My novel has been completely derailed.

Forced off the tracks.

Pushed aside.

By what? A short story idea that has grabbed me and won’t leave me alone. It keeps saying, “Write me! Write ME! WRITE ME NOW!”

“But,” I tell it, “I’m a third the way through writing a novel. I need to concentrate on that.”

“Your freaking novel will still be there when you’re done with me,” it argues back. “Strike while the iron is hot! I’m short! I’m uncomplicated. And … I’m very, very fun.”

My resolve is eroding. Fun is good. Fun sounds like fun.

So, my novel has been derailed by a fun little short story. Let’s hope it really is short.