What Neil Gaiman Did Right in His Short Story “Orange”

Form or story? 

Which one matters most? 

I’ve come to realize that neither can exist without the other: Both are necessary to engage readers.
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In Neil Gaiman’s short story “Orange'', he perfectly illustrates this balance between concept and form. Written in the style of responses to an investigator’s written questionnaire, Gaiman tells a captivating story unified with an equally brilliant form.

We follow seventeen-year-old Jemma as she recounts the story of her scientist mother and younger sister, Lilias, who swallows one of her mother’s orange dyes and transforms into a glowing orange creature. When things begin to get out of hand, an alien spaceship arrives and takes Lilias, promising to keep her safe. It took a lot of re-reading to understand what exactly happened in the story. Admittedly, summarizing it makes it sound a lot more strange. Let’s have a look at what makes this wacky story so engaging, and how you can apply these principles into your own story. 

What Neil Gaiman Did Right

1. He utilized form to his advantage to create a compelling and interesting read. 

I’ve read plenty of stories with weird forms — grocery lists, AI scripts, letters, you name it. But never have I read a story in the form of the written responses to an investigator’s questionnaire. So yes, I’m a bit of a form junkie, which was the reason why I initially gave this short story a try. But in the end, it was because of the way Gaiman took the form and unified it with his concept that made it so clever. Anyone can write a story with a unique form, but to tie it in with an equally brilliant and fitting concept is a whole other struggle. 

In “Orange” it’s easy to identify the balance. Without the form, we would have just had a wacky short story — one that may have also been too long for the format. Without the story, we would have just had a wacky form — one that had no unifying content to make it worthwhile. The two work with each other purposefully and intentionally. Similar to yin and yang: one does not exist without the other. 

So how can we apply this yin-yang balance to our own stories? If you’re a novel writer, the weirder the form, the harder it is to maintain. But form does not always have to be wacky and unseen ways of telling a story. It can also be format, POV, description and prose related. Here are a few things you can consider to enhance the form in your story and bring out the concept. 

• Is there a way to tell this story that is unique to the concept? For example, if your story follows a character who uses photography as their main means of expression, try telling their story in short vignette-styled snapshots to illustrate that. 

 

• What point of view am I using? Does it best aid in telling the story I want to tell? Say you’re writing a story that follows a main character and his or her interactions with a group. Maybe first person collective might tell that story better than first or third would. Many instinctively pick whichever POV they’re most comfortable without considering if that POV would benefit the story. 

 

• If you are unable to change your story on a huge narrative-leveled scale, ask yourself: What are some small, stylistic choices I can use to enhance my already existing concept? A good example: I once read a story about a boy who disliked commas and so the entire story, to remain true to the character, was written without a single comma. Another example is from Chaos Walking, a triology that takes place in a world where the inner voices of all men are projected out loud. To illustrate when Todd, the main character, had a thought he wanted to keep silenced, the author wrote it in brackets. There are several ways to bring out your concept using small, stylistic choices. 

Form does not always have to be crazy or change your whole narrative structure. Depending on the genre you write, the omission of a single word can also be a stylistic choice that enhances your concept. 


      2. He cleverly found a way to share information without infodumping

Because of the form, Gaiman found a way to give information to readers without doing the dreaded “infodumping”. We were aware of the main character’s first name (Jemma Glorfindel Petula Ramsey), her last few living locations, and a recount of her family’s past, all in a few bullet points. In a more traditional narrative, this information would have been unnecessary but integrated into this format, it’s clever and fitting. 

Here are some ways to avoid infodumping:

1. Recognize what kind of infodumping you are doing (or are prone to do). Do you tend to have emotional infodumps, where the main character rambles about her feelings, backstory infodumps, where you fill in bits of sometimes unnecessary backstory within the narrative, or is it world building infodumps, where you give details about your world? Think about which type of infodumping occurs where in your story and the different solutions you can use to solve each one. 
   
2. For backstory, try using character reactions and subtext to hint at the past. If you want to be more explicit, utilize flashbacks. For emotional infodumps, use dialogue, subtext, and ambiguity to let your readers fill in the blanks. For world-building infodumps, sprinkle in small bits of information woven in with character interactions when necessary. 
   

Gaiman shows us that infodumping is not always bad when used in a way that fits with the story. It’s important to give some credit to your readers once in a while and let them figure things out for themselves. 


      3. He gave specific, concrete details

Specificity is a writing tool that is especially important in short fiction. “Orange” reminds us that specificity does not necessarily mean illustrative, magical prose. It can be achieved through the usage of a concrete detail. Consider the following examples: 

13. Artificial tanning creams. You couldn’t go near her for hours after she put it on. And she’d never give it time to dry after she smeared it on her skin, so it would come off on her sheets and on the fridge door and in the shower leaving smears of orange everywhere. 

16. German measles, mumps, and I think Marshall had chicken pox when he was staying in Orlan.

We are given specific, sort of odd details about the situation. Are these details necessary for readers to know? Probably not. But do they shape the narrative and make her life more believable? Absolutely! The little details Gaiman planted added humour and voice to the narrative. 

Read one of my previous posts for some tips on how and where to add specificity in your own narrative (plus a little analysis of another favourite short story of mine): The Importance of Specificity.

     4. He left out details to create intentional and intriguing ambiguity

One of the things that worked well with the form was how much intriguing ambiguity it created. Readers got some great laugh-out-loud lines like these: 

7. Several times a day. 
8. No
33. The next morning. All of us.
70. Until the day I die.

The fun thing about this format is that you have the answers, but not the questions. And so these ambiguous responses create humour and intrigue. It allows readers to read a little between the lines, look for context, and connect the dots. In fiction, ambiguous language can be used as a tool to convey hidden meanings and allow readers to think subtextually. Ambiguity can be used to: 

• Create intrigue. It can be applied to final sentences of chapters, short stories or novels whether cliff-hanger or resolution. Using ambiguity in a final scene can leave your ending off open and allow readers to speculate. 
• Hint at a full fleshed story. In fiction, ambiguity can also be used as the bread crumbs you are leaving for your reader on the trail. They hint at the bigger picture but also offer enough a small taste that urge your readers to keep flipping those pages. 

While these four things weren’t the only thing that made “Orange” such a great read, they were certainly a big part. These are all broad concepts that can be applied to your own writing. Gaiman expertly utilized specificity, form and ambiguity to create a thought-provoking story — a must-read and a lesson for both readers and writers. 

So what are you waiting for? When you know of a short story written in the form of a subject response to an investigator’s written questionnaire, you read it — no questions asked. Don’t wait any longer: Go read “Orange” right now. 

Mashal Ashfaq

is a high-school student based in Canada. A writer of mainly short fiction and non-fiction, Mashal enjoys editing and anything to do with the micro aspects of literature.  When she is not writing she can be found spending time with family, going on walks, or binging grammar books. Follow her on Instagram @mashalashfaqofficial.