
towards me at a very high speed indeed. My reflexes
were not fast enough to get me out of the way and as my
front tire hit the taxis bumper I was thrown off my bike
and my head crashed into the windscreen of the taxi and
all went dark.

The next thing I knew

was waking up in the hospital with a big swollen head
and a bandage wrapped on the wound. My mother heard
me stirring and shouted out with joy that I had woken up
and my father emerged through the door and his face
was filled with joy to see me conscious. When I asked my
mother, who was sitting beside me, what time it was she
told me that it was 7.30pm of the second day of Eid.

I felt so distressed after

hearing these words from my mom. Not only had I
missed the first day of Eid which was the biggest
gathering of my family at my house but I had also
destroyed my family’s Eid. I not only thought about how
reckless I had been in causing that accident but also
about how my parents’ had sacrificed their Eid for me.

JAWAD’S STORY

She looked simply gorgeous. Her emerald green

jora was really mesmerising. Her soft green eyes
twinkled with happiness and the blush on her rosy
cheeks was the evidence of the fact that it was
Nimal’s engagement day.

It was indeed a big day — a day which Mr and Mrs

Sheikh had been waiting for since Nimal’s first cry.
Nimal was their only daughter and was the most
precious thing in the world to them. They wanted
to make her engagement a memorable
experience. Mr Sheikh’s heart swelled with pride
while preparing for a delightful event. Mrs Sheikh
was busy decorating the great hall with the
wreath of flowers which looked beautiful.

Soon the sun set; the great hall looked

glamorous. There were hundreds of bulbs which
shone brightly making the hall heaven on earth.
As the twilight faded and the grandfather clock in
the hall struck eight, the special guests arrived.
Nimal’s going to be fiancé looked really handsome
in his black sherwani. His hazel eyes were even
more charismatic. Mr and Mrs Sheikh gave them a
hearty welcome and showered tons of rose petals
on them.

Mr Sheikh kissed Taj’s forehead and led him and

his fellows to the great hall. They were
overwhelmed by such heavy lights. The glow of
the heavy bulbs and the decoration was beyond
Taj’s expectation. Taj wondered why Karachi
suffers from the problem of load-shedding.

Well, they all sat and admired the beautiful hall,

when at last the life of the event made her
entrance. Nimal looked even lovelier, her jora
shimmered and her sandals twinkled. Taj gazed at
his going-to-be fiancé with an open mouth while
everyone in the hall was stunned too. Taj’s best
friend Nomy who was also awe-struck nudged him
saying, “Yeh sab lighton ka kamal hai” Taj
chuckled and stood to welcome Nimal, who
blushed even more and her friends helped her to
be seated.

Taj’s mother hugged her tightly saying Bismillah

she handed Taj the engagement ring. The
diamonds and sapphires on the ring twinkled. Taj
took Nimal’s hand in his hand. Taj was going to
put the ring on Nimal’s finger when suddenly
something happened… something which you and I
or any one living in Karachi would know: as often
and as usual by the law of KESC, the lights went
off… Yes — once again KESC reported a power
failure. The hall that once shimmered and
glimmered in lights, drowned at once in complete
darkness.

The ring dropped with a cling on the floor and Mr

Sheikh fainted.

“Aap ki khushion mein aap ka sathi sirf KESC”