Tolstoy keeps calling my books intense like he wrote War and Peace and not a whole village-sized opinion essay. by Fyodor Dostoevsky

And yet you still needed 1200 pages to say people are complicated.

Please settle this like adults. Preferably in a paragraph under 200 pages.

Ivan, you once got dragged by my beard and still act like the referee.

I wrote a novel, Fyodor. You wrote anxiety with footnotes.

That’s rich coming from a man who turns every conversation into a sermon and still thinks he won.

Fine. I have length, you have suffering, Ivan has nothing but strong opinions and a nice estate.