Arguments for brevity, the possibility of wit
It’s not as though we have such precise notions of the length of a novel, which has been described as a narrative fiction of “a certain length.”

The site has been down, owing to server overload. Some of that is the
traffic generated since the four pieces I posted yesterday, but most of it has
nothing to do with this site but with another dealing with UFOs and
nuclear weapons.
My webmaster suggests that as a way of increasing traffic, and I guess it would be.
In the meantime, knowing the content my visitors -- from 50
countries, 33% from the U.S., 21% from Canada, and all you others from across the planet -- and I are
interested in, he is looking into an alternative server.
There have also been issues for those of you registering on my site
and wishing to comment on the posts. More to follow on that.
In the meantime, you can still, if you wish, comment on Facebook, on LinkedIn, and on Twitter @lindaleith.
I apologize for the disruption and thank you for your patience.
Linda Leith
.ll.
It’s not as though we have such precise notions of the length of a novel, which has been described as a narrative fiction of “a certain length.”

What interests me in these gardens is their design and imaginative daring, along with their thoughtful and often playful deconstruction of the garden into its constituent parts. As a writer, I am also intrigued by the power of the language used to describe them. Among the most provocative – perhaps especially for a writer -- is the Jardin de la connaissance, a “secret and strange library” of walls, benches and floors made up of used books exposed to wind and weather – and varieties of mushrooms cultivated within some of the books.
Here is a world première view of Louise Tanguay's new photograph of the controversial Jardin de la connaissance.

It’s lunchtime, and the Café du clocher (88 av. Morel, Kamouraska), has a dozen or more tables in pretty tablecloths set out on the grass overlooking the St. Lawrence (there are tables indoors, as well). A gentleman has a basket of chanterelles he picked that morning in the woods nearby, and he’s selling them for $12 a pound. He has a guitar with him, and he sits down to play and sing as you sit down to an al fresco lunch of salad, smoked Kamouraska lamb and some of the local smoked fish.
Photo: Linda Leith

"We are living through an extraordinarily dynamic period of change from which no one will escape unscathed." -- Mike Shatzkin
