On August 30--four days after I woke with a crushing pain in my chest--I completed a draft of a new novel. The manuscript sits on my desk next to my computer monitor. It's a few thousand words shy of meeting the optimum length for its target market, but is otherwise complete. All I need to do is add a few new or expand a few existing scenes to get it to the appropriate length. Then it'll need one last editing/proofreading pass before it'll be ready so submit. It'll be one of the first things I do once I regain a decent attention span.
I haven't written many novels. This is my fifth. All four previous novels were published by small presses--two received great reviews, two others were also released as audio books--but none sold particularly well. The novel sitting in front of me has the potential to sell to a larger publisher, and I have reasonably high hopes for it.
During the last few weeks spent finishing the draft of this novel, I also started outlining another novel, one intended for the same publisher. Although the outline is quite rough at this point, I think I'll be able to complete it in a reasonable amount of time once I can return to the keyboard.
Does this mean I'm abandoning short stories? Not hardly. Short stories are my bread-and-butter and are likely to remain so for quite some time.