A little more tweaking this evening perhaps, and I think my Three Minute Story is set to be sent off to NPR. Not sure if I should or not, I had my son, D, look over it. "Be gentle," I urged. What if his response led me to... oh, anything that created more work for myself. Tomorrow is the deadline, after all. He's leaving his until then. Show-off.
Later on he came to me and gave me some feedback and we discussed it. There were areas where I chose to be less than descriptive, and he looked for more details. He peppered me with questions, and I explained the intentions and purposes behind my choices. Then I left to meet a friend for an appointed coffee date, using the drive to muse and ponder.
I'm not sure what I'll do just yet. I don't know if I'll know until I return to my story and re-read it tomorrow morning. But I came to some realizations. With a word limit such as has been given, the temptation is to say, "Well, how much can you really expect to do within 600 words? I can't really create all I'd like to. It can't be done. I only have 600 words, after all." This is Point A.
But great writers work in another realm, Point B, and say, "I have to make it work within those 600 words." The limit is a fact from which creation is called forth and gives defining distinction to the form.
One who aspires to be a great writer reaches for Point B from Point A and responds, "I have to at least try to capture something original and real within these 600 words."