Length Of A Book Novels & Stories

Melinda's and Kieran's sharp, piercing eyes, scanned the endless rows of books. Zora led them around the library, pointing out the different sections and genres. There were books on philosophy, science, art, and history, each one meticulously cataloged and arranged on the shelves. The titles were written in elegant calligraphy, and the bindings were richly adorned with gold leaf and embossed lettering. Kieran and Melinda were overwhelmed by the sheer size of the collection, and they couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sheer amount of knowledge that was contained within these walls.

Three Months Long is a story set in Abuja, in predominantly two districts, Wuye and Jabi. Peter and Olivia are in love and want to have a future together. However, Olivia is older than Peter by a few years and already a graduate while Peter is still a freshman in the university . While Peter’s family is not perturbed about the difference in age and academics , Olivia’s family won't have any of it. Peter promises Olivia a forever love but will their love stand the stern test from their parents and the Nigerian society where it's expected for a man to be several years older than his partner? As the story unravels, love, fear, uncertainty, parental pressures determination, trust and values are

Luna Martha informed me, handing me a stack of paper which I put on my lap. The title read 'Rules for Dinners’ and it was one of the many books which she had given me to read and study. This book was twenty pages long and it had a load of words and images which told me what to wear, how to act and so forth. I really felt bad for the trees that this book came out of.

The knowledge contained within the book was unlike anything I had ever seen before, and I knew that it would change my life forever. When I made to hold the book, I noticed its intricate designs etched into the cover. The patterns were so detailed and precise, it was as if they had been carved by hand. I ran my fingers over the designs, feeling the grooves and ridges beneath my fingertips. The book felt ancient, as if it had been around for centuries.

"You hated it?" "No." "You loved it?" "No." "That narrows it down." Walter looked down at the book. His thumb brushed the edge of the cover. A tiny movement. Easy to miss. "I finished it." Lois stared. "Already?" "It wasn't very long." "It was four hundred pages." Silence. The silence answered for him. Her eyes widened. "You stayed up reading." "No." "You absolutely stayed up reading." "I had insomnia." "Convenient." For the briefest moment, Walter looked almost embarrassed.

The reading chair was two feet from his. Two feet was: the distance across a kitchen island, the distance from one end of a short table to another, the distance at which you could hear the quality of another person's breathing without straining for it. Two feet was — I was making a deliberate and slightly absurd effort not to measure it in terms of the distance from where my hand rested on the arm of my chair to where his hand rested on the arm of his, which was also two feet, which was the same two feet, and I was going to read my book. I read my book.

More, if you count from the lecture hall. The third book is the longest of the three: four hundred and twelve pages, which is forty-one more than she expected and exactly as many as it needed. The final chapter took a year. Not because the writing was slow but because the argument required one more thing to be understood before it could be said, and the understanding arrived in January and she spent four months finding the language for it. The title is: The Practice the Research Earned: On the Relationship Between the Life You Did Not Choose and the Life You Build.

I shove it back onto the shelf, the motion stirring a cloud of dust that stings my eyes. Finally, in the dimmest section of the floor, I spot it: A History of the Mate Bond. Its faded red leather cover is cracked with age, barely holding the book together. My heart sinks as I pull it free. The book is massive, easily over two thousand pages, the weight of it pulling at my arms.

We have come to the end, and while it is a bit abrupt, I’d like to clarify some things. The book is already at 290 thousand plus words, I was really worried about its readability because anything longer would probably scare readers off. I don’t know how everything usually operates because I am a mildly new author on the platform and this is my first completed book, but it felt like Luna Scarlett was getting long, and if I was to go further into settling some other points in the story….. It’d have been way longer. Now to pick up some of the points I left unfilled in the story (Without giving any spoilers of course.)

The book was very old, the pages yellowed and the leather binding fragile. “How long do Fae live?” I asked him. “Not long enough,” he replied without looking away from his book. “How old are you?” He looked around his book at me, and his eyes fell to the picture. He reached out his hand and the book slid across the table to him, causing the apprentice nearby to gasp and shoot a look out of the corner of his eye.