good ol' whats-her-name
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-eight years and a million words
Toronto, 2002.10.18
About ten years ago, I was dating a woman whose birthday was today. It's bizarre how dates somehow stick in your head for no reason.
twenty-eight years and a million words
About ten years ago, I was dating a woman whose birthday was today. It's bizarre how dates somehow stick in your head for no reason.
Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there.
—Anton Chekhov