If you think fiction is easy*

In Current reading, Drafts, Hautvoir on March 13, 2014 at 8:20 am

A library book, so I hope I discover where I left it in mid-sentence.

I hadn’t read a Sherlock Holmes in many, many decades. I’d forgotten how annoying the character is with his utter certainties. The only amusing moment in the opening pages of The Hound of the Baskervilles occurs when Sherlock shows a bit of pique. The good doctor consulting him has just mentioned the name of Bertillon, another man he admires. Holmes recovers and sends good old Watson off to do the footwork. At which point I got bored.

The book is somewhere around, unless the Hound of the Baskervilles carried it off into a parallel  universe. A universe in which this apartment exists, similar down to the last detail except for one: it contains the missing pair of every lost sock and glove I ever owned, plus the emails I never receive and the letters that don’t reach me. The Hound lives there. The entrance portal? Two, in fact: the ormolu mirror in the living room (entrance), the ormolu mirror in the library (exit). When he’s not slinking on the moors or prowling through the neighbor’s apartment (mine), the Hound lives a quiet life, and enjoys his dainties with tea. I’m sure his lair is neater than mine, although he never does any housework. No one visits there. The broom is bewitched and serves as governess to the invisible servants i.e. souls in The Hound’s employ following a Faustian pact that

goodbye, things to do. With any luck, I’ll put down a few pages of decent writing, at some point in the day or night. (Pages? I’ll settle for a good transitional paragraph.)

* I suggest you stick with it a bit longer.


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