In our Literary Terms series, we examine the definitions of frequently used (and misused) words. What is the difference between horror and terror? Apocalyptic and dystopian? Magical realism, science fiction, and fantasy? In this series, we tackle questions such as these. Today, we present our full Literary Terms archive so that you can refresh your vocabulary for the new year. So go ahead: dive in, and enjoy!

Horror and Terror

Terror is the feeling of dread and apprehension at the possibility of something frightening, while horror is the shock and repulsion of seeing the frightening thing.

Internal Monologue and Stream of Consciousness

Stream of consciousness is a narrative device that is the written equivalent to a character’s thought process—or a stylized way of thinking out loud. It is often written in first person and is less ordered and occasionally more jumbled than an internal monologue, which is most often written in third person and follows a slightly more structured flow of thoughts to depict a characters’ opinions of his environment.

Legend, Myth, and Fairy Tale

Legends, myths, and fairy tales all have a place in folklore, the main difference between them being content, and whether or not that content has a historical basis.

Apocalyptic, Dystopian, and Post-Apocalyptic

The future of mankind has been imagined and reimagined in literature for decades, but it seems lately there has been an influx of stories on the topic . . . we’ll examine three end-of-the-world terms that are often used synonymously, but are really quite different.

Magical Realism, Science Fiction, and Fantasy

Magical realism, science fiction, and fantasy all construct their own unique realities in different ways. It may seem like it would be easy to distinguish these genres, but the lines are not as clear as you might think.

Gothic, Grotesque, and The Uncanny

Here at TMR, we love scary stories, and it is useful to examine the vocabulary we use to describe the fiction that frightens us.

Flash Fiction

Flash fiction is generally considered to be a story of 1000 words or less (though there is even some debate about this), but within this category alone there are several subsets.

Symbol, Motif, Theme

All three of these nouns take residence in one another, making their distinctions difficult, but each one has its own specific and correct use.

Narrative Nonfiction, Autobiography, and Memoir

There’s something special about excellent nonfiction, but the water gets muddy when you try to label works under its large umbrella.

Our Literary Terms series takes a close look at words that describe stories. Like when we examined the uncanny, the gothic, and the grotesque or when we looked at the difference between magical realism, science fiction, and fantasy. This week, we explore symbol, motif, and theme, and their differences. All three of these nouns take residence in one another, making their distinctions difficult, but each one has its own specific and correct use. Check it.

Symbol

A symbol is an object that is used to represent something else. For example, when we see a red light in traffic we know it means “stop”.  In literature, however, when a red light acts as a symbol it is used to convey an idea or emotion, like anger, death, or perhaps love. If a broken glass appears in a scene, for example, think about what the author might want us to understand, and if that symbol conveys something deeper about the story. If a glass breaks during a discussion about divorce it helps draw attention to, and in many ways represents, a fragmented family.

A symbol occurs only once in a story. However, when a series of related images or symbols appear, they reflect a motif.

Motif

A motif is a recurring element in a literary work, meaning the idea or image occurs again and again. When related images repeat to enhance or bring attention to an idea, you know you’ve identified the story’s motif. Take the shattered glass. Lets say a repeating symbol for brokenness appears many times as a series of related images: a crushed glass, a car that won’t start, a bad investment, or an injured pet. Each of these symbols occurs once, but services the larger motif of brokenness or fragmentation in the narrative.

Theme

Both symbols and motifs lead to a greater understanding of the story’s theme, which is the overall message, through-line, or lesson generated by the narrative. If symbols for brokenness appear as the story’s motif, what is the author trying to say about love, families, and relationships? If a child breaks the window of a misunderstood neighbor’s house, the author might be using this symbol to comment on the gaps in understanding between people who don’t know each other. If the glass that shatters during a marital spat is later cleared, that might reflect the couple’s choice to start anew. Love conquers all. Anger outweighs fear. You have to break something down to become stronger. All of these (somewhat cheesy) messages are presented by symbols generating a motif that informs the theme of the story.

These days, it seems like flash fiction has never been more popular. With many journals including separate submission categories for flash and still others, such as wigleaf and SmokeLong Quarterly, devoted entirely to the publication of small fictions—the short short story is (finally) getting its due. Many authors, such as Lydia Davis, Amelia Gray, Ben Loory, and Amber Sparks, have put out collections of flash fiction without explicitly labeling it as such. Flash fiction is generally considered to be a story of 1000 words or less (though there is even some debate about this), but within this category alone there are several subsets. The wonderful thing about flash fiction is that, aside from its length, it resists easy definition. There are limitless techniques that can be used in flash. So why label it at all? Well, you certainly don’t have to. But it can be fun. For example: did you know that there is something called a drabble? Sometimes putting a constraint of 1000 or 300 or even 25 words on a story is all you need to get the creative juices flowing.

Hint Fiction – Credit goes to Robert Swartwood for coining the term hint fiction as: “A story of 25 words or fewer that suggests a larger, more complex, story.” We were thrilled to get a chance to talk with Swartwood himself in this interview. Swartwood also edited the first-ever hint fiction anthology, and he explained to us what he believes makes a great piece of hint: “For me, a successful hint fiction story stands by itself. It’s not a first sentence or random sentence plucked out of a much larger work. In many ways, it has a beginning, middle, and end.” Here is a roundup of a few of our favorite hint fiction stories to read online.

Twitter Fiction – As the name suggests, twitter fiction refers to stories made up of 140 characters max that appear on the social media site, though it should be noted that these stories can often take the form of several tweets strung together. Swartwood rightly pointed out to us that the main difference between hint fiction and twitter fiction (besides the slight variance in length requirements) is that hint fiction has a title and twitter fiction doesn’t. In stories of this length, a title can make a big difference. You know that it is coming into the mainstream when Jennifer Egan publishes an entire story in The New Yorker composed, originally, as a series of tweets. You can read great articles on twitter fiction in The Atlantic and The Huffington Post.

Dribble and drabble – While these terms are not widely used, a drabble is generally acknowledged to be a story of precisely 100 words, a dribble a story of precisely 50. You will not find these definitions listed in Merriam-Webster, but still: they are pretty great.

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Today, we are pleased to present the Halloween edition of our Literary Terms series. Here at TMR, we love scary stories, and it is useful to examine the vocabulary we use to describe the fiction that frightens us.

Gothic Literature- Merriam-Webster defines Gothic as: adj., “of or relating to a style of writing that describes strange or frightening events that take place in mysterious places.” Gothic literature all started with with Horace Walpole’s novel Castle of Oronto in 1765, and the tradition was continued by writers such as Ann Radcliffe, and in classic horror stories like Frankenstein and Dracula. The genre itself was named after the architecture that inspired it: the medieval castles and ruins in which much of Gothic literature takes place, and which often play a vital role in the narrative’s plot. Gothic literature has evolved over the years to include subgenres such as Southern Gothic literature, which takes place in the American South and is associated with much-beloved authors Flannery O’Conner and William Faulkner, among others. The Gothic tradition continues today in the works of such writers as Joyce Carol Oates and Julia Elliott.

The Uncanny – What exactly is the uncanny? We can think of no one better to explain this slippery term and its history than Marjorie Sandor, who contributed an essay on the uncanny earlier this month. Read it here. A preview: “The sensation of uncanniness is, at its core, an anxiety about the stability of those persons, places, and things in which we have placed our deepest trust, and our own sense of identity and belonging. And what’s exciting about this for writers of fiction, poetry, and creative nonfiction, is that it invites us to practice uncertainty.”

The Grotesque – Nowadays, when people talk about “the grotesque,” their meaning is closer to its adjectival form: “very strange or ugly in a way that is not normal or natural.” The grotesque in literature focuses on the human body, and all the ways that it can be distorted or exaggerated: its aim is to simultaneously elicit our empathy and disgust. Very much like the uncanny, the grotesque draws its power from the combination of the familiar and the unfamiliar, or the familiar distorted. Gothic fiction often has elements of the grotesque, such as Mary Shelley’s monster in Frankenstein or the off-kilter characters in Flannery O’Conner’s stories. In its earlier iterations, the term “grotesque” was used in a way that overlapped more with “the uncanny,” referring to works that blurred the line between the real and the fantastic, such as Kafka’s “The Metamorphosis,” in which the human protagonist is transformed into an insect. It is interesting to see the ways in which these terms overlap, and it’s important to note that their exact “definitions” can be hard to nail down because of the way they have changed over time.

Terror and Horror – Terror and horror are often used interchangeably, but the two terms are actually quite different. Last year, Lincoln Michel contributed a brilliant essay on the difference between the two: “Terror is the feeling of dread and apprehension at the possibility of something frightening, while horror is the shock and repulsion of seeing the frightening thing. Terror is the sounds of unknown creatures scratching at the door; horror is seeing your roommate eaten alive by giant rats. Terror is the feeling a stranger may be hiding behind the door; horror is the squirt of blood as the stranger’s knife sinks in.”

What other terms do you use to talk about frightening fiction? Share in the comments.

The end of the world, a cataclysmic future, oppressive governments. The future of mankind has been imagined and reimagined in literature for decades, but it seems lately there has been an influx of stories on the topic. This week we’re looking at the apocalypse in fiction. To start it off, we’ll examine three end-of-the-world terms that are often used synonymously, but are really quite different.

Dystopian: According to Dictionary.com, the word dystopia means “an imaginary place where everything is as bad as it can be.” In a dystopian novel, characters live in a world that is heavily regulated by a government or code of conduct. Often this society is pitched as idyllic — think The Giver — but is soon exposed for its rigid thinking or oppressive ideals. The popular Hunger Games trilogy or Fahrenheit 451 are excellent examples. In dystopian novels, the protagonist usually rebels against the status quo by exposing its flaws, escaping the world entirely, attempting to take it over, or initiating a new set of rules. Dystopian novels become difficult to classify because they often take place after a large societal restructuring, usually because of a global event. In this way they might seem post-apocalyptic, but when the conflict of a novel focuses on the oppression of a government or set of ideas, rather than the direct consequences of a wide-spread tragedy, it is dystopian. Dystopian novels often focus on societies and cultures that appear stable and well established, whereas post-apocalyptic cultures are more imbalanced or volatile.

Apocalyptic: An apocalyptic novel tells the story of the end of the world, which occurs during the timeline of the story. The novels Outbreak and World War Z, or the movie Contagion, are good examples. In almost all apocalyptic stories life is threatened on a global scale: disease, natural disaster, war, or alien invasion, for example. The characters facing an apocalypse must try to outlive, outlast, or outsmart the hazards of a crumbling world, which is made increasingly unlikely when the majority of the population has fallen victim. It is common for apocalyptic novels to classify as “genre,” because the survival conflict is at the forefront of the story, making apocalyptic stories more plot driven than character based.

Post-Apocalyptic: After the zombies or super flu or nuclear war, the characters left to deal with the consequences are in a post-apocalyptic story. There are numerous examples: Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, I Am Legend, and the recent Station Eleven, The Dog Stars, and The Dead Lands all tell stories about people navigating a new and hostile world. The central conflict for characters in a post-apocalyptic story is managing the new physical, social, and cultural landscape left behind by a recent disaster. There are often fewer people and less established societies in post-apocalyptic novels, so the central conflict in these stories surrounds characters who are often fighting for resources or searching for other survivors.

Which end of the world story is your favorite? Do you have any favorite cross-genre end of the world novels? Tell us in the comments.