Addressing the issue of the difference between a novel and a short story, E. L. Doctorow, a master in the art of writing both forms of narratives, writes in the preface to his All the time in the World. New and Selected Stories. (New York: Random House, 2011) some incisive observations. “A novel may begin in your mind as an evocative image, a bit of conversation, a piece of music, an incident you´ve read about in someone´s life, a presiding anger, but in any case as something that proposes a meaningful world. And so, the act of writing is in the nature of an exploration.”
The image of the artist as an explorer, as a discoverer, is not a new one, but expresses with an evocative metaphor the age-old view of the writer as a searching spirit, that is, as essentially human. “You write to find out what you´re writing,” adds the novelist in a reaffirmation, by example, of his previous words. “And as you work,” he concludes with specific references to the writing process, “the sentences become generative, the book foretold in that image, that fragment of conversation begins to emerge and itself participates in the composition, telling you what it is and how it must be realized.”
This with respect to the novel. As for the short story, he observes that “by contrast, usually comes to you as a situation, with the characters and setting irrevocably attached to it.” One would think, then, that they are less the result of an exploration than of a discovery, an illumination. “Stories are assertive,” the writer affirms, “they are self-announcing, their voice and circumstances decided and immutable. It is not a matter of finding your way to them,” as it is the case in the writing of a novel, “they´ve arrived unbidden, and more or less whole, with a demand that you put everything else aside and write them down before they fade as dreams fade.”
“Each form of fiction,” Doctorow concludes, “comes with its own satisfactions--in the case of the story, the heft of the sentences when there are so few, the quick return of an aesthetic investment,” which is a perfect description of what should be essential to a short story.
