I hate writing short stories.
I am now constantly asking myself why I decided to focus a
blog around writing short stories. Sure it is an easy way to expand on a book's
universe, but it also limits my writing. Each line becomes a fight for fewer
words to make sure that I do not expand past two pages. I have to cut out
details, character traits, and even some plot development just to make sure
that only the important parts remain. It's like going to a fancy restaurant.
Are they capable of giving you a full meal accompanied with a side and a main
dish that overflows from your plate? Yes. Will they? No. They give you a puny
piece of meat and call it a "steak." Sure it might explode with
flavour in that one bite, but then it's gone. That's what I feel like when I
look back at a short story. A steak that looks good at first glance, but leaves
your hungry for more. The problem is, there is nothing more to eat because you
can't afford to pay for two $200 "steaks."
Writing a short story means limited detail, and not
expanding on the universe in the way you had hoped. Why am I still writing
short stories?
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