Get a free copy of the new mini novella, “The Drowned Town.” What’s the catch? There’s no catch!
When it comes to genre fiction, novel length is not an artistic choice. Why is this the case? Who decides how short is too short for a novel?
If memory is unreliable, is there really any difference between a novel and a memoir? The answer is more complicated than you might think.
You will say that I am mad—for who but a madman could devise so remarkable a species of vengeance, marked by such intricate dissimulation, such exquisite cunning?
This is one of the easiest: “On Monday, I sold 3/7 of my pears; on Tuesday, I sold 16 more than 1/2 of the remainder, and had 20 pears left. How many had I at first?”
Could I market this book as the shortest novel ever written? Maybe. Here’s how.
Why I’ve never included a dedication in any of my books … and why I might start doing it from now on.
Two books claim to have the answer. But the answer each one presents is very different from the other.
P.T. Barnum: king of ballyhoo, prince of humbugs, sultan of spin … giver of financial advice? As Barnum himself said, there’s a sucker born every minute.