Novel, Novella, Short Story Part 2
In our last installment of “Novel, Novella, Short Story. What’s the difference?” We explored the key differences among the three for the reader. In Part 2, I’ll let you in on what makes them markedly unalike for the author, specifically this author, as I didn’t interview any others for this blog.
Writing is a solitary venture, one that could make the average Joe go quite mad. As it so happens, I crossed that line many moons ago, so nothing is lost.
Have you thought about the hints I left in Novel, Novella, Short Story Part 1? If you’re like 99.99% of the world’s population, you probably didn’t read Part 1, and if you’re like 99.999%, you aren’t here now, so perhaps I should change the topic to my paranoia...
But, no
I won't bore you with my madness. We’ll stick to the original plot and dive into what really sets these forms apart for the author.
What could a field of cows, a desolate freeway at night, and the Autobahn have in common?
Taken at face value, not much, but when you’re me, sitting on my couch about to pen what I hope will be my next (okay, fine, first) bestseller, it’s the difference between a meander in the woods, a fast pace on the asphalt, and an all-out run with a stalker at your back giving chase.
Novel
I love writing novels, that’s why I listed them first. I’ll have the baseline bones in mind before I begin to write, but once I have that, the sky is the limit for where the narrative is headed and how long it will take to finish. As I get to know the characters, they fill me in on the details. Sometimes they share basic things like hair and eye color or what they do for a living. Other times, they take sharp turns, blindsiding me with details so shocking enough to call out, “Whoa.”
Now we can't discount the possibility that I'm easily impressed, but this reaction might leave the reader the impression that writing novels is fast and furious, and the process is nothing like that. Novels are fun to write because they take their time. You have tens of thousands of words to write and rewrite, and oh, dear Lord, edit, and edit, and edit again, so no rush. It's similar to the feeling one gets when driving down a country lane and sees a cow.
Moo
The first thing you do is utter "Moo," and few sounds are as deliberate. Like the grassy knoll many a well-cared-for cow trods upon, novel writing is an off-the-beaten-trail trail traipse. The curves are wide and pleasant (like a cow's figure) to follow, with room to expand beyond its borders. Why stay with the lines when the surrounding territory welcomes you with the same invitation, "Come. Stay. Play with us. We'll create something uniquely our own to share with the world." It's an easy yes (or an intentional 'Moo').
Novella
Novellas remind me of driving on the expressway at night, like a Tuesday night, not a Saturday when you’re more likely to meet with trouble. You can drive with relative safety and ease, and none of that rush hour crap that causes stress, ulcers, and road rage. The length of the novella leaves plenty of time to convey the story, but less time to spend on the details. It says, “Get to the point,” in a British accent. And because you’re not British (probably not, anyway), you’re helpless not to comply, for no one can resist someone who speaks like royalty, even if you’ve caught them digging out of a dumpster.
The first three books in my Bryant Brothers Novella series were written in under two weeks, as I set a competition against myself (they can be the easiest or hardest to win, depending on the day) to write a novella within that time frame. Beachy Keen took ten days, The Cake Maker’s Dog took nine, and Glitter and Grief was finished in fourteen.
Believe me when I tell you, you can’t do that with a short story. At least I can’t. I’m mentioning short stories before I break down the short story process early because I’m stressed about it already. Nothing turns my creativity off faster than the words “short story," as nothing intimidates me more than driving at top speed.
It's impossible 🎶
Writing a short story is like driving on the Autobahn in Germany. At least, I think it would be similar, as I’ve never been to Germany, and I certainly wouldn’t be driving top speed on the Autobahn if I were. But there are things one can glean with a bit of information. To drive 120-plus miles per hour (not recommended - don’t do it!), one must put the pedal to the metal and hold on tight. It’s pretty much the same thing when writing a short story.
Brace yourself, Bridget. 🤭
I literally dig my heels into the ground, take a deep breath, and hope like holy hell that I can keep the thoughts in my brain straight enough to get them out before the word length cap closes in. If I loosen my grip on the floor, I’ll lose myself in the story and “come to” 10,000 words later. By then, it’s too late to go back. You’re headed to novels or novella land, or worse, the story that never gets finished.
“It was supposed to be a short story!” you cry to the gods, and they laugh. “Mere mortals writing short stories? You haven’t got the brevity!” How right they are. The length - 1,000 - 7,500 words - barely leaves time for words, like driving an outrageous 120 MPH leaves no time to stop, swerve, or miss a suicidal chicken trying to cross the road, let alone details that will suck you in, only to be disappointed because it was good enough to want more, and more than that, good enough to join the writer’s newsletter list, which no one really wants to do. But hey, sometimes you get a free book out of it, so...
Now you know why I have one short story, compared to six novellas and four novels, because writing short stories challenges me most. I don't enjoy writing them, but I do love having people on my newsletter list. If you've arrived here by surprise, please consider joining today and receive your copy of my one and only short story, "Two Days After."