"With such a limited word count, it's best to focus on what can be implied by mundane objects, simple actions, and observations," says Faizah, winner of our August writing competition. "It's just best to leave some things unsaid."
Hear from all the winners of our Flash Fiction Competition as they explore how to read, write, and review in this unusual genre.
Faizah Tahsin Rupkotha, Age 17: Winner
The inspiration for this story comes from both my personal experiences and the media I consume. The day I wrote this piece, I was grocery shopping with my mother. I've always loved wandering through supermarkets, feeling oddly comforted by their aisles. One of my favourite books, Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner, also begins in a supermarket, the Asian-American chain H Mart. In the memoir, Zauner powerfully portrays food as a love language, as well as a source of grief following her mother’s passing. Her work inspired me to use the supermarket as a setting where feelings of loss and grief could surface. Given my unique love for supermarkets and the memories I’ve created there with my parents, it felt natural to set my story in one.
Another piece of media that shaped this story is Everywhere at the End of Time by British electronic musician Leyland James Kirby, also known as The Caretaker. This six-part project sonically captures the progression of dementia, with the music deteriorating from nostalgic and comforting to a harrowing, fragmented sound. The album reminded me of my grandfather, who experienced memory loss during the last years of his life. He struggled to recognize his own children; I remember how deeply this affected my aunts. As a child, I couldn’t grasp their grief, but now I understand that people often grieve the living just as much as they grieve the dead. We mourn friendships, relationships, pets, phases of life, and even sentimental objects. There is no end to our personal and collective grief. It only makes sense for us to share, process, and understand our loss and pain through the art we create.
I approach writing flash fiction by having a goal in mind. I had to keep asking myself, "What story do I want to tell?" throughout the writing process. You can weave the most beautiful, heartbreaking prose about grief, memory loss, and family, but there will never be enough words in the world to express feelings so all-consuming. Remembering this, I cut out the pretty adjectives and adverbs, the unnecessary articles and prepositions, and the filler that took up space and dimmed the heavy emotions I wanted to express.
Words have the power to hint at the inner workings of our minds as well as the literal motions we go through. With such a limited word count, it's best to focus on what can be implied by mundane objects, simple actions, and observations. It's just best to leave some things unsaid. I wanted the readers to fill in the gaps with their own memories and experiences, hopefully making the story resonate with many while keeping my word count short.
My writing process for the piece was to start by fleshing out the story without considering the word limit. Then, I reviewed it again and cut out any details that didn't feel necessary. I wanted to find the heart of the piece and focus simply on that. I tried to build tension by adding the most vivid details that I remembered. My piece is based on an actual experience my family faced with a wildfire, and I recalled what memories from that had stuck with me. Then, I constructed the piece around those core details.
My advice for young writers experimenting with flash fiction is to remember the point of your piece. Sometimes when working on a long poem or story, your intention for the piece can get lost in extra details. Flash fiction is about focusing solely on that main intention and seeing how effectively and efficiently you can convey it to the reader.
I like to think of writing a peer review as having a conversation with the writer. It’s like sitting across from them at a cozy café, talking about their story over a cup of coffee. My goal is to highlight what worked really well—those moments that made me go, "Whoa, that was clever!"—while also offering suggestions on what could be polished. I think it's important to start with praise because, let's face it, writing is hard, and everyone deserves recognition for their creative efforts. Once the writer knows what they’ve nailed, they’re more open to hearing about areas they could improve.
I try to be specific in my feedback. Rather than saying, “This part was confusing,” I’ll point out exactly where I felt lost and why. That way, it’s less of a vague critique and more of a helpful nudge. It’s all about keeping the balance—like a good cake recipe. You need the sweetness of praise but also a pinch of constructive feedback to make it work.
Absolutely! Reviewing flash fiction is a bit like solving a riddle—there’s so much packed into such a tiny space, and every word has to count. It's different from reviewing longer stories where you’ve got more room to explore characters and plot. With flash fiction, you’re looking for precision: Did the writer manage to create a complete world in just a few sentences? Did they leave just enough unsaid to keep you curious, but not so much that you’re totally lost?
In longer works, you have the luxury of giving feedback on pacing, character development, or themes that take time to unfold. In flash fiction, the feedback is more about impact—how quickly the story grabs you and whether it sticks with you after you’ve finished reading. Reviewing it is a bit more intense, but also really fun because it’s all about finding the power in those brief moments.