Of mystery there is no end. Of clarity, there is precious little.
Stories should be natural as apples, brief as lust, long as a thought.
I read assiduously. I kept in touch with my species.
There is always something for which there is no accounting. Take, for example, the whole world.
The prose as such has to be singing the song the story is telling.
I can only gesture at what makes a story good.