Is Your Story a Short Story or a Novel?

If you’re a new writer, or even a more seasoned one, and you have a new idea for a story, you may wonder: is your story a short story or novel? Like most things in art, there are few hard and fast rules in writing. But below are some questions to ask yourself if you’re unsure whether your narrative is better suited to the form of a short story or novel.

How big is your cast of characters?

A good rule of thumb is the more characters your story has, the more likely you need a novel to give them the space for readers to get to know them.

Does your story have a subplot?

The short story has one plot. In a mystery short story, it could be who shot Old Man Thompson. There are no subplots. Because of the short form, everything in the short story has to work at solving the mystery. If you want to develop subplots, you’ll have to write a novel.

How complicated is your story?

This is related to the question above but not the same. In a short story, my clues for solving the mystery of who shot Old Man Thompson will have to be fewer and possibly more simple. I’ll have fewer suspects. If I wrote this story in a novel, I would have room to add more clues, more suspects, maybe additional crimes, like a murderous assault or a theft.

How much time does your story cover?

A story covering a year or years probably needs a novel. But not always. You could write a short story covering that much time, but you would have to write telling scenes selected from those years. For example, you wrote a story about a father and son’s reconciliation and you use Christmas celebrations to chart the repair of that relationship. In a novel, you would have time to show what happens between each Christmas. In a short story, you would have to confine yourself to just the scenes at Christmas.

Do you find yourself padding?

If you’re adding characters or scenes just to meet a word count, then you probably have a short story or novella on your hands. My favorite mystery series is Nero Wolfe mysteries by Rex Stout. A fan of the series once wrote that Mr. Stout was a master of the novella but some of his novels weren’t quite as good. He often put in padding. Some of it is very entertaining and very funny padding. For example, in the novel Some Buried Caesar, Archie Goodwin, assistant to the great detective Nero Wolfe, is arrested and has to spend time in a jail. He and another prisoner decide to start a prisoners’ union in order to improve conditions. It’s fun but doesn’t have anything to do with the plot.

The most important thing to remember when deciding whether your idea is a better fit for a short story or novel is …

Which form best serves the story?

If you write fiction, you have to make story king. That means if a metaphor you love doesn’t serve the story, you cut it out. If your favorite quirky character is killing the pace, you remove him. If you find yourself inventing boring dialogue to fill a word count, you eliminate it.

One technique I’ve found helpful is to write a one to three sentence summary of what the story is about. For my first novel, A Shadow on the Snow, the summary is “Nineteen-year-old Rae Riley needs to discover who is sending her increasingly threatening anonymous notes.” As I wrote a section or edited one, I had to ask myself if it served the basic premise of the story. If it didn’t, I either needed to cut it or adapt it.

Have you read a short story that might have been better as a novel? Or a novel that should have been a short story?

Here are tips and prompts for writing short stories.

How NOT to Start a Novel

When you sit down to write a novel, the beginning seems to offer limitless possibilities and that can be a problem for some writers. It is for me. If you can start in one of a thousand ways, how do you choose? Knowing how not to start a novel can be as helpful as how to start one.

Don’t start with your main character’s ordinary day.

Like a lot of new writers, I began my stories with two misconceptions: (1) my characters were fascinating to everybody, and (2) I should start my story by showing my characters following their normal routines. Once readers got to know my characters, I’d bring in the problem or event that changed their ordinary lives and kick off the plot. I didn’t think I needed to start with the main problem.

Now I know better. My characters will never fascinate readers in the same way they do me, just like my kids will never fascinate other people the way they do my husband and me. Also most daily routines are boring. Boring readers for a couple of chapters, if they last that long, should not be the goal of any writer.

Looking back, I see why I started like that. It was easier to introduce characters and backstory without having a pesky plot to deal with. Dribble in characters and description and backstory while the plot is under way? That’s hard!

But don’t start with dramatic action.

If you start with car chases and brawls before readers get to know your characters, (1) they won’t care about the danger your characters are in because they don’t know them and (2) you’ll have to increase the action throughout the book because the climax must be more intense than the opening.

And don’t use false starts.

What are false starts? The riveting scene that turns out to be a dream of the main character or a scene in a movie or book he or she is enjoying. I also don’t like beginnings that grab part of the climax and put it up front. Then the rest of the book is about how the characters reach that scene. Usually, by the time I get to the climax, I’ve forgotten the part that started the story.

Since I’ve never written a prologue, I can’t say whether they’re effective or not. Many authors do use them. I think the decision to use a prologue depends upon the story your’e writing.

So how to begin? Start with tension.

If you’re opening has tension, it will entice the reader to keep reading.

Here’s the opening for A Shadow on the Snow:

I’M NOT FOOLED, RAE. YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER.

I stared at the sheet of copier paper in my hand as the note fluttered in a gust of January wind.

Really? It had only taken three weeks for someone to hate me and my mom enough to leave an anonymous insult?

The book opens with my main character Rae receiving an anonymous note. The questions in her mind are transferred to the reader. Why is she receiving this note? What has happened in the last three weeks to her and her mom? Now I have Rae go through her ordinary day. But it isn’t ordinary anymore because as she works at the library as a check-out clerk, she wonders who could have sent the note.

Here’s the opening for A Storm of Doubts:

“Just stop it!”

The shout made me jerk and get poked by a dead branch of a honeysuckle bush.

Wasn’t that a woman’s voice? Not a girl’s, not my cousin Coral’s.

Swiveling on my hips, I sat higher and caught strands of my dark gold hair on the bush. The fox cubs or kits or whatevers I’d been photographing leaped and rolled over each other between muted beams of sunlight, undisturbed.

Two voices, one higher, one lower, slipped through the budding understory shrubs and bushes .

Who would be out in the woods on the morning of Memorial Day between my cousin’s farm and my dad’s?

Rae’s tension is tension for readers. Who has Rae overheard? Has something happened to her cousin? Those questions keep readers turning the page.

Your turn. What are some of your favorite openings to a story? What are some examples of how not to start a novel?

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