For some reason, my Muse has lately switched to prose fiction in quantities that are at times amazing. This logorrhea occurs when I'm least expecting it, and as quickly as I type nowadays since switching to translation for a living, I can knock out a short story in a single sitting, and a full-length novel in a few days. But only when the Muse wants to. I have no real control over it beyond re-reading a story and seeing if anything writes itself. This can be frustrating -- there is one book I particularly enjoyed, but I have no idea how it's going to end. Another book has an end which abruptly got written when I skipped ahead a chapter -- but it has no finished middle, except for some sketchy notes.

And there just isn't much short fiction, for some reason. This is mildly disappointing. I'm probably not going to publish a book online (if I type that much, I want at least the tiny chance of making a buck off it), but I've got no problem giving away short fiction. So I wish there were more, but in terms of quantity of words, I appear to lean towards the Stephen King end of the scale.

April 25, 2008:
Richards (8743 words)
That said, I do just happen to have a short story written and complete. I rather like it. It doesn't have a title, except its working title: Richards. Feel free to suggest a title if anything occurs to you. I wrote it one day in January, and there it sat until today -- I had managed to forget I'd written it! (It was entertaining to read, though.) Weighing in at 8743 words, this is in the novellette range. I doubt I'd be able to sell it.