He called it A Study in Scarlet. When it appeared in
the shops, I hurried out to buy it, and then sat for
hours in a park reading it. The story was excellent -
fast -moving, exciting and clever. I ran back to Baker
Street. I could not wait to give the book to Holmes.
He looked up quickly as I entered the room.
'You're late, Watson,' he said. 'Were you ashamed to
come here with that book in your hand?'
'Ashamed, Holmes?' I cried. 'No! ACD has done well. I
see you have read it. Why don't you like it?'
I was soon sorry that I had spoken.
'Like it? It is rubbish, wild and fantastic rubbish. He has
been careless with the facts, added all kinds of
unnecessary lies, and made the most stupid
mistakes.'
'But Holmes ... ' 'I wonder what kind of doctor he is. I
am sorry for his patients. I would not be surprised to
hear that he had cut off a man's leg because the
man had a stomach ache. He is clearly not
interested in facts.'
'Holmes,' I said as calmly as I could, 'a writer does not
just report facts. He must make sure that the story is
interesting to read. I am sure you understand that.'
Holmes smiled at me sweetly.