Short Story vs. Novel: Techniques of Story Writing
While reader expectations differ from short stories to novels, employing similar writing techniques can help you finish either form. Author Rajasree Variyar shares techniques of story writing.
My debut novel, The Daughters of Madurai, is only the second piece of novel-length fiction I have written. Like many writers, I began my writing journey with what seemed the much more manageable form of the short story.
Making the leap from short story to novel is more than just word count, of course. A reader’s expectations of a short story are a powerful single concept, easily consumed in a single setting. They are glimpses into a new world, into the most poignant moments of a character’s life. They can leave behind ripples of what presaged the story’s beginning and what will unfold beyond its end.
Novels, on the other hand, allow a writer to indulge in world-building, to linger on their characters’ journeys, and to explore multiple themes at once. Their length allows a reader to become immersed more fully in the author’s creation.
When it comes to the short story, I have found the old adage of “start late, get out early” to be particularly resonant. There isn’t the luxury of paragraphs of initial context-setting—the writer doesn’t have the words and the reader doesn’t have the attention. Every word counts.
It helps to start with the action and weave the contextual details sparingly through the unfolding story. In my short story “Lucky Buddha,” I start at the point of crisis—the brink of a husband’s understanding of his wife’s eating disorder—ambiguously introduced to entice the reader to continue along the story’s path.
The reader is also much less interested in a neatly packaged, languorous resolution in the short story form. Exiting the story early, at the height of the climax, allows it to resonate in the reader’s mind. Flannery O’Connor’s brilliant short story “The River” is a great example of this. The fate of her young protagonist, Bevel, is all too clear, but remains unspoken, giving the reader the space—and all the information they need—to finish the story themselves.
I have found the big leap from short story to novel form to be primarily about maintaining the tension over 60,000 words or more. Many authors will talk about the dreaded sagging, soggy middle: that second third of the book that, without careful attention, can drag, putting the brakes on the story. This is where thoughtful structuring is essential in novel-length works. Deliberately following a model such as the three-act structure is a good way to avoid tension-draining pitfalls.
And techniques that create a strong short story are crucial to strengthen a novel as well. Focused storylines; sparse, necessary prose; an urgent beginning; and a strong, non-overdrawn ending are excellent ingredients for a riveting novel.
As a running enthusiast, I’ve always thought of the short story as a sprint, or at least a quick 5k. Short stories are a great way to experiment with form, language, voice, and structure. The constraints of the short story force us into paring back anything not fully relevant to the core concept—and maintaining tension and pace.
Writing a novel is a marathon: It requires hours of training, is excruciating in the middle, and the feeling of relief and accomplishment at the end is just enough to make a writer consider attempting another one. And then, perhaps, one more after that.
Rajasree Variyar was born in Bangalore and raised in Sydney, Australia. Her short stories have won second prize in the Shooter Literary Magazine short story competition in 2019 and been longlisted for the Brick Lane Bookshop short story competition in 2020.
