My Book is Too Short! The Fantastic, Easy Art of Stretching Out Your Writing

When I finished two chapters of one of my current book projects a few weeks ago, I was worried at how short they were; around thirteen pages altogether, and the word count would be that of a novella, not a novel.

Recently, I discovered why.

I was very befuddled at this new turn into the problem-filled world that is writing. I already had the entire book idea and had planned it would be enough for a trilogy, but for some reason, it just wasn’t cutting it.

As I was laying in my bed, sick, a few days ago (don’t worry, I’m fine), as I was reading one of my favorite books, I knew that my story had a longer plot than the story I was reading, yet it was much shorter.

That’s because most (not all) third-person professional authors do something I like to call, stretching out your writing.

Stretching out your writing is simply making it longer, while actually increasing the reader value, and really not putting in any important information. It’s an important and difficult art to master. I’m not sure if professional writers do it on purpose or just automatically.

When people write, they usually tell what’s going on, emotions, surroundings, things like that. However, that’s not enough to look good in a paperback. So most people add things that aren’t important. Like, maybe, what it reminded him of.

We’ll do an experiment by transforming a sample paragraph (below), to a new, totally cool paragraph that would have a place in a great book.

“Dan glanced up excitedly, fascinated by who the new visitor might be. He was disappointed when he realized it was dreaded Aunt Beatrice; Aunt Beatrice was mean.”

My original first two chapters were something like that (except better written, and on a different topic), because I had forgotten the rules of what we’re learning. So let’s say Aunt Beatrice reminded Dan of something.

“Dan glanced up excitedly, fascinated by who the new visitor might be. He was disappointed when he realized it was dreaded Aunt Beatrice; Aunt Beatrice was mean. Her white teeth and jaws reminded Dan of a shark.”

A little better. Next is feeling. Of course, we always put what our character is feeling, but perhaps not their feelings about their own feelings.

“Dan glanced up excitedly, fascinated by who the new visitor might be. He was disappointed when he realized it was dreaded Aunt Beatrice; Aunt Beatrice was mean. Her white teeth and jaws reminded Dan of a shark. That fact alone was usually enough to make him both laugh and recoil in horror, but now, he faced only one feeling: Dread.”

It’s obvious, but some people forget to put why the character’s think the way they do, or do it later, or not in depth. Let’s add that.

“Dan glanced up excitedly, fascinated by who the new visitor might be. He was disappointed when he realized it was dreaded Aunt Beatrice; Aunt Beatrice was mean. Her white teeth and jaws reminded Dan of a shark. That fact alone was usually enough to make him both laugh and recoil in horror, but now, he faced only one feeling: Dread. Aunt Beatrice was not a nice lady. Once, when he was six, she had confined him to his room; during Christmas!”

A prediction of sorts by the author at what might happen.

“Dan glanced up excitedly, fascinated by who the new visitor might be. He was disappointed when he realized it was dreaded Aunt Beatrice; Aunt Beatrice was mean. Her white teeth and jaws reminded Dan of a shark. That fact alone was usually enough to make him both laugh and recoil in horror, but now, he faced only one feeling: Dread. Aunt Beatrice was not a nice lady. Once, when he was six, she had confined him to his room; during Christmas! Who knew what dastardly plan she had cooked up this time?”

Looking back on relevant past events will tell us a lot about the character and length a paragraph.

“Dan glanced up excitedly, fascinated by who the new visitor might be. He was disappointed when he realized it was dreaded Aunt Beatrice; Aunt Beatrice was mean. Her white teeth and jaws reminded Dan of a shark. That fact alone was usually enough to make him both laugh and recoil in horror, but now, he faced only one feeling: Dread. Aunt Beatrice was not a nice lady. Once, when he was six, she had confined him to his room; during Christmas! Who knew what dastardly plan she had cooked up this time? It didn’t help that Dan had just broken into her glass cabinet while eying a pair of her antique nun-chucks.”

Add more detail about the actual main event.

“Dan looked up excitedly, craning his head so that it nearly popped straight out of it’s neck. His disappointment was total when he learned his surprise visitor was none other than Aunt Beatrice. Her white teeth and jaws reminded Dan of a shark. That fact alone was usually enough to make him both laugh and recoil in horror, but now, he faced only one feeling: Dread. Aunt Beatrice was not a nice lady. Once, when he was six, she had confined him to his room; during Christmas! Who knew what dastardly plan she had cooked up this time? It didn’t help that Dan had just broken into her glass cabinet while eying a pair of her antique nun-chucks.”

There are so many things you can do.

“Dan looked up excitedly, craning his head so that it nearly popped straight out of it’s neck, knocking him backwards. He scrambled to get up, moving so quickly he bumped into his inhaler. Old and dusty, it hadn’t been used for months, but his big-sister Amy insisted he keep it–just in case. What a worrier! His disappointment was total when he learned his surprise visitor was none other than Aunt Beatrice. Her white teeth and jaws reminded Dan of a shark. That fact alone was usually enough to make him both laugh and recoil in horror, but now, he faced only one feeling: Dread. Aunt Beatrice was not a nice lady. Once, when he was six, she had confined him to his room; during Christmas! Who knew what dastardly plan she had cooked up this time? It didn’t help that Dan had just broken into her glass cabinet while eying a pair of her antique nun-chucks.”

Not only does this help you fill the pages, but it gives added value about the characters and the story of what’s going on to the reader. It’s simple, but effective. But there’s a fine line of having too much. Because writing isn’t an exact science (or art), it’s impossible to say for sure, but make sure it doesn’t interrupt the main storyline and mix it up; don’t use a whole heap like we just did above often. Bestselling-authors have used them very non-exclusively all over the place, but I wouldn’t recommend it; most people won’t want to read it, because it just is too much.

What’s your favorite add-on to stretch out your writing?

Tagged as: book, book idea, long book, short book, stretch, stretch out, stretching out your writing, write, writer, writing