How Many Pages Is A Novels & Stories

One, matches the color of the moon. I carefully open it and immediately note how frail the pages are, it's clearly old. A burst of impatience seems to rip through me and I bring up the bulk of the book’s pages and flick to the end. I stop with about a quarter of the book left, since it isn’t completely filled out. There’s a list of names, going back hundreds of years.

I ask, being thoroughly unimpressed by the one page file in front of me. “No, they are actually around 10 pages long. You seriously have had nothing going on in your life ever. I actually double checked the file and asked my assistant where are the other-“ “Okay I get it!” I say with gritted teeth. “Like I actually felt a little sad.” This son of a bitch, “Now back to why you are here.” He says making me sit up straight.

"No, you don't understand. I need you to TYPE two thousand copies." My jaw dropped. "Each paper must be fifty page long, Times New Romans, font size 11, 12, and so on. Keep increasing the font size for each paper and use a different font for each letter. I need it delivered unfailingly to me by the end of today." What?! "B... But Mr Winston. Sir!" He was sitting back at his seat now and focusing on his computer, paying me no heed. He.. he wanted me to TYPE TWO THOUSAND copies of the SAME 50 PAGED letter?!

At some point Dominic said, "Fifteen years." "Fifteen years," Elena confirmed. "Do you remember the ninety pages?" he asked. "You were not supposed to be so impressed by the ninety pages," she said. "Most people would have thought it was excessive." "Most people would have been wrong," he said. "The ninety pages were exactly right. The problem required ninety pages." He looked at her. "That was the first thing I understood about you. That you gave problems exactly what they required and not what was convenient." Elena looked at her wine glass. "You did the same."

Apart from the size being thrice smaller compared to our previous apartment, the room only had one small window and doesn't have AC. So before Penelope's forehead could produce sweat, we started studying the book. The book had almost a thousand pages. What I proposed to maximize our scanning was we equally divided the number of pages. For the first half of the book, Penelope took a look at them while the rest were mine. We studied and read every image and word written on every page. We still don't know what exactly we are looking for but as long as it has something to do with the creation of the cure to get rid of Karen's monster without killing her human side.

he said calmly but there was still a hint of irritation in his voice. My eyes widened as I took in the sheer volume of this folder. It looked like about 250 pages if not way more. “What? All of this?” I asked in shock. “Did I stutter?” He asked, clearly unamused. “N-no, but this is a whole lot to finish in just a couple of hours,” I explained. Even if I worked on this all night without a break, it'd take at least two days to finish. “Complaining on your first day already?”

"He left it on read? Do we look like a fucking book to him?" 1212 Number of words Edit

Summarising takes time, dude. Still, I tried, and with my knowledge of the computer, the file was founded in 2 minutes. It was encrypted, for god’s sake! I guessed the correct word related to business with the clue he gave. After that, I saw the length. OH GOD. IT HAS BLOODY 12 PAGES!! “Sir, this is-” “I’m going out,” he said and went out of the cabin. WOW. GREAT. I still tried and could only summarize 2 pages when he entered the office again.

I lose myself in Elena's world, in her choices, in her pain. Hours pass. Daniel brings me water, then dinner on a tray, then disappears to give me space. I write until my eyes blur and my fingers ache. Finally, at midnight, I save the document and close the laptop. Fifteen pages. Fifteen pages of truth disguised as fiction. It's a start. I head upstairs to find Daniel already in bed, reading. He sets down his book when I enter. "How much did you write?" "Fifteen pages. Chapter one and part of chapter two."

Smaller ones, thin like an old bible, yellowed with page break apart. Once there pages were successfully separated, I carefully put the knife down, not wanting to slice any pages or myself. The pages smelt like mould and looked ancient, they looked like they would be grimy to the touch but they felt like silk. The amount of small little pages were like a book of their own, how could this be hidden away for so long and no one notice it?