Another novel thought

I am at pages 138. I figure I have to start wrapping things up. Perhaps about 60 to 70 pages to go. No more than that.

I also feel that things ought to be coming to a crescendo. And it's a little dismaying that they don't seem to be. Yes, circumstances are playing themselves out. Characters are moving, seem to be growing and they're talking a whole lot. But I am not sensing the kind of urgency that the later pages of a novel ought to be invested with. Am I stuck in a long novel? Qualm qualm qualm.

At Border's yesterday, I looked at the books in my "sector"...and came across only one that was something close to three inches thick ala War & Peace. The others were at a comfortable inch or inch and a half.

But it struck me as self-indulgent. I recall RS from 100 years ago saying to me, thin books don't sell. But still.Unless you're talking about an epic with a cast of thousands like, say War & Peace, I really have difficulty reconciling that kind of length in this kind of sector.

Call me a cynic. But one of the genuine charms of this genre resides in its brevity.

I think.

One more idle Idol thought

Neil Diamond was a fun night and all. But it occurs to me that there are other songwriters that deserve Idol nights. Off the top of my head, what about Kenny Rogers, Billy Joel, Abba, The Carpenters, Michael Jackson, Diane Reeves, Patti Austin. A Patti Austin night would be cool.