The story behind the project
The Hundred Words Project sets one rule: every story must fit in a single paragraph of under a hundred words. I joined for a single month — and stayed for twelve, publishing one miniature story each week about bus stops, bad haircuts, last dances, and first snows.
The constraint became a superpower. With no room for throat-clearing, every word had to pull double weight. Three of the twelve were shortlisted for the project’s annual anthology; one, all of 61 words, remains the most-saved piece I’ve ever published.
How they were shaped
Each tale started as a 300-word sprawl, then went on a ruthless diet: adjectives first, then backstory, then every “very” and “really” ever typed. What’s left is image, turn, and landing — the whole architecture of fiction in miniature.
“He kept her voicemails for six years. Deleted them on a Tuesday. The quiet afterwards was the loudest thing he owned.”
—“Saved Messages”, 31 words
