Every so often, I’m asked about how long a particular type of content should be. It isn’t an absurd question; it’s one I’ve googled when I need to know how many characters I’m allowed in a subject line and how many words in a headline. Such is the way of things when writing marketing copy or an article for an online publication or print newspaper.
When I’m asked how long a novel should be, though, I hesitate to give a hard answer. I understand that modern sensibilities prefer shorter copy. Does that mean the person writing the next Lord of the Rings or Dune should cease and desist? I don’t think so.
My answer rests upon the premise of form and content. The content – the underlying idea, the story – dictates the form, which is more a matter of frame but is related to length. The question is not and should not be “how long should my novel be?” but “what is the right form for the content?” and “have I said all there is to say?”. That is, has the content reached its conclusion?
The question isn’t about the novelist reaching the conclusion; the novelist sometimes ends too early or is tardy. The question is about the content itself. The conclusion tends to find its way to the page if the writer will allow it to come to the surface. The author knows she has found it, too. She senses some sort of satisfaction and can almost hear a box snapping shut.
It is then, and only then, that the length of the novel has been determined. The length is not decided by what’s popular or the author’s intent. It is decided by the content.
Image: Nana B Agyei (Creative Commons)