Immediate Fiction

by Jerry Cleaver

  How would you like to be loaded down with all that when you set out to create a story? These concepts are the result of examining story from the outside rather than from the inner dynamics of the characters and the conflict.

  That said, if any of these issues that I'm calling unnecessary or burdensome strike your fancy or if you run into anything that sounds like it would make your task easier, try it. If it works for you, it's good. Just don't load yourself down with a lot of unnecessary things to do because you feel you're supposed to.

  [14] The Long and the Short of It

  FROM SHORT STORY TO NOVEL

  The short story versus the novel, the difference between the two, and how you can turn any short story into a novel, are the subject of this chapter. The first question is, What's the difference between a short story and a novel? The outstanding difference, of course, is length. The question then becomes, How long (or short) is a short story, and how short (or long) is a novel? And then there's that novella thing that comes in there somewhere. A novella is too big to be a short story but too small to be a novel—too big to be little and too little to be big—a kind of literary adolescent. So, how big or small is the novella? Is it at 90 pages, 110, or 120 that a short story turns into a novella? And when does that novella turn into a novel? If we say that a short story becomes a novella at 110 pages, how much different would that novella be if we cut 1 page so that it was 109 pages and fit the definition of a short story? Or what if it were only one word shy of 110 pages?

  OK, so there's no clear cutoff, no point where a short story transforms itself into a novella and a novella into a novel. But that doesn't mean it's not a meaningful distinction or that we shouldn't draw a line

  somewhere. After all, there's no such thing as a 1-page novel or a 1,000-page short story. So, number of pages is the most visible difference. But is that all there is to it—more words, more pages? What accounts for those words and pages that turn a short story into a novel? Is it just a matter of taking more words to say the same thing? Is it that concise writers write short stories and long-winded writers write novels? Or is there a story ingredient that makes the novel longer— some element that demands more words and pages to do the job?

  Many people who write short pieces think that they'll never be able to stretch a short story into a novel (300 pages or more). It seems impossible to them, because it is impossible—in the sense that they're thinking, in the sense of padding and stretching out a short story until it's long enough to be a novel. That'll never work. That's not how it's done at all. When you write a novel, you need to have so much story that you don't know how you'll ever fit it all in. If you're used to writing only small pieces, you may be wondering where you're going to get all that material. Before we're done, you'll know exactly where to get it and how to use it.

  You often hear people talking about the difference between short stories and novels from the aspect of such things as theme and scope. Those terms, first of all, are not writing terms. They're most often used by literature professors or critics. They're fine for what they're doing, but they're at the other end of the process. Theme and scope are not the terms writers think in or create in. They are the effect of the story, someone's idea of what the story means translated into abstract, intellectual terms, but they are not the story itself.

  I've gone to great length to rid us of all those kinds of terms, because they only confuse the issue. Writers work with the meat of experience, what we can sink our teeth into. From that come theme, scope, meaning, etc. So, while most novels have a larger theme and greater scope than a short story, we need to be thinking not about that, but rather why, in story terms, in craft terms, that is true. What is it about the novel that gives it that broader scope and theme? It has nothing to do with covering more time. Some short stories cover years, and some novels take place in one day. And it's not territory. Some short stories circle the globe, while some novels never leave the house. So, what's the difference?

  I want to get to the answer by having you experience the difference. First, I'm going to give you a plot that could be a short story, then retell it and turn it into a novel. Your job is to see if you can tell what I'm doing to turn it into a novel, what I'm adding so that it has to be a novel, so that it's too big to possibly fit into a short story. Here's the short story version.

  This is the old boy-meets-girl plot. It goes something like: Boy meets girl, falls for her, and tries to get her interest. She rejects him. He tries again to woo her. She shuns him again. He tries harder and harder and finally charms and wins her. Now, that could be a short story of 20 or 30 pages. He could win her and lose her and win her again without adding more than 10 pages. Either way, we're not approaching anything even near a novella. It's a short story.

  Now, I want to change it into a novel. To do that, I need to be more specific, but that's not what will account for the length. I wasn't specific in the short story plot, because we didn't need specifics and they would have just slowed things down. So, for our novel: These are college-age people. The boy already has a girlfriend. They've been living together for a year and getting pretty serious, especially the girl. They're going to graduate soon, and it's time to make some serious decisions about commitment. Now,- the boy isn't sure how he feels about the whole thing. Does he really love the girl? How can he tell? He'd always imagined it would be more consuming and thrilling than this. Is this the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with? Should he split and look for someone else? But what if this is as good as it gets? What if he splits and loses her and regrets it for the rest of his life? How can he tell?

  This is his dilemma, and he's stewing about it at the opening of the story as he and his girlfriend are getting ready to go out on a double date with a friend of his girlfriend's he's never met and her boyfriend. They're going to meet the other couple at the pub for beers before going to a movie together. OK, they get to the pub, meet the couple, sit down in the booth, and order a pitcher. And what happens? Can you guess?

  Zap! His dream girl. Love at first sight. The boy knows instantly that the other girl is what he's been waiting for—if not this particular girl, then one who makes him feel this way. He's sure. It's this or nothing. He can't settle for less.

  OK, what's next? What's his next move? He has to break up with his girlfriend. Now, he could keep her until he finds someone else, but we're going to have him do the decent thing and end it now, since he's sure about it.

  So, now we have a breakup story. He wants out. Is she going to let him out easily? Is she going to go quietly? No, it's going to be messy, messy as you can or care to make it—big trouble, big pain (always). She could become suicidal or homicidal. She could stalk him and be lurking around throughout the entire story. But I'm not even going to use her that much. Just remember that we could.

  OK, it's messy, but eventually he's rid of her, and things settle down. What's his next move? To make contact with the other woman. Now, is she going to be interested in him? Is he going to be just the kind of guy she's always dreamed of? No way. Her present boyfriend is a big, handsome football type. Our hero is nothing special—decent, but no knockout, no giant, no tough guy. She wants no part of him. "Are you nuts?" is her attitude.

  So, he's got to work harder. He's got to make contact with her when her boyfriend isn't around and convince her to spend a little time with him. Let's say he dares or begs her to just spend a half hour with him so he can show her what kind of a guy he is. If he can't stir her heart in that half hour, he'll accept any decision she makes. Reluctantly she agrees, saying he's wasting his time, but she'll do it just to get rid of him. But, she tells him, they'd better be careful, because if her boyfriend finds out, he'll tear him apart. So, they meet. He makes his grand play, doing everything and anything he can think of to charm her.

  It's possible that he could win her over in this scene. Or she might say she'll think about seeing him again. Or she might say that she's not impressed and leave, and he'd try again, breaking
his promise. Or she might later call him, and say that she wanted to see him again. This could go on for quite awhile, but to keep it simple and not wring too much out of it, we'll say that she thinks he's pretty cute and wants to see more of him. So, now we have our character wooing and charming her and overcoming her resistance. Eventually she falls for him.

  OK, what's the next step? She's got to break up with her boyfriend. Is he going to go quietly? Never! He's big and dangerous, and he's going to raise hell. He's got to run into the two of them together and to get the hero alone and have a scene or scenes with him. But I don't want to milk that for too much. The ex-boyfriend could be an ongoing character throughout the novel, but I'm not going to use him much.

  So, things settle down and are relatively peaceful. I'm not going to get into the kinds of issues and troubles people have to face and work out in any relationship, but just note that we could. But where are we now? Short story, novella, or novel territory? We're at least into a sizable short story if not bordering on a novella. But, it may not feel that it has to be a novel. So, let's go on.

  What's the next natural thing people do in normal, conventional society when they fall for each other? They get engaged, have sex, live together, but I'm not talking about any of that. That's all there to go into if you choose. I'm not. The next natural step is to meet the parents. So, she takes the boy home to meet her parents. And is he going to be the kind of person they always wanted for their daughter? Or is he going to be the wrong religion, wrong class, wrong ethnic group, wrong race, wrong profession (damn fool wants to be a writer!). Yes, he's all wrong, 100 percent, total. He has to be.

  OK, so it's dinner at her house. I'm making the parents wealthy, and giving the new boyfriend a working-class, blue-collar background. He's the first offspring to go to college. So, we have four characters at dinner. What can happen there? One thing is that every character could have a meaningful scene with every other character. We can have a scene with all four characters together (1), a scene with the boy alone with the mother and father (2), a scene with the boy alone with the mother (3), a scene with the boy alone with the father (4), a scene with the boy, the girl, and the mother (5), a scene with the boy, the girl, and the father (6), a scene with the girl and the mother and father (7), a scene with the girl alone with the father (8), a scene with the girl alone with the mother (9), a scene with the boy and girl alone together (10), a scene with the parents alone (11).

  Now, that's too much to hold in your head at one time. But if you think of each possibility, you'll see it makes sense. In each of these possible scenes, the characters would act, and have reason to act, differently. For example, the father could be perfectly friendly and encouraging to the boy while others are present. Then, when he's alone with the boy, he'll say, "Look, you punk. I'll buy you off, or you'll find yourself floating face down in the river. Take your pick, because there's no way in hell you're getting my little girl. Repeat one word of this, and you won't make it to graduation alive."

  Now, you don't always do all the possible scenes, but you should consider each of them—consider every character having a scene with every other character. In this case the dynamics and the possibilities are there to do them all if you choose to. If you do, you'll have eleven scenes at, say, 3 to 5 pages each. That's 33 to 55 pages for the dinner. However you do it, it'll make a hefty chapter.

  So where are we? We're not done, but are we approaching novel length? Does it feel like it's beyond the short story, that it can no longer be a short story and must be a novel? And can you see what I'm doing to make it a novel?

  Let's work on story possibilities a little more before getting into the specifics of craft. So, the boy has survived dinner with his new girlfriend's parents—for the moment. What's next in the natural sequence of events in conventional society? Meeting his parents. And how is bringing the girl to dinner in his parents' home going to go? Not well. It cannot. It would be nice if there were alcoholism, spousal abuse, gambling problems, inappropriate flirting from the father, a possessive mother. And here we have four characters again, which gives us another possible eleven scenes, another meaty chapter.

  All right, they've met each other's parents. What's the next step? Parents meet parents. Where will that take place? I'm thinking that the working-class parents go to the girl's mansion. And what could go on? Now, we have six characters. How many scene possibilities do you imagine we have with six characters? Fifty-seven. Now, this is not mathematics or science. It's art. I'm making my point by showing you the magnitude of possibilities. Many things enter into which scenes you choose to do. But with dinner at the girl's parents, you should be able to feel the kind of discomfort, unpleasantness, sparks, fireworks that might take place—all opportunities for revealing who these people really are (girl and boy included).

  The lower-class father might ask all kinds of inappropriate questions. He could even try to bum some money from the girl's father when they're alone in the study. Or perhaps he's a union shop steward—uneducated, but crafty and clever and a master of insinuating and provoking. He could pocket a valuable knickknack. The movie Guess Who's Coming to Dinner had only 6 characters having dinner, and that was a feature-length movie. We're way beyond that. Don't forget that we could use the ex-boyfriend and ex-girlfriend. And we haven't brought in siblings or other relatives, who could also be involved. And then there's a wedding or plans for it, possibly. Father of the Bride was an entire movie about a wedding. So, we're not into any of that, but it should feel that our short story has turned into a novel.

  OK, it's a novel, but what have I been doing? What have I been adding to the story to turn it into a novel? What's the difference between the short story version and the novel I've been turning it into? There are more conflict and more scenes, but what accounts for them? One thing and one thing only: MORE CHARACTERS. More characters, who are more trouble, more scenes, more pages. Believe it or not, that's all there is to it. That doesn't mean it's easy. It takes work, but it is that simple.

  As long as each character you add brings into the mix a problem, a complication, an obstacle that has to be overcome, your story will grow and grow until it becomes a novel. Each character must have a natural connection to the story and add to the problem. No one is just there in fiction. No one is along for the ride. Everyone must serve a purpose, our ongoing purpose, which is to reveal character. Additional characters cause more trouble, forcing the other characters to act and reveal more of themselves. The novel is longer because the problem is bigger, the conflict more complicated and longer running. That larger, longer conflict is created by the presence of more characters. In terms of story elements, more characters are the difference between the short story and the novel.

  In the short story version, the boy and girl both had parents and might each have had lovers when they met, but we didn't get into any of that. We didn't get into whether they were students or employed. It was about him and her and that's all. To turn the short story into a novel, I added characters who were naturally connected, closely and intimately, to the boy and girl, characters who had or felt they had something to gain or lose by the boy and girl uniting. We've by no means exhausted the logical supply of characters. To turn a short story into a novel, add more characters, characters who are invested in the outcome of the story, who feel, for reasons good or bad, real or imaginary, that they stand to win or lose by that outcome.

  Now, that doesn't mean you have to know what a character's connection or investment is when he emerges in your mind or on the page. He doesn't have to qualify to get in. You may just have an urge to put someone in the story. If you have such an urge, follow it. Respect your urges. Then, as you write, you can work him in, make him necessary, find the character's connection or create one. Remember, in the end, and at the beginning, this is a game of the heart, the emotions. If it feels good, do it. In between, you use craft and technique to get the most out of the story and yourself, to make it all fit together, and to relocate your heart when it
gets lost in the shuffle. Craft and technique are the tools that you use to keep yourself on track.

  So, it's more characters that turns a short story into a novel. This more character stuff I like to call the mathematics of fiction. Now, this is art, not science, so putting numbers on things goes against the spirit of it all. I'm not trying to turn it into math or mechanics. But I put numbers on things whenever it will help give us a feel for the magnitude or the degree of some story issue. This is an elusive game. Whenever putting a number on things will make them clearer, it's worth doing, as long as you keep in mind that it's only an estimate.

  So, exactly how much does adding characters increase the length of a story? Well, let's say that a 2-character story has one fundamental scene or character combination—the 2 characters together. Now, for this example, I'm not counting repeat scenes or scenes that the character has alone with him or herself (and there are many of both). To keep it simple, we're talking about possible scenes as determined by number of single scenes between characters.

  So, 2 characters give us 1 scene. How many scenes would adding a third character give us? Three characters give us 4 possible scenes (all 3 characters together and each alone with 1 of the other 3). When we add a fourth character, the number of possible scenes jumps to 11 (more than doubles). Five characters give us 26 scenes. Six characters give us 57 scenes. Seven characters give us 120 scenes. Eight characters are 250 scenes. Nine are 520. Ten are over 1,000 possible scenes. Ten characters are not a lot of characters for a novel. I was reading a Larry McMurtry novel, Comanche Moon. It had 16 characters in the first fifty pages, and it didn't feel crowded, nor was it hard to keep track of who was who.

  Note that I'm talking about possible scenes. At some point it isn't practical or true to the story to have every single character having a scene with the other characters in every possible combination. But this mathematical example should give you a sense of the magnitude of possibilities for scenes and story. Whatever your story, it's critical to always consider every character having a scene with every other character. If you have a dangerous, threatening, impulsive character and a frail, defenseless character in the same story, they must meet in a setting where the weak character is at the mercy of the dangerous one. Otherwise, what's the point? Fiction is about exploring the forces at work in us and what happens when those forces collide.