My next story started out as a very simple idea.
Honestly, I expected it to finish up somewhere around the 20 page mark, which would have made it one of my purer examples of a true short story format (my last two were in the 50 to 80 page range). The plan was to edit and release by November's end.
The idea was relatively simple: the reader is a fly on the wall to an ambiguous conversation between husband and wife. There is talk of their child. He is lamenting his alcoholism. She is patient and undertanding. At some point we discover that wife and child are in fact charred apparitions, their condition the result of his actions.
The problem is that the story took on a life of its own. Currently I have around 120 pages of a first draft and I am still actively writing. The story in hand is barely recognizable as the thing it started life as, and I am very excited about it. Quite unintentionally I've wandered beyond novelette territory and into the land of the novella, and I still dont know myself how much more is needed to tell the story correctly.
I'll keep writing.
Whether it turns out to be 100 pages, or 200, it is already my most intricate piece, and I will ensure it is also my best.