“She probably thinks the story-line is the most important thing.”

From a LitHub post titled “It is 1979 and Ludvik Vaculik Has a Terrible Case of Writer’s Block”:

“When I write a novel,” Lenka told me, “they reject it as being too much like a film script. The film people tell me it’s a novel. I gave the children’s publishers something; they said it was quite good but someone else should have written it.” She is nut brown and skinny as a rake; a kiss-chaser. A big kid just beginning to behave like a woman. But from her face with its oddly coarse features, there gaze out enquiring eyes that are much older.

At page 60 of the fairly-well-typed manuscript I suddenly realized that the novel already had four pairs of characters of different ages and backgrounds whose lives were in full flight and I was eager to know what would happen next. It involved me. Her language is not developed, however, and she lacks a distinct voice. I expect she doesn’t worry too much about it. She probably thinks that the story-line is the most important thing. I hate the thought of having to say something to her about it.