Does anybody want to see a fragment of a novel? If so, note instead of replying here.

It's the second half of a novel, and about a quarter of the entire length. It's a 30, 000 word monologue by a former pop philosopher concerning living alone with his brother, a former Master Thief, in an abandoned mansion. It's all one long paragraph and sixty years pass over the first 60 pages and then more years pass over the last 15. The prose is entirely understandable, or least as understandable as it would be to someone who had read the first three-quarters of the novel. What I mean to say is that it's a little abstract. I've been working on this section steadily these last five months--three or four hours each day, on average--and the novel itself for about twice that. This is the only section nearing completion.

I don't know if any of you have read my older stuff, but it's in somewhat of a different vein.