Flash Feature: Noa Sivan

You should be reading flash fiction. I’ve seen it defined a few different ways, but the one which seems most consistent is that flash fiction is fiction with a word count under 1,000. Good flash fiction packs the entire emotional journey of a short story or a novel in a tight space. But it doesn’t feel rushed or unfinished; it feels like you’ve opened a window into something unexpected and quick.

We keep hearing about how our attention spans are shorter, how we’re bombarded with more content than ever before. If reading a novel is docking your ship in a friendly port after a terrible storm, then reading flash fiction is finding a sudden calm spot in a raging sea. However, even within that calm spot, there are myriad choices: which publications do I choose? In which authors do I invest my time? Flash Feature will answer those questions by showcasing different publications or authors which specialize in creating magic in 1,000 words or less.

Noa Sivan

English is not Sivan’s first language. Originally from Israel, she only started writing in English in 2016. A striking fact considering her stories convey a powerful urgency and carry a strong emotional core. She uses words efficiently, the mark of all talented flash fiction writers.

“It was a steamy August day. The beach town was chock-full of tourists. That was expected, but there used to be seasons. An order. Now it was one long, tiring period, where you were surrounded by drunken baked potatoes. They moved there in winter and decided to leave every summer. They could work from anywhere. But that was three years ago and anywhere became nowhere.”

This paragraph from her piece “Bananas on the Roof” published in (b)OINK in 2017, demonstrates how Sivan lures you to assume simplistic tones before delivering depth. Her succinct voice—“That was expected, but there used to be seasons. An order.”—and sparse descriptions such as “drunken baked potatoes” takes you by the hand and leads you toward the paragraph’s logical yet surprising ending “and anywhere became nowhere.”

This is a relatable position for anyone, whether they’ve lived the character’s experience or not.

As an author, Sivan often tackles women’s battles through visceral narratives that linger long after you’ve closed the tab or scrolled away. You’ll be sitting at your desk, writing an email when suddenly a phrase, an image will make an uninvited appearance.

“There’s no white room and clean sheets at the end of this procedure. It’s violent and bloody and I’m awake throughout this whole slow-motion abortion. I cry a lot. It occurs to me that I’m allowed to grieve.”

In her most recent piece “We Inherit Our Grandmothers’ Traumas As Well As Their Eyes” published in Jellyfish Review in July 2018, we’re treated to a story that’s not pretty or neat. It’s blunt and filled with sharp edges which cut. Halted pacing is created by the use of short sentences with little to no punctuation. The technique establishes a narrator who’s unsure of how all the pieces of her life fit into a larger whole. This is a relatable position for anyone, whether they’ve lived the character’s experience or not.

Themes of imperfect (read: realistic) people struggling with generational and romantic relationships have embedded Noa Sivan’s spartan tales and effortless words firmly in my mind. Often, I read and reread her last paragraphs, savoring the impact, good to the last drop. I look forward to seeing how she will stretch and pull the English language in unpredictable directions next. Several of her stories are available through links on her website. I urge you to explore her tales like she explores writing—with abandon, holding nothing back.

I also highly recommend visiting Tommy Dean's website for a mini-interview with Sivan about her writing process.