Rus Articles Journal

How write novels?

Burn the monitor the screen,

the Wife - that tiptoes, it begins with

A the novel Which

is not present in the nature.

The plot at that not crude, Is thought over by

almost in perfection.

Missed the main character

In the detective agency.

His visitor is not shaven,

Is scared and moderately well-fad. confusedly he tells


That at night the servants are killed.

Questions, a bill is also made out.

of an Eye were lit, daring!

... The wife sandwich gives

I right there in the doorway disappears...

Ominous a pivbar the cosiness,

Where is a lot of dashing people.

There beer cheap drink

I greedy eat sandwiches.

On thin the Maiden - the perfected profile entered a heel


... The wife touched a hand,

Moved up a coffee cup...

Quote: - I will eat later!

As our life is importunate at times.

... The maiden herself, meanwhile, of

Closely approaches the hero.

Eyes at it are lit,

Such calling body!

... The offended wife`s voice: - Forgive to

, I as it is better, wanted...

And the voice of the maiden whispered:

- I know who you are and from where.

Here two approach a table... I will Not tell

any more.

With the workmate short council.

without having drunk up the beer Yet,

Immediately rose on a trace

Happy two detectives.

The author has spasms in a breast,

To the wife, addressing, he sighed:

- Native, behind beer descend!

A in a mouth dried up that everything.

... Some abandoned house,

I a ladder in a furious scratch. the Workmate said

: - Madhouse!

Why I that muck drank?

The ball of silhouettes arose

In embraces of a staircase.

Bandits opened a hiding place,

Try to take out tablets.

It was put in a plot

the Murderer only to track down that.

Heroes answered: - No!

Disobeyed the author both.

- For the hand head! Do not touch! -

Ordered a voice zealous.

Bandits opened

fire At moving detectives.

The workmate was something not in tooth,

From a bullet could not evade.

... The reader will find his corpse

On the forty fourth page.

The wife carried out on a shoulder,

I the author without any preludes

Exclaimed: - I want not beer! Start up

in the refrigerator will be.

I ask, treble my forces, I Want to be approved by

in prose!

Was angry the main character

I of all laid the mafioso.

Week there was cloudy it.

Solved to be fair,

When left a funeral,

to Reach the God uncle.

But here at fair winds

On spike heels

From cheap bar the maiden Could appear before it.

The soul which is crying out from wounds,

Wanted other variations. It the lady carried


I restaurant of the beginnings in love to speak.

And that was not aside,

From heart rushed back a blizzard,

For the first time at daybreak in a dream

he did not call the died friend.

... Otsel is a novelist on a bed.

the Draught of the cooled-down coffee.

- Where now to me to put

the Maiden - the perfected profile?

Per day, we want - we do not want,

To the hero it became attached. by

to It intim is dangerous -

Is necessary incredible rage!

... There left to mother the wife,

That the author readily accepted.

A after a glass of

wine Decided to drown the heroine.

The rivers width frightens,

Was gone at the woman courage.

In way choked it,

I the author wanted to sleep.

Two nights. A palm at a cheek.

to Spit that a plot not according to the plan!

A the brains

sleeping, it seems, Spin continuation of the novel.

There wild shouts in night,

With pursuits in the car!.

It sharply on legs swelled up -

hammered Fountains of emotions.

Also only one gnaws it:

He sees a fine body.

It plunged on a bottom...

Ah what it, a dog, did?

Scribbles, without having raised the head, Undressed and a shiver without hiding


... At the beginning of a chapter 10

It appeared live.

And the main character - well done!

of Business in a week settled.

On a front sight was the godfather

I someone`s cousin uncle.

- You are a vile scrap of a string,

Which dipped into shit! your

my fair bullet will not wash away guilt


Prepare, an offspring of troubles!

you Will die - you will not feel even!

... The hero was brought by the gun,

It this day was not loaded.

At the moment the string evaporated,

I the author was bent wearily. such a state the wife


B in its late morning.

Having seen it, it raised a howl:

- I touched upon a thin subject,

But here absolutely forgot

to Hand to the character cartridges!

Storing sympathy in heart,

the Wife silently was engaged in business

I long during the day

felt sorry for the Spiritual miracle.

- Your style is unusually good,

Ya I am not jealous of your subjects.

you Will have a sleep whom it is necessary, you will kill,

But only sing a chop!