What if I have only one novel in me?
As I’m writing this post, I’m juggling three longform writing projects:
- An absurdist comedy novella
- A vampire hunting novel
- A literary novel about fatherhood
The literary novel is the only one I can imagine publishing.
The vampire story is so far outside what I typically write.
I’ll likely stick with the absurdist comedy just to complete it. I need reps in writing something longer than a short story.
I’ve been stewing on the literary novel for almost two decades at this point. The story has evolved as I’ve gotten older. Wisdom says I should hurry up and finish it before it evolves yet again. At this rate, I’ll be lucky to publish it in my golden years, begging the question of whether I have enough time left for a second novel.
Many writers fear they may have only one novel in them. It’s a point Chuck Palahniuk has brought up multiple times as he’s warned that literary writers risk running out of material because their stories are too personal.
I won’t argue that Palahniuk is wrong in his assessment of the risk. But I ask, How bad would that be, really?
If you publish only one novel, you’ve still published one more than most people. How many writers publish only one novel?
Is it safe to say the secret’s out that writing is a horrible plan for getting rich? Sure it’s possible, but your writing most likely won’t replace your day job—it will instead be funded by your day job.
So what’s the big deal about having only one novel in you? Is that really the worst thing?
One is one more than none. So there’s that. 
