[This letter was found unfinished, among his papers after his death. His publishers had discussed many times his writing of a novel, but the following letter constitutes the only record of his own opinions in the matter. The date is surely 1909 or 1910.] My Dear Mr. Steger: My idea is to write the story of a man--an individual, not a type--but a man who, at the same time, I want to represent a "human nature type," if such a person could exist. The story will teach no lesson, inculcate no moral, advance no theory. I want it to be something that it won't or can't be--but as near as I can make it--the TRUE record of a man's thoughts, his description of his mischances and adventures, his TRUE opinions of life as he has seen it and his ABSOLUTELY HONEST deductions, comments, and views upon the different phases of life that he passes through. I do not remember ever to have read an autobiography, a biography, or a piece of fiction that told the TRUTH. Of course, I have read stuff such as Rousseau and Zola and George Moore and various memoirs that were supposed to be window panes in their respective breasts; but, mostly, all of them were either liars, actors, or posers. (Of course, I'm not trying to belittle the greatness of their literary expression.) All of us have to be prevaricators, hypocrites and liars every day of our lives; otherwise the social structure would fall into pieces the first day. We must act in one another's presence just as we must wear clothes. It is for the best. The trouble about writing the truth has been that the writers have kept in their minds one or another or all of three thoughts that made a handicap--they were trying either to do a piece of immortal literature, or to shock the public or to please editors. Some of them succeeded in all three, but they did not write the TRUTH. Most autobiographies are insincere from beginning to end. About the only chance for the truth to be told is in fiction. It is well understood that "all the truth" cannot be told in print--but how about "nothing but the truth"? That's what I want to do. I want the man who is telling the story to tell it--not as he would to a reading public or to a confessor--but something in this way: Suppose he were marooned on an island in mid-ocean with no hope of ever being rescued; and, in order to pass away some of the time he should tell a story to HIMSELF embodying his adventure and experiences and opinions. Having a certain respect for himself (let us hope) he would leave out the "realism" that he would have no chance of selling in the market; he would omit the lies and self-conscious poses, and would turn out to his one auditor something real and true. So, as truth is not to be found in history, autobiography, press reports (nor at the bottom of an H. G. Wells), let us hope that fiction may be the means of bringing out a few grains of it.