Author Charles Dickens was born 202 years ago today. He was a peculiar person, being obsessive-compulsive, a practical joker and an egomaniac and all, and he was pretty odd as a writer, too. He published his novels in weekly or monthly installments before he finished them, which must have been nerve-wracking for author and editor alike.
Serial writing, one episode at a time, without a predetermined ending. Maybe we should think of Dickens as a sort of Victorian blogger.
Related:
“Happy Birthday, Charles Dickens: The Beloved Writer on Grief and How to Heal a Mourning Heart,” Maria Popova, Brain Pickings
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