When I was six years old, I went to a birthday party where party favors were little wrapped presents. My best friend chose hers first, picking out the biggest package. She opened it only to find an ugly nylon-and-Velcro wallet. I was last to choose and got the smallest package, but inside was the most beautiful little necklace, complete with a plastic pink jewel. Lucky me. Bigger is not necessarily better as I have discovered in my quest to perfect the art of the micro-essay. See my latest #cnftweet in Creative Nonfiction's August newsletter.