In narrative, the breathing is derived not from the sentences but from broader units, from the scansion of events. Some novels breathe like gazelles, others like whales or elephants. Harmony lies not in the length of the breath but in its regularity. And if, at a certain point (but this should not occur too often), the breathing breaks off and a chapter (or a sequence) ends before the breath is completely drawn, this irregularity can play an important role in the economy of the story; it can mark a turning point, a surprise development. At least this is what we find in great writers.

Godt sagt! (3) Varsle Svar

Sist sett

Turid KjendlieAnne-Stine Ruud HusevågHarald KAmanda AKirsten LundPär J ThorssonIngunn SFrank Rosendahl SlettebakkenCathrine PedersenEivind  VaksvikLilleviBerit RTanteMamieElin SkjerengTrine Lise NormannIngebjørgrubbelBertyHilde Merete GjessingPiippokattaJulie StensethTralteMads Leonard HolvikMcHempettTine SundalFrode TangenBjørg Marit TinholtDemeterKristineAnette SAnette Christin MjøsVigdis VoldNorahVannflaskeIngvild SJohn LarsenAneedgeofawordEgil StangelandInger-Lise