When a Novelist Writes a Short Story

I spent the first ten years or so of my writing journey writing one thing and one thing only: novels.

Every time I started a new story, I fell completely into it and had to keep world building and character building until I didn’t have just one book—I had a trilogy. Then a series. Then separate series started merging together, and next thing I know, everything is connected.

It was a good time, and I couldn’t imagine writing anything shorter. I didn’t really have an interest in short stories, and I didn’t even understand flash fiction. And then, in college, things changed.

Because all my professors forced me to turn in stories 20 pages or less. Sure, they wanted to survive the school year, and they had to read 20+ stories and grade them all, on top of office hours to talk through each student’s story…

I mean, I understood, but it was still disappointing.

To get the most out of my classes and each writing project, I decided to turn in complete stories instead of just one chapter of an epic. That forced me to start thinking about pacing. Writing economically. I figured I would take it as a challenge and submit a novel next time.

Nope! Again, professors shouldn’t have to drown in manuscripts. So, for the next five years, I wrote mainly short stories and shelved most of my novel ideas for the time being.

This was probably the most valuable way for me to spend my time writing throughout undergrad. I started to focus more on the bare bones of the story—get rid of filler words…and scenes, and characters…

You really don’t have to kill your darlings most of the time. Just put them in time-out for a while. You can write another short story about them later.

So, for all the die-hard novelists out there, try this exercise: write a story that’s only 20 pages long.

Too easy? Write a 10-page story. Write a 5-page story. Write a story in 2 sentences. Write a story in 1.

When you challenge yourself to write a story that makes sense with as little space as possible, you’ll be amazed at what comes out. Try applying this to time as well: set a timer to write for a comfortable amount of time, whether it’s 30 minutes or an hour. Then set your timer for 60 seconds.

I once wrote a poem on a napkin. It was terrible, but it helped me realize I could write in small spaces.

For the most part, sure: think outside the box.

Here’s my response to that advice though: Limit yourself. Just for a little while. You’ll find that you can flourish even in the smallest of boxes.

Photo by Amelia Bartlett on Unsplash