Ideas come in many shapes and sizes. Some need the room afforded by a full novel to be explored. Others work better in shorter forms. It’s common enough wisdom that short stories can be harder to write than novels, but it’s worth exploring why.
A novel is a world that your readers will live in for many hours. They expect that world to be fully decorated and furnished when they move in. Novels require extensive world-building and character development and all the good things. There’s room to move around inside a novel, plenty of time for things to grow organically.
Short stories, on the other hand, are high speed train rides from point A to point B. A story needs to race along, with no time for extraneous features like exposition or character growth.
It’s almost like they’re two different art forms.
When you’re writing a short, every sentence counts and you can’t afford to waste them. As a result, writing a short is an exercise in austerity. Does your story really need to be set in a secondary world or a different time period? It’s so much quicker to put it in a contemporary, primary world setting–unless the point of the story is the difference between this world and another. How many characters does your story need? Can you cut it down to two–or even one? How many scenes do you really need? How many lines of dialogue? Everything in the story needs to do work towards making your point, selling one single emotion or defining a single character. Everything else must go.
You may end up spending as much time making these tough decisions as you do on primary composition.
Writing a novel requires its own processes and decisions, though. Is your story rich enough to carry you through a lengthy and satisfying character arc? Do you have enough ideas to flesh out a plot skeleton to 70-100,000 words? How much world detail can you pack in to each scene, how can you make the setting a dynamic character in itself? Conversely, if your novel is working, if it sings, you’ll find that you actually need all that space–every little moment you create needs the extra oxygen, the extra elbow-room, to blossom and become something wonderful.
I often find when I start a new novel that on page one I can’t imagine how I’m going to get to 300 pages. I always feel, on the last page, that I wish I had 300 more.
Deciding whether your idea should be the basis for a short story or a novel is the first tough decision you’ll make with each project. It’s possible to make the wrong decision–you may find that your idea is drowning in all that extra space, and that if it was cut down into a story it could be so much more powerful. You may realize that your short story feels naked and skeletonized and like it never got a chance to really grow. So make sure you make the right choice the first time! Or learn the wisdom to know the difference between these two very different forms.
Now, as for novellas…
Yeesh. Traditionally novellas got little love because they were hard to sell. Even today, editors typically want full novels or they want a short piece for an anthology. The advent of eBooks, however–which can be any length the author chooses–has opened up new opportunities for what was once considered a bastard form.
There’s really not even an “official” word count for the poor novella. I’ve heard 50,000 words as a good length, but I’ve seen novellas that were 90,000 words long, and some that were 35 (don’t even ask me about “novelettes” or “long stories”).
The novella might be defined as a novel with less emphasis on worldbuilding and character development–with some of the laser focus of a short story. Alternatively it could give the full novel treatment to a more limited range of characters, or to a compressed span of time (a novella might, say, all take place in a single day, or over the duration of a long ocean voyage).
But the true beauty of the novella is that there are no rules. You can make it as long or as short as you need it to be. You can fill it with an extensive cast of characters, each of whom only get a scant few scenes to shine. You could create a whole, rich world and pair it with a simplified, athletically skinny plot. You do you.
Just… do yourself a favor. Know which form you’re using before you start writing. You can save yourself from a lot of painful editing later, and your story will be the better for it.