browser icon
You are using an insecure version of your web browser. Please update your browser!
Using an outdated browser makes your computer unsafe. For a safer, faster, more enjoyable user experience, please update your browser today or try a newer browser.


This is where we write things. You might even say it’s this site’s reason for being.

Pritchard’s Law

Pritchard’s Law says, in one (narrow) application, there will be an inverse relationship between the amount of plot per page in a novel and the quality of its prose.  The more plot, the worse prose. Below are passages from various novels quoted by James Wood in The New Yorker.  He specifically singled out these passages … Continue reading »

Categories: Non-Fiction | 1 Comment

Annals of Superhuman Persistence: Vol. II: Hugh Howey

Four years ago, he decided to give writing a shot. He and his wife were living in a 750-square foot house in Boone, N.C. He was unemployed; his wife was working as a psychologist. He had an idea for a story about a young spaceship pilot who travels across the galaxy in search of her … Continue reading »

Categories: Non-Fiction | Leave a comment

Objet Trouvé: Diminished Nerve House with a Assuredness Pool

Big Rock is an attribute of 140 acres two hours drive from Sydney. This has been set up next to Edward Szewczyk, an Australian designer Polska comply. That is, underestimated complicated complicated, knives home is the goal of any owner and their acquaintances rocking the city.

Categories: Non-Fiction | Leave a comment

Annals of Superhuman Persistence: Vol. I: Barry Malzberg

from Down Here in the Dream Quarter, Doubleday, New York, 1976 pp. xvi-xxi   My first piece, written in 12/65 My second written three months later My third SF piece, written in September My fourth was written in 11/66.  Campbell told my agent

Categories: Non-Fiction | Leave a comment

Reversed Polarities

When I was very young, the gravity inside our house was accidentally reversed.  Upon crossing the threshold a person, unless he was prepared, would immediately fall upwards, cracking his head on the ceiling.  On one occasional, this effect paralyzed a mailman.  Those of us who knew what to expect partially rotated our bodies so as … Continue reading »

Categories: Fiction, Writing | 3 Comments

Nice Stories

The Mystery of the Locked Room Murder Inspector Ford tried the knob.  It didn’t budge.  The heavy wooden door was locked from the inside. “Lord Bromley always takes breakfast at half nine, sir,” the butler, Remington, pontificated.  “When he didn’t respond, that’s when we called the constabulary.” Inspector Ford knelt and looked through the keyhole.  … Continue reading »

Categories: Fiction, Writing | Leave a comment

Nepotism is Great!

Nepotism is much maligned among losers without famous and rich parents, but in the most exclusive clubs in America, the truth is whispered: nepotism is great!  Nepotism is the lifeblood on which our society runs.  If you don’t believe me, just ask its beneficiaries.  I mean, who are you going to trust: a bunch of … Continue reading »

Categories: How the World Works, Non-Fiction | 1 Comment

Dating the Uzbek Way

As if their ability to consume mounds of boiled cabbage and not get fat isn’t enviable enough, Uzbek women have yet another reason to make their American counterparts jealous: their relationships. According to Gulshanoy Nebiyeva, author of What Uzbek Women Know: About Love, Sex and Other Matters of the Heart and Mind, Uzbek women enjoy … Continue reading »

Categories: How the World Works, Non-Fiction | Leave a comment

I Had a Balloon

When I was a child, I had a balloon.  I enjoyed the balloon.  Whenever I met another child who also had a balloon, I would say, “This one is like me, he also has a balloon.”  There was an immediate bond between us.  If he asked me a favor, I would comply, reasoning that he … Continue reading »

Categories: Fiction, Writing | Leave a comment

You Couldn’t Pay Me Enough to be a Millionaire

There’s a lot of people in this country with tough jobs.  There’s the dog groomer, risking rabies every time he picks up his scissors.  There’s the chimney sweep, covered in soot and singing some nonsensical ditty in a Cockney accent.  There’s the chicken-sexer, constantly being propositioned by chickens.  But I think the worst job of … Continue reading »

Categories: Fiction, Writing | Leave a comment