Oh, I am nowhere NEAR reading all of William Dean Howells's fiction. He wrote! So much! While also editing The Atlantic, writing copious essay contributions, introducing Americans to Russian writers in translation (he was a big booster of Tolstoy and Turgenev, or Tourgenieff as ye old timey writers seem to spell it), and also boosting the careers of many, many, MANY writers, as he apparently knew everyone in the American literary scene.

I realize he did not have twitter to fritter away his time but NONETHELESS. Did he ever sleep??