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Why Some Stories Should Be Novellas (Not Novels)
Episode 15814th May 2026 • Writing Break • America's Editor
00:00:00 00:21:58

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Some novels should have been novellas. In this episode, we get into the latest publishing and book trend news, and we talk about why shorter forms can create stronger stories. If you’ve ever wondered whether your manuscript is actually a novella in disguise, this episode is for you.

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Overthinking Couch Topics:

  1. Why many novels lose focus when stretched too far
  2. How novellas balance emotional immersion with relentless momentum
  3. TikTok’s struggling publishing imprint
  4. AI flooding discoverability systems
  5. Audio-first storytelling
  6. The growing pressure for authors to prove their work is “meaningfully human”

Music licensed from Storyblocks.

Transcripts

Rosemi Mederos:

If you have plot bunnies coming out of your plot holes, it’s time for a writing break.

Well, hello there. I'm recording this by dawn's early light, and as I look over my notes today, I am certain I did not have enough coffee before walking into the studio. As I must have discussed with you before, I do not need caffeine to get through the day. Rather, I need it to look at the bright side of things, something I've recently discovered is genetic. Really. Anyway, I have some publishing and book trend updates for you. I'll try to be upbeat about it. And we're continuing our genre review. Last time, we talked about short stories, and today we're taking up a bit more space and talking about novelettes and novellas. 

I am a big fan of novellas, and I think there are many novels that should have been novellas. A sprawling novel is great if there is enough in the story and plot to justify sprawling about. If there isn't, the result is an unfocused story that prattles on. Novellas and novelettes can achieve emotional intensity without diluting the story or the plot. They let you get into a great story without needing to elbow side characters and lackluster subplot out of the way. Readers often love reading novellas, writers often love writing them, and filmmakers love making them into films. Alas, it's the publishers keeping us apart. So, today we’re going to talk about what novelettes and novellas actually are and what's great about them. But first, the news. The Writing Break cafe is open, so let's get into it. 

r not? Industry forecasts for:

TikTok’s publishing experiment, 8th Note Press, appears to be collapsing. Launched in 2023, this toddler of a publishing house appears to have tried to reverse-engineer BookTok's success from the inside. Influencers rave about a book and it goes viral, why not become a publishing house and make even more money? The official reason this didn't work out hasn't been made public yet, but according to The Bookseller, “authors and agents are currently negotiating the return of rights to titles acquired by the publisher, and the business’ digital presence has apparently been quietly deleted.”

It's not clear what sunk this battleship, but, as I see it, there were three considerations missing from the battle plans. One, influencers and wannabe influencers rave about many books, and most do not go viral. Being TikTok meant that you were making money with all views and not losing time and money on books that didn't catch on. Two, consumers often experence an atmospheric drop when a corporation gets involved in something they love. It's like a parent checking in on a giggly group of kids mid-sleepover. Or a long-haired bad boy getting a corporate-approved haircut. Nothing has really changed, but it's not the same. And three, readers are not easily fooled. Period.

In the end, this whole experiment seems to have done more harm than good. According to one report, “Authors who were on a successful self-publishing path have had their earnings and career trajectory seriously hampered.”

And yet, TikTok is expanding its #BookTok bestseller branding internationally and rolling out in-store integrations. This is coming primarily in the form of a bestseller list and BookTok stickers being slapped on books in brick-and-mortar bookstores. Yay.

But the book industry is realizing it cannot make a book go viral on command. We’re still seeing publishers chasing “BookTokable” books, but there's increasing burnout around such trend-chasing and increasing skepticism toward obviously engineered hype. Publishers desperately want discoverability, and they're still trying to figure out how to manufacture it. And yet, organic enthusiasm remains more powerful than corporate mimicry. In the words of Regina George, "stop trying to make fetch happen."

However, publishing is worried that AI will flood the market with weak books and overwhelm discoverability systems. And historically, discoverability has always been the true scarcity problem in publishing. That is why trust, author identity, voice, expertise, and recognizable human perspective are becoming more valuable, not less. One can only hope that the AI era will make distinctly human authorship even more marketable, especially for authors with a recognizable voice, an intellectual perspective, a cross-platform presence, and genuine authority.

An update on the Anthropic copyright settlement: it's a mess. Authors affected by alleged pirated-book training datasets are reporting chaos in the claims process, confusion over compensation, and concerns that the payouts massively undervalue the use of their work. At the same time, courts continue allowing some author lawsuits against AI companies to proceed, publishing organizations are becoming more openly aggressive, and the industry is increasingly framing generative AI as a direct market threat to authors. The important thing to remember is that this isn't about technology but about labor done by authors. They put in the work, and they are not being compensated for it. The way I feel today, publicly shaming AI minions is the way to go. 

A few weeks ago, I told you about Shy Girl, the horror novel that was pulled by its publisher after readers accused it of being AI-generated. The author then claimed AI content was introduced by the copyeditor during the editing stage rather than by the author during the drafting stage.

Over the past few years, I've been informing you that publishers have been slouching toward stronger AI disclosure clauses, contractural warranties, and some kind of human-authored certification, but it seems publishers are now realizing that they do not have reliable systems for detecting AI-written manuscripts and that the line between human-written and AI-assisted is blurry. Perhaps publishers did not expect readers to be so unwelcoming to AI-generated books. Authors are now being scrutinized not only for plagiarism but also for “AI vibes.”

I know of a few longstanding writers who are being asked to prove that what they wrote was not AI-generated, and they have no idea how to do so.

The Authors Guild, which has been sounding the alarm since day one, has updated its AI best practices for writers, specifically warning authors that undisclosed AI-generated text could create copyright and contractual problems.

Does this mean we're entering an era where authors and publishers must prove that titles are meaningfully human? Will lawsuits involving AI become more serious and financially consequential? Or is this just one last gasp for air before publishing flatlines?

I've mentioned before that publishers are increasingly acquiring projects specifically for your ears rather than your eyes, and the trend is continuing. Audio-first work changes many things, including pacing expectations, narration style, dialogue density, hook structure, and even genre trends. Books that perform well in audio tend to have a strong voice, emotional immediacy, high momentum, and episodic propulsion. In other words, they have the same qualities that tend to perform well in podcasts and serialized internet storytelling. This is especially relevant for authors building platforms through podcasts, Substack, TikTok, YouTube, or serialized online audiences.

Is it me, or are the walls between “book author” and “media personality” getting thinner every year? Pretty soon video will no longer be optional, and the so-called author will have to shimmy and shake on camera for that book contract. Yes, that's a slippery slope fallacy, but I'm going to need more coffee if I'm going to be less sardonic today. Or perhaps we shouldn't go gentle into that good night. Links to all of today's news stories can be found in the show notes of this episode. Let's both get another cup of whatever we need to rage against the dying of the light before we get into the differences between a novelette and a novella, and the splendor of both.

The main difference between a novelette and a novella is the word count. A novelette generally falls between about 7,500 and 17,500 words, and a novella usually ranges from about 17,500 to 40,000 words. As we touched upon last episode, a story's length changes what it can realistically sustain, especially when it comes to pacing, scope, characterization, worldbuilding, and tension.

A novelette has enough room to deepen characterization and build atmosphere, but not enough room to support extensive narrative expansion. The writer can explore a concept more thoroughly than a short story allows, but the form still demands restraint. The narrative cannot wander for long. There is room for development, but not indulgence. A strong novelette often feels intensely focused. It tends to revolve around a central conflict, relationship, or idea that gains emotional and thematic depth through slightly expanded space.

A novella is where the form begins to feel more immersive and novel-like. You have enough room for layered characterization, meaningful progression, and sustained tension. Relationships can evolve more gradually. Emotional developments have room to unfold. But the novella still operates under constraints that distinguish it from a full novel. A novel can survive digression. A novella usually cannot. A novel can support multiple major subplots. A novella generally works best when tightly centered on one dominant narrative thread. In the hands of a talented author, the novella feels expansive.

One reason readers often love novellas and novelettes is that these forms tend to minimize structural waste. Many novels contain sections where the narrative slows, repeats itself, or temporarily loses focus. Sometimes that sprawl is pleasurable. Readers who love immersive worlds and long character journeys often enjoy lingering in a fictional space. But there are also stories that become stronger by reigning it in. Some narratives have one central idea, one major emotional arc, or one core conflict carrying most of the weight. Expanding that material to full novel length can weaken the intensity rather than deepen it. A novella allows a writer to sustain emotional immersion without inflating the narrative beyond what the story naturally supports.

There is also something psychologically satisfying about the form for readers. A novella can often be read in one or two sittings, which creates continuity of emotional experience. The reader stays inside the atmosphere of the work without repeatedly exiting and re-entering it over days or weeks. That concentrated engagement can produce remarkable emotional force.

A great many manuscripts that become novellas did not begin as novellas intentionally. The writer set out to write a novel, but the material did not generate enough complexity to sustain novel-length expansion. Instead of recognizing this, some writers attempt to force additional material into the manuscript. The pacing slows artificially. New subplots appear without enough weight to justify themselves. Repetitive scenes emerge, and side characters begin consuming space without contributing meaningfully to the central movement. In other words, the writer starts manufacturing narrative mass. To me if feels like the poor story was put in front of a fun house mirror and is being oddly stretched all around to reach 80,000 words. It's wobbly, at best. A stronger solution is to recognize that the story may simply belong to a shorter form. Writers, readers, and publishers often equate length with importance, ambition, or legitimacy. As though a “real” book must cross a certain word count threshold. But many extraordinary works are novellas precisely because the authors understood the natural scale of the material.

Pacing behaves differently in novellas and novelettes. A short story often enters quickly and exits quickly. A novel has room for broader modulation. A novella must balance momentum with immersion carefully. Readers need enough space to emotionally invest, but the narrative still has to move with purpose. This means dialogue in novellas carry a lot of weight. Character interactions need to advance multiple layers simultaneously. Setting details also contribute atmosphere, theme, and emotional tone. Because there is less room overall, transitions matter tremendously. Structural inefficiencies become highly visible in these forms.

At the same time, the novella benefits from sustained pressure. We've talked in the past about needing to juxtapose action scenes with reflection scenes in novels to give readers time to catch their breath. You're free from such an obligation in a novella. Many successful novellas maintain a strong sense of narrative forward movement almost continuously. Once the story establishes its trajectory, it rarely stops long enough to dissipate tension.  If you like writing action more than reflection, novellas might be the way to go. 

There is a difference between depth and length. A story does not become deeper simply because it becomes longer. Sometimes depth comes from sustained focus rather than expansion. This is an important lesson because many developing writers instinctively add material whenever something feels emotionally thin. Often the real problem is not lack of content, but lack of specificity, tension, or thematic cohesion.

Now let’s talk practically. Novellas occupy a somewhat unusual position in publishing. Readers often enjoy them, especially in genres like horror, science fiction, fantasy, and literary fiction. Digital publishing and audiobooks have also helped the form considerably because readers are less tied to physical-book expectations than they once were. Traditional publishing, however, has historically struggled with the economics of novellas. Printing and marketing costs do not scale neatly with length, which means a shorter book can be harder to position commercially at certain price points.

That said, the landscape has shifted somewhat in recent years. Small presses frequently embrace novellas. Subscription models and digital formats have helped. Some genres now actively welcome shorter forms because readers appreciate the tighter pacing and faster reading experience. So while novellas may not dominate the commercial market, they absolutely have a place within it.

If you're wondering if your work in progress is a novella, ask yourself, How much complexity does the core idea naturally generate? If the story revolves around one central conflict, one dominant relationship, or one tightly focused transformation, it may belong in novella territory. If you find yourself expanding outward primarily to increase length rather than deepen meaning, pay attention to that. A story should not need artificial inflation to survive. Another clue is momentum. Some stories lose energy when stretched too far. Others gain richness through expansion. Learning to recognize that difference is part of becoming a stronger writer.

For today's overthinking prompt, take a current project idea and remove every subplot, side character, or secondary thread that is not absolutely essential. What remains? Does the core story suddenly feel sharper and more emotionally powerful? Or does it feel hollow? Do you think you'll miss writing those subplots and side characters, or do you feel some relief at the thought of not having to revisit those? Does it now feel like you'll only be writing the good parts? If so, you might be a novella writer.

Thoughout this genre series, I've avoided giving examples of books in each genre because people writing in a genre usually know what books they like from that genre. It seemed like a waste of time. But I think we're not always clear on how world-changing a novella can be. There are many wonderful titles I could mention, but looking only at novellas that were turned into movies, we have Breakfast at Tiffany's, Heart of Darkness, The Old Man and the Sea, Passing, Shawshank Redemption, Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and Story of Your Life, which was adapted into the film Arrival. Binti is currently being adapted into a film, and The House on Mango Street has been repeatedly adapted for the stage, with talks of making it a movie as well.

In many ways, novellas are naturally cinematic. A lot of films adapted from novels end up cutting massive amounts of material. But novellas are great for the big screen because the structure is already tight, the cast is manageable, the central conflict is clear, and the emotional arc is concentrated. For some stories, being a novella is exactly right. And recognizing that can save a writer from forcing a narrative into the wrong shape simply because the market trained them to think longer always means better.

Next week will be a clip show, which my producer says is a couple of weeks overdue. We'll continue our jaunt through genres after that. Until next time, thank you so much for listening, and remember, you deserved this break.

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