He began as a minor imitator of Fitzgerald, wrote a novel in the late twenties which won a prize, became dissatisfied with his work, stopped writing for a period of years. When he came back it was to...
My feet crunched over dry hickory leaves. Wood rangers had stapled up Smokey Bear (Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires!) signs along the state roads. One cigarette butt flicked out a passing car window...
What was Dr. Mera's motive for murder? I don't need to tell that to a writer of detective novels such as yourself. You know well enough yourself that even without a motive, a murderer lives to kill.
I was so high, I needed a stepladder to scratch my own ass.