living as an embodied spirit in a concupiscible world

Monday, February 23, 2015

Maybe I Can Write a Novel

There are two reasons I cannot write a novel: 1) I have trouble creating a plot that both lasts that long and resolves well; and 2) I have trouble with the details needed to make it seem real.

It turns out that the second one might not be a problem -- Futility Closet recently noted that Walter Scott and Fyodor Dostoyevsky had troubles with their sunsets.

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