I realized as I sat to write that I have no stamina in an authorial sense. I lack ideas that could be extended into something long enough to be a short story, in addition to the sticktoitiveness (i love that word) to turn my poorer ideas into lengthy drivel.
Apparently it took Joyce ten years to write A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.
And Fitzgerald is not so much a storyteller as a word-smith.
The first two of Bradbury's books were thrown together collections of short stories.
I'm not without hope. I hope.
On a similair but slightly bloggier note, I have retrieved my signed copy of Bradbury Stories : 100 of His Most Celebrated Tales. I saw him speak back at good old Long Beach City College, and got a copy signed. Go me.
So on a less bloggy note, be warned that the next thing I post here will probably be lengthy SOC, so the more linear of you... Well, screw you too.
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