#also i think shakespeare in love might have been technically middle school

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

other movies i watched in high school because my mom told me to: shakespeare in love, the pianist, sex lies and videotape, midnight cowboy, o brother where art thou, dude where's my car

[rallamajoop]

The Witcher: The Games vs the Books part 2 – Characters and Accents

So, I've already talked at length about the relationship between the Witcher books and games, but how well they captured individual characters is its whole own subject – and you’d better believe I have enough thoughts on it for a whole extra post.

Andrej Sapkowski's skill for creating vivid and engaging characters really is so much of what brings the books to life, and no matter how much work an adaptation might put into worldbuilding and plot, it's the characters you've really got to nail to get the long-time fans on board. Especially when you’ve done what the games have, framing themselves as a direct continuation of Sapkowski's story. Nothing invites comparison to your source material like basically forcing fans to read the original novels to understand even half the backstory alluded to in-game. 

So how did they do? I can only offer my opinion – characterisation is necessarily going to be a lot more subjective than just telling you what plot points the games contradicted outright – but like any fan, I have opinions in plenty.

Of the main cast, I feel Yennefer is the character they've captured the best. They've done just as well with some supporting players – I have no real complaints about Dijkstra or Phillipa, for example, who are favourites of mine in both games and books. For the main players though, Geralt and Regis seem to be the ones who's differences I'm most inclined to forgive, whereas I don't feel like they've done Ciri justice at all. Book!Geralt is much less of a smartarse, for one thing, whereas Book!Ciri is much more of one. But if we're talking about the differences, I’m afraid we really need to start with Dandelion.

Dandelion

For all the genuinely good work the games do with characters, old and new, I don't think I can overstate what a disservice the they've done Dandelion, who I could not stand in TW3, but is now one of my favourite book!verse characters. Alas, Dandelion is a prime example of something the Witcher games really don't do well: camp. Being the archtypical bard, Dandelion is about as flamboyant as any enthusiastically-heterosexual man can be: you should be able to spot this guy by body language alone, he should be flouncing around and he should talk like a spoiled noble auditioning for Shakespeare. Book!Dandelion is over-the-top and ridiculous and just so much fun, and I loved him well before I'd even really gotten into the rest of the books around him.

Here's just a bit of dialogue from one of his first appearances, to give you a sense of how he and Geralt play off each other.

The  bard  seized  the  fingerboard  of  his  lute  and  plucked  the strings vigorously. ‘How would you prefer it, in verse or in normal speech?’ ‘Normal speech.’ ‘As you please,’ Dandelion said, not putting his lute down. ‘Listen then, noble  gentlemen,  to  what occurred  a  week  ago  near  the  free  town  of Barefield. ‘Twas thus, that at the crack of dawn, when the rising sun had barely tinged pink the shrouds of mist hanging pendent above the meadows—’ ‘It was supposed to be normal speech,’ Geralt reminded him. ‘Isn’t it? Very well, very well. I understand. Concise, without metaphors. A dragon alighted on the pastures outside Barefield.’

Though TW3's Dandelion certainly looks the part, you have to go hunting through art from the Gwent cards to find much that comes close to really capturing his personality (see left pic below – though even there, a Dandelion who'd voluntarily break his treasured lute is a very hard sell). Though a lot of fanart does better (right-below – credit goes to Tatiana Ortaliz).

But as poorly as the games capture his flamboyance, they're not that much better when it comes to taking him seriously. TW3 left me thinking he was all talk and no substance; the books make abundantly clear that he really is renowned enough to be welcome in courts across the continent. Though he often overestimates what he can talk himself out of, he isn’t stupid either: he's lectured at Oxenfurt, spied for Dijkstra, and then there are the moments where the frivolous playboy mask slips and you realise he's sometimes much better at understanding people and relationships than Geralt will ever be (which is honestly kind of funny considering how many of Dandelion’s relationships end with plates being thrown at him from an upper story). He's not at all above mocking Geralt when he deserves it either (and especially his personal and relationship issues) – Geralt will happily mock him right back.

We never do learn how they became friends (I'm pretty sure the incident listed in the wiki is just the date of their first expedition together, not their first meeting), but Geralt just doesn't form lasting friendships or romances with anyone he can't have an intelligent conversation with. And Dandelion is a damn good friend to Geralt – one who, despite being a helpless, squishy little bard, will keep Geralt's secrets under torture, or will follow him into Nilfgaard in the middle of a war simply because you don't let a friend make a trip like that alone. (Seriously, I don’t ship it nearly as much as some, but hot damn there is some material in here if you do.) In short, it's basically inconceivable that he'd leave an amnesic Geralt wandering around Vizima alone, as he does in the first Witcher game – which is the kind of thing I can mostly forgive as a gameplay conceit, only it doesn’t really get better from there.

He’s also supposed to be blond, something I don’t think is technically specified until fairly late in the novels, but 100% what I’d been picturing since his first description as a man in a colourful bonnet with cornflower-blue eyes (let’s face it: Dandelion’s hair isn’t the only thing about him that screams ‘blond’). It’s a shame no-one from the games to the show to the novels’ cover artists seem to have noticed – but at least there are some fanartists out there who were paying attention (credit for these goes to Asphaloth, Ghostcupdraws, Hvit-ravn (tumblr deleted), 94355 and itsmespicaa).

As for the games? Well, I cannot speak to how Dandelion came across in the original Polish, but I think it speaks worlds about the priorities of the English version that they didn’t even bother to cast someone with a halfway-decent singing voice as their master bard. There are isolated moments of dialogue that come close to sounding like book!Dandelion– mostly in Witcher 2, which comes closer to capturing the spirit of the books than either 1 or 3, or his attempts to convince his captor he's a disguised noble when you rescue him TW3 – but his voice actor is just painfully ill-suited to the role.

Geralt

Geralt fares much better than Dandelion, though he’s still a little hard to square with the Geralt of the books. Book!Geralt spends a lot more time sulking, just to begin with: he sulks because his job is complicated and gets him no respect, and because the world is unjust and unfair – and, most of all, he sulks because Yennefer has dumped him again. He also gets mocked for sulking, and usually deserves it. Book!Geralt is generally a lot more taciturn and a less prone to making smart comments just to have something to say – arguably because in book!Geralt's world, making smart comments often ends at the gallows, or at least with some corrupt official making your life much harder. Book!Geralt's world kind of sucks, and he's just got to put up with it.

As much as he often plays into the expectations of being an uneducated monster hunter, he's also got a more of an intellectual streak than you’d guess. He may prefer to stay out of politics (because damnit, his job is to save people from monsters, not people who are monsters), but he attended school at Nenneke's temple and has even taken classes at Oxenfurt academy, and there's a lot of thoughtful nuance to his opinions – his speech to Ciri about why he can't in good conscience take a stronger stance against the Scoiata'el contains a wealth of historical perspective, just for one example. Even his smart comments tend to be, well, somewhat smarter in the books.

Book!Geralt’s explicitly a lot younger than Yennefer – around 50 is the usual estimate, falling far short of the 100-ish the games suggest (the scandal of having a man fall for – gasp! – an older woman clearly didn’t bother Sapkowski one bit). You don’t see nearly as much "I'm getting too old for this" from book!Geralt, who's really not that old by witcher standards, and is apparently still hunting monsters long into his future. I'm also a little annoyed by the way they play off his hatred of portals like he's a grumpy old man who doesn't like mobile phones, when his distrust originally came from having seen the gruesome deaths that result when portals go wrong. This is not to say Book!Geralt lacks other ordinary human flaws, however – twice in the last two books of the main saga, he gets severely sidetracked after his ego gets the better of him (in the adulation he receives after being knighted, then after arriving in Toussaint), and it's quite some time before he properly gets back on track for that whole rescuing-Ciri thing again. He’s also pretty hopeless when it comes to romance and relationships – breaking things off gracefully is really not in his skillset.

So why does game!Geralt not bother me more? Well, he's the main player character of a game franchise, and one who has to carry the experience largely solo. Some adjustments for genre are pretty much inevitable in that position. He's certainly fared better than Meve, for example, who's been softened far more from her book characterisation for her PC role in Thronebreaker. Then there's the whole amnesia thing – it's easy to believe that sort of experience would change a man – and if he doesn't sulk so much as he used to, maybe he's grown up a bit. Geralt's also in many ways the straight-man of Sapkowski's Witcher universe – there largely as the reliable centre for other, louder personalities to play off. But I expect the real bottom line here is that I do still like game!Geralt enough to forgive him a lot of what he lacks.

The books never do describe Geralt as being very attractive – something book-based fanart often tries to reflect. The point has been made before that the rather-alien-looking Geralt of the first game (left pic above) is probably a lot closer to his book-description. However, the main distinguishing factor you’ll see in book-based fanart is probably the ubiquitous headband, which genuinely is what book!Geralt wears to make his hair behave (the example on the right above comes from Diana Novich).

All that said, if Sapkowski really wants me to believe that nearly so many women are eager to jump into bed with him, I’m going to have to shallowly assume our witnesses are unreliable on this front, and Geralt is at least as attractive as Witcher 3′s take on him. Nothing else makes sense. *g*

Regis

Regis varies mostly in that book!Regis is a lot more smug, sometimes verging on obnoxious – and a lot keener to make fun of Geralt (who generally deserves it). But then, Regis is old and wise and superpowered enough to dance rings around most everyone else – can you blame him? By Blood and Wine, Regis' overconfidence has been recently smacked down hard after his near-death-experience at the hands of Vilgefortz, and that kind of thing could knock some chips off anyone's shoulder. Throw in the fact that with Dettlaff, we have a situation not even Regis could make light of, and the changes to game!Regis make a certain amount of sense.

I do feel it's a bit of a shame that the vocal direction didn't work just a little bit harder to capture some of Regis' smugger side, or emphasise that his long-winded philosophising on human behaviour is supposed to sound a bit pretentious. This is actually something I suspect they were going for a few times in the script, but which didn't come through in the dialogue quite the way it was meant to. Still, again, I'm sure I'm biased by the fact that I like game!Regis far too much to find much fault in what they've done with him. They've done a lovely job capturing his friendship with Geralt too.

Looks-wise, there's a tendency in book-based art to portray Regis with long hair (even some pre-Blood-and-Wine Gwent art did so – see the two pics on the left above, from Gwent and early B&W concepts. The right-most pic is cover art from the books). I couldn't rightly tell you where long-haired-Regis comes from, though – perhaps it's described more explicitly in the original Polish, or perhaps it comes up in passing in some passage I've forgotten, though it may just as well just be a fannish meme.

The books do describe him as looking rather like a tax collector, slim, middle-aged, with an aquiline nose, prone to wearing black, and his hair as 'greying' or 'grey streaked', so presumably somewhat younger-looking than the game would have it. The hammer-horror-esque sideburns are likewise a game-verse addition, though I do like the look they went with – it's distinct from Geralt in a way that making him another long-grey-haired man wouldn't have been, and that's probably the point.

Being the hopeless Regis fan I am, I have quite the folder full of different fanart takes on book!Regis, so have a selection – art here is by gellihana-art, justanor, greysmartwolf, Nastyaskaya, NatalyLanier, beidak, natalliel, ellaine and afternoon63. For what it’s worth, I feel beidak’s (bottom pic, second from the left) comes the closest to what I’d have pictured personally, based on how he’s first described.

Ciri

I find it much harder to rationalise the changes to game!Ciri, who I didn't exactly dislike, but found stuck too close to the role of generic-macguffin-girl-who-just-wants-to-be-normal to be very interesting. Having read the books, not only do I much prefer book!Ciri, I'm not sure I can emphasize enough how much the game did NOT prepare me for utter gauntlet of whump and misery that girl survives in the last four titles. Book!Ciri is a character who works for me mostly because of the same flaws the game mostly strips her free of – TW3 makes some token noise about how you can't tell her what to do, but she’s an utter little royal brat when we first meet book!Ciri, and it’s so much of what brings her to life. She throws herself into her witcher training with the enthusiasm of a kid going completely native, but still revels in getting to be girly for a change when Triss first arrives at Kaer Morhen. She hates Yennefer at first, but soon bonds with her just as strongly as she ever did with Geralt, picking up some of Yennfer’s haughty mannerisms along the way. And then she gets thrown through a portal and lost in the distant wilderness, and the whole world comes down on her head.

The build up to the first time Ciri actually has to kill someone is intense... and things only get worse from there. Steadily. For another couple of novels at a stretch. Seriously, a major caveat that pretty much has to go into any rec for these books (and I will absolutely rec these books) is that Ciri's story gets heavy. So heavy one finds oneself using phrases like, "that time that one guy died of his wounds on top of her while semi-consensually feeling her up was honestly one of the less traumatic incidents in the period."

By the end of the novels, Ciri has nearly died of thirst, been beaten, tied up, dragged around the country as a prisoner, run with bandits and killed innocent people for the fun of it, done fantasy-cocaine and got a tattoo, fought off more than one attempted rape, been drugged, lain for multiple nights next to an impotent elf who completely fails to impregnate her, watched the bodies of her friends and girlfriend being mutilated in front of her, and did I mention where she got that scar? She has survived hell, and it is absolutely a testament to her own strength that she somehow comes through it and puts herself back together at the end. When Geralt finally arrives to rescue her, what matters most isn't that her ordeal is over, but that she finally knows she hasn’t been abandoned by everyone who’d ever loved her after all.

The Ciri of the books is fierce and wild and arrogant, but she's learned her morals from the best, and she holds onto them until she can't, then picks them back up again when she can, and above all she survives. For all that her story turns arguably too much of the last two books into a slog of misery, oh boy does it pay off at the end. And that's probably about as much as I can say about her Big Moment in the last book without spoiling too much, so suffice to say that by the end of the saga, Geralt has pretty much become a supporting character in Ciri's story, not the other way around. (Seriously, you’d be surprised how few chapters of the last two books he’s actually in.)

Finding art which captures the aspects of Ciri’s character and history which are missing from the game has turned out to be pretty hard, though the fanart above from her bandit phase takes a decent crack at it (credit to Loles Romero and NastyaSkaya). I do rather like that one shot of her on horseback beside her girlfriend too, which comes from Denis Gordeev’s illustrations for the novels (below).

How much of this does TW3 get across with her portrayal in the game? Well, she's still pretty headstrong, I guess. And they let you give a 'sorry, I like girls' answer in one bit of dialogue, so they remembered her girlfriend existed. That's nice. But game!Ciri still has a kind of wide-eyed innocence that book!Ciri lost years ago, while book!Ciri is a little force of nature in ways the games hardly even hint at, and that's a really shameful loss.

You'd think, with a character so young, it ought to be easier to imagine she's simply grown up since we saw her last, but so much of what's changed about Ciri feels like a step back rather than forwards. I can shrug off Geralt and Regis' differences and still enjoy their game-verse-selves, but Ciri leaves me genuinely disappointed.

I’d say the official art that comes closest to capturing book!Ciri is that one portrait of her as a very grumpy young child (right above). Some of the early concept art (left above) feels a little more like it has her attitude, though she’s rather too yellow-blonde – not to mention too pretty. I think it also bears pointing out that Ciri isn’t really supposed to be the kind of beauty she is in the game – even before she gets what’s meant to be a seriously ugly and disfiguring scar. (Fanart below by justanor and bobolip)

But of course, the male gamer fanbase can’t be expected to give a fuck about a girl they wouldn’t want to fuck, so game!Ciri must be generically gorgeous. Le sigh.

Triss

I suppose I should at least touch on Triss, too, though she's a very odd case. She's so out of character in the first Witcher game that I am wryly amused that the biggest thing they arguably do get right is that taking advantage of Geralt the moment he showed up with amnesia is... pretty well in-character for her (look, I gotta be honest here, I'm not much of a fan of Triss in any of her incarnations).

The second game does a much better job with her – she actually feels like book!Triss, she has some good dialogue, we're finally dealing with some of her conflicted loyalties to the Lodge and to Geralt – though by the third, her characterisation has been so softened into “the nice one” that none of that potentially meaty conflict is ever resolved, or even really mentioned. Perhaps there's more buried in the Triss-romance path, which I've never bothered with, but the writers seem to have just given up on dealing with anything that might make her look less than wholly sympathetic. Heck, we hardly even get a clear statement about why she and Geralt broke up between Witchers 2 and 3.

Even speaking as such a not-a-fan of Triss, I promise there is more they could've done with the character the books give us. There's her ongoing trauma in from the Battle of Sodden, where she was injured so badly she was memorialised as one the dead: the 14th of the hill. There's her furious impatience with the neutrality of both the witchers and the Lodge: Triss has fought and died for a cause, and is ready to do so again. The second game sort of gets into this, but by and large, the games really aren't up to tackling the moral complexity of having such a theoretically-sympathetic character as Triss, who was still broadly willing to go along with the Lodge's plans to pair Ciri off and get her pregnant as soon as possible – her own wishes be damned. No, instead, Triss has conveniently left the Lodge before the rest of them go spiraling into abject villainy in the second game, clearing all that messy grey stuff out of the conflict.

Of course, the really big unresolved plot point still hanging over book!Triss is how badly she needs to terms with the fact Geralt's just Not That Into Her, and never has been – but since the games want Triss to be a serious romantic option, that's definitely not getting the resolution it could've used.

Book!Triss also pointedly avoids any outfit with a plunging neckline because her chest is covered with the ugly scars she received in the Battle of Sodden, something the games did not have the guts to reproduce. In a more confusing note, the books do consistently describe her hair as 'chestnut', which we'd usually think of as meaning 'brown' – though it turns out the games actually may not have been wrong to make her a redhead, since in Poland 'chestnut hair' apparently mean dark red hair (google some pictures of actual chestnuts, and you'll see why). Still, the firy-red-haired Triss of TW3 who wears nothing but plunging necklines remains a bit of a stretch, however you slice it. Once again, TW2 gets her best (and I must say, gave her the nicest outfit) – though even here she's conspicuously unscarred in all her sex scenes.

(Leftmost pic above is official Witcher 2 art, whereas Triss-with-scars fanart comes to us – once again – from nastyaskaya)

Shani

Shani sort of falls into a similar category as Triss as someone who isn't terribly well-served by any of her appearances, given that both exist in the first game largely to compete for Geralt's attentions. But I can't honestly say I find Shani’s portrayal in the Hearts of Stone expansion to be much better – the degree to which either version exists solely to fall all over Geralt is a bit painful, especially given that their relationship in the books is limited to a single, undramatic hook-up. Book!Shani really only appears in a couple of chapters: we meet her as a medical student friend of Dandelion's, who's been surreptitiously selling pilfered university supplies to fund her degree, then later see her again in the final book, where she proves herself as a battlefield medic during the climactic Battle of Brenna. She's pragmatic to a fault, and I really can't see her as the type who needs Geralt to point out to her that her patient is dead, for example, or who'd subject a guy with Geralt's problems to such an extended feelings-dump as you'll get out of her during the wedding.

Shani is a reasonably logical book-character to bring back, if only because she’s one of those who explicitly survives the ending, but for my money, "serious contender for Geralt's affections" is just not a role she works in.

Anna Henrietta

The duchess of Toussaint, Anna Henrietta, is another case who differs more from her book counterpart than you might think. In the books, the duchess is by far the least competent of the (pleasantly many and) various female leaders and rulers we meet – she comes across as rather young and naive, and every bit as absurd as everyone else in the ridiculous fairy-tale duchy she rules. She is, for example, most displeased to learn that Nilfgaard's war against the north is ongoing (something her courtiers have carefully avoided mentioning in her presence), because she'd long since sent the Emperor a stern note demanding he brought it to an end. She promptly has one of her ministers sent to the tower for misinforming her, and demands the others prepare an even sterner note for the emperor, which will surely do the job.

After Dandelion (inevitably) cheats on her, she has him repeatedly sent to the gallows, only to change her mind and send him a reprieve at the very last minute each time. Picture yourself a much younger and prettier version of the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland, and you've about got her general vibe.

Blood and Wine sort of waves at this part of her character when she first speaks about Dandelion, and again in suggesting there's a widespread feeling she lacks compassion, and once more as she proves utterly immovable on the subject of her sister. But the generally sensible and insightful woman you deal with for most of the main story is a far cry from her book-verse characterisation. That’s a bit of a shame, because I feel like there's a lot more they could have done to blend the two versions of her. Still, it’s hard to argue the duchess we get suits the story being told around her.

Other characters

Much as I love Yennefer, Dijkstra and Phillipa, I don't really have much more to say about them because I feel the games have done such a good job. The Yennefer of the books gets to show a lot more depth and complexity simply because she has more scenes and more space in which to do so, but when ‘there isn’t more of her’ is your biggest complaint, the game is officially doing pretty well. I could certainly gripe her about how “dresses in black and white” seems to have been taken as “dresses in black with maybe a trace of white trim”, or how Yennefer and Triss seem to be the only sorceresses in the world capable of wearing pants, when Phillipa (just for one) is in sensible men’s clothing the very first time we meet her, but that’s getting into serious nitpicking territory.

(Not that Yen can’t look amazing in outfits with more white – art by Emily Caroll, theclashofqueens, BarbaraRosiak, and cosplay by greatqueenlina)

Vesimir, Lambert and Eskel, Geralt's fellow witchers from the School of the Wolf, fall into a similar category for me – though we spend far less time with them in the books, everything we see of them in the games feels like a fairly logical extension of their book-roles. Vesimir is somewhat over-played as the old fogey, and his death is painfully cliched, but the impact on the characters and Kaer Morhen still hits home – and the games do some especially great work expanding Lambert into a much more complex character. To my mind, the only shame is that more of the book-original characters didn't get the same treatment.

Who have I missed? There's Avallac'h, of course, but I think I've got him pretty well covered by that last post. Zoltan, perhaps inevitably, has had his personality largely flattened into 'generic dwarf', with nothing better to do than hang around Geralt and Dandelion. You wouldn't know Book!Zoltan was apparently incapable of turning away women and children in need, for example – even human women and children with the chronic inability to say thankyou for his help. Or that he eventually admits to Geralt that the luggage he and his friends are carrying comes from a decidedly unsavoury source for such a supposedly charitable, upstanding guy. Yes, even Zoltan gets to be a morally complicated character in the books – who knew?

Speaking of dwarves, pleased as I am that Yarpen Zigren gets remembered in TW2, he's an odd one to talk about, since even in the books, he appears to have had a substantial personality transplant between his two main appearances. Yarpen’s a largely comedic figure in The Bounds of Reason short story, where he cheerfully admits to having considered letting his men knock down a particularly pompous aristocrat and piss all over him to teach him a lesson, but he’s evolved into a studious voice of reason against the scoiata'el by Blood of Elves. TW2 doesn't do a particularly good job of capturing either version, which I suspect probably bothered me more than most people – I liked the later book-incarnation of Yarpen immensely (and not even just because he's one of few ever to really call Triss out on just how much she needs to stop misreading Geralt's friendship as anything more than it is). His chapter in Blood of Elves packs a hell of a punch.

On the subject of accents

I do have to wonder if I'd have warmed up to characters like Triss, Shani and Dandelion (or even Letho) more if they'd only had halfway decent voice actors. It's not just that none are exactly leading the talent at the acting part of the job, it's that their American accents stick out in TW3 like a sore thumb.

Geralt mostly gets away his own US accent by dint of being the very first character we meet, so we've gotten used to the way he talks long before we notice how he stands out – hell, maybe that's just how they talk down in Rivia (hilariously, book!Geralt eventually reveals he's not even from Rivia, but simply picked the place and taught himself the accent so he could feel a bit less like the abandoned foundling he is, which only gives us yet more excuse for why his accent might sound a bit weird). More importantly, Geralt is meant to stand out, to be the outsider wherever he goes, so having him sound like no-one else fits the character.

But neither Triss or Dandelion are "of Rivia", and by the time they show up we've had dozens of hours in a game where literally everyone else sounds British, or Scottish, or Irish, or vaguely-eastern-European in the case of the Nilfgaardians. So why do these weirdos sound like no-one else on the continent?

The short answer seems to be that every character with an American accent in TW3 is someone who had an American accent in at least one of the previous games, which were way looser with their casting and had enough incidental American accents around that they didn't stand out. Clearly, by TW3, consistency with prior games has been prioritised over consistency with literally anything else we’re hearing.

Gaetan is an exception to the rule as the only new character (at least that I caught) with an American accent – presumably because between Geralt, Eskel, Lambert, Berengar, and Letho (and cohorts), some sort of 'witchers have American accents' rule has been pretty well established (another random American-accented witcher shows up in Thronebreaker, just to underline the point). We're going to mostly ignore Jad Karadin here, since his British accent is presumably a recent affectation to go with his new identity, and so makes sense.

This still doesn't really work though, since Letho’s school is all the way down in Nilfgaard (land of the Eastern European accents), while the oldest witcher from Kaer Morhen (Vesimir) is the one guy with a British accent. He sounds nothing like any of his students, despite the fact he's logically the guy they ought to have learned their accents from. So the logic falls in a heap however you slice it, and I'm thrown right out of the game.

With TW3 as your intro to the series, it feels almost as if characters like Triss and Dandelion have been assigned American accents because they're just too important to be saddled with the same pedestrian British accents as everyone else, which did nothing to endear them to me. The only one I eventually warmed up to was Lambert, and then only because he's just such a bitter asshole that he eventually goes full circle and comes out the other side (somewhere around when you've heard his miserable backstory, then gotten drunk together and told him how much you love him, man). Gaetan similarly snuck in under the same clause – American accents clearly work better for me in this series when attached to characters you're supposed to find pretty insufferable on first impressions.

Some final notes

To conclude, it seems only fair to throw in a quick nod to some of the more memorable book-characters who don't appear in the games. Neither Mother Nenneke (Geralt's sort-of-surrogate mother) or Vissena (Geralt's biological mother) ever appear either, alas – Vissena doesn't even merit so much as a Gwent card, which seems quite the wasted opportunity.

Milva, Cahir and Angouleme – the three remaining companions of Geralt’s who died alongside Regis but who were not so easily resurrected – naturally don’t appear. But nor are even really mentioned in all the games, which seems rather less than they deserve after giving their lives to Geralt's cause.

Cahir and Angouleme do at least have pretty badass Gwent cards to their names, though I am properly offended that Milva (who has the dubious honour of being my very favourite book character who doesn't ever appear in the games) is stuck with a card of her freaking death scene – which not only gets the scene wrong (believe me, there was no grimacing and gripping the arrow buried shallowly in her chest for poor Milva), but doesn't even bother to get her hair the right colour, for fuck’s sake. Basically, Milva was a stone cold badass and absolutely deserves better. #justice4milva

One can only guess how I'd have felt about some of these characters had I read the books before playing the games – I am obviously biased towards forgiving changes to characters whom I liked in their game incarnations, regardless of how they compare. Still, I think it does speak wonders that there still all these characters who suddenly made sense only after I'd met them in the books.

Even if only for Dandelion and Ciri, I can only dream of seeing a bit more of the book-original characterisations make it into the collective fannish consciousness. There's nothing wrong with getting into the canon purely based on the show or the games, but having read Sapkowski's novels, it's no longer any mystery how they spawned this massive franchise. That the saga wasn’t even fully available in English until well after Witcher 3 was released – a solid couple of decades late, and long after it had already been translated into Russian, French, German, Spanish and more – is a real shame. For once, it’s us in the anglophone world who’ve been missing out: these books deserve so much more than to be thought of as a footnote to the games or the show.

[rigelmejo]

this is gonna be just a mash of things this article made me think about - “why chinese is so damn hard”

In it, they wrote that:  At the end of three years of learning Chinese, I hadn't yet read a single complete novel.

Ok so. To be fair to them, one of the books they tried reading for pleasure (as in without a dictionary) was The Dream of the Red Chamber after 6 years of study. Which is like reading Shakespeare - its literary, its older, its fair if that is difficult especially for pleasure. (As in english speaking countries, we’ve been in school 9+ years before we’re asked to read Shakespeare and other classical type literary works).  

But back to focusing on the “end of three years” thing. 

When I started learning chinese, I was basically motivated by a person who wrote an article about how they looked at a little grammar, some radicals explanations, then brute forced 2000 common words memrise decks, then started reading with a click dictionary for pleasure. And it worked for them! And so, being me and very curious to ‘test’ if things work: I wanted to try it too. I did more prep work, more extra hanzi work than that article mentioned. And I don’t think it felt pleasurable with a click dictionary (I used pleco) for a while - but it was doable with a click-dictionary at that point so I do think that person who wrote the article was pretty honest about the progress they’d made. For me, and I think them if I remember correctly, that was around 8 months to start reading with a click dictionary. 

I read another article back in the middle of this, by Timo (who made Timo’s All in One Chinese anki deck), where he said he’d learned enough to pass HSK 4 in somewhere between 6 months to a year (I can’t remember exactly how long but it was a year or less). I think I covered all the HSK 4 words in memrise by 10 months, and probably felt comfortable with most of them around 14 months? And Now its been almost 2 years and if I were to take an HSK test that’s probably the one that I would pass with some study (I imagine I could try an HSK 5 one with some prep beforehand maybe?). HSK 4 is what I “aimed for” since I’d also read articles around that time of people saying that’s about when simple webnovels got “doable with a click dictionary” and when learning words FROM what you read started helping reading percent comprehension more than HSK. Which is a statement I agree with - I learned vocabulary mainly from reading after that point, and as a result it has definitely improved my reading comprehension and vocabulary (like it made Xiao Wang Zi pretty readable without dictionary etc, Zhen Hun is now readable without a dictionary, Daomubiji is), but these words I’ve picked up only matched maybe 50-70% with HSK 5-6 words (which is why I’d need to prep if I wanted to take an HSK 5 test probably).

So. I do think: if you WANT to read, if your GOAL is to read chinese novels? That is doable in 3 years. Certainly doable in 6. Especially if you are willing to study, and to read a LOT. 

General opinions I’ve found surrounding the topic of reading in Chinese include: reading through several books (10,000 pages) will help reading speed/ease, the more you read the easier (and faster) it gets. The more words you know, the easier it gets (WORDS not hanzi, and words generally being 5,000-15,000 for ease-feeling depending on your own tolerance for ambiguity). So basically: yes it will be super slow going at first, YES the speed will improve, yes you don’t need to dread not being able to pick up a book until X years into studying. I’ve seen people who started reading after 8 months (the guy who used a click dictionary who inspired me), or people that started after 1-3 years (me at around 1 year, a lot of people around HSK 4-6, a lot of people once they’ve learned 2k hanzi or 2k-5k words etc). 

I personally noticed a page used to take me 30 minutes... then 20... then 15... then 5... now a bit under 5 minutes (and ‘easier’ books less time). So reading speed will eventually get better. Mine still has some improvements that need to be reached eventually lol. I can say at about 1500 hanzi reading and picking up hanzi IN reading (provided you have an audiobook or click-dictionary with audio to hear the hanzi sound) seemed to start working pretty well. So I do think 2000 hanzi is actually a fair estimate of ‘reading will get doable without a dictionary by then.’ I may be around 2000 hanzi known now, and most of the time the hanzi I see are either brand new words (which I SHOULD learn) or part of descriptions/similar words to things I know and I can guess (and with audio also learn them). Hanzi have gotten easier to guess now, to remember, to make connections with.

My point is just that if you want to read - read early, read often, you do not need to be afraid it’s impossible. 

There are people who got into reading way faster than me, people who did much slower. And also tolerance of ambiguity is a big deal - I do think chinese requires more tolerance of ambiguity when making the transition to reading native content (versus learner materials and graded readers) since there’s unknown hanzi you won’t be able to avoid. I’ve got a pretty high tolerance, but yeah there might be ‘slogging’ for a while depending on where your tolerance level is. If you can comprehend the ‘overall main idea’ of paragraphs, sentences? You can understand it enough to learn from it (though how ‘draining’ it will feel will depend on difficulty of the reading and your own tolerance for ambiguity). I saw one translator estimate 3-4 years to read webnovels for pleasure (so no dictionary necessary) and I think that’s a pretty fair estimate (if you’re studying regularly, trying to practice reading with graded readers and click-dictionaries). I’m at almost 2 years and some webnovels I can read for pleasure without a dictionary, many feel better with one but somewhat doable without one, and some I slog through even with a dictionary. I think 3-4 years is a pretty good estimate if you’re studying regularly. 

My other main thought is just... oh man. Reading that someone did not complete their first chinese novel in 3 years MAKES me want to finish a chinese novel before August (that’s my 2 year mark -3-)! I mean technically I finished Xiao Wangzi and a Xiao Mao book but those are both for children and quite short. But yeah nothing motivates me like a challenge to see if something is doable or not...

Somewhat related to this, but I got a new version of Zhen Hun recently (the traditional character version because the covers are SO freaking lovely). And it seems to match up to the webnovel chapters?? So unlike my simplified copy, this one doesn’t have extra scenes and changed scenes and added details in each chapter. I only skimmed (and its chapters are broken up differently than the webnovel which is pretty normal) so I’m not sure if my traditional version has the extras or Shen San extra (my simplified copy does). It does not have the Kunlun prologue my simplified copy has. But, since this traditional copy matches up to the webnovel pretty close (just a few wording changes like next/then/after etc), I could read it very easy! It’s my first time reading traditional chinese in longer novel form since MoDu or The MDZS, so its cool seeing my progress from 6 months in to now. 

[goose-books]

(original image credit to @/theyshane on unsplash)

a month or so ago the wonderful and very sharp-fanged @yvesdot said i should make a post about the process of Working On A Podcast - what, exactly, does that entail? and so today i set down upon your table a long post about the process of this podcast, its unique struggles, and What Comes Next!

for those of you who are new here: a modern tragedy is my podcast-in-progress, a loose retelling of three of shakespeare’s plays (romeo&juliet, hamlet, and macbeth) set in a modern-day high school. or, alternatively, “so so much drama localized inside a few overlapping friend groups of gay* people”

post under the cut!

tag list (ask me to be added/removed): @piyawrites @harehearts @bisexualorlando @guulabjamuns

*well. gay people and indrajit “macbitch” chopra. never let it be said i don’t have cishet rep 😤

what i mean when i say “podcast”

sometimes when i say, “i’m writing a podcast,” people get the wrong idea - they think i’m going to sit down, maybe with some friends as guest stars, and talk into a microphone for an hour. what i really mean is that i’m writing a fiction podcast - something like an audio drama, if you will.

i’ve had this story concept for a long time (since i realized i was gay, actually. sometime around my coming out i was like “...sapphic romeo and juliet. oh i’m a genius”), but it never really worked as a novel. my inspiration for making it a podcast was the penumbra podcast! which i am not caught up on but which dragged me shirt-collar-first into the world of podcasts. [blowing a kiss to mars] for juno steel.

i will admit that i actually... haven’t listened to a ton of podcasts. mostly because my incredibly helpful attention-deficit brain said listening to things is impossible forever. but let me tell you that starting to write AMT in script format worked immediately. and in hindsight? it makes sense. i mean, i am retelling some of the most famous plays of all time... why not get a little theatrical with it?

the process so far

the podcast is drafted! all 16 episodes of it. all... 176k words of it... only took me a year and a half...

i have my main cast together! AMT has a lot of side characters, not all of whom are cast yet, but my main recurring squad is gathered and i love them all VERY dearly. (also, the population of people i know irl is 75% theater kid. so i think i will be able to figure out the side character thing.)

within the group of voice actors, i also have three assistant directors, a term i use loosely because mostly i just mean… those are my right hand men. the main folks i bounce ideas off of and the main folks i have helping me organize all of this. i’ve said multiple times that i’m just the keyboard monkey and would be hopelessly out of my depth without my beloved assdirectors. (shoutout to @asimpleram, the only one who uses tumblr, you are my best friend and i love you oh so much)

i also have two “bootydirectors” who gave themselves that name and that’s just the people who know the most about recording technology and acting. thanks kings

right now the scripts have been sent out to some sensitivity readers and i am currently editing! (both with regards to sensitivity reader feedback, and also just editing the plot and character arcs in general.) (if you want me to send you AMT and you’re willing to give me your thoughts i will straight-up send it to you honestly just know it’s LONG)

i actually did not consider that writing this might be uniquely hard before i started

fun max tip: if you look too far ahead down the road and realize the breadth of the project you’re taking on you’ll freak yourself out so just dive into things headfirst without checking both ways or considering your actions!!! [i am giving you a double thumbs up from behind my monitor]

i have never written anything like AMT before! it has been an experience! there have been some unique struggles!

working with other people is harder than i expected! which is not about my group, all of whom are lovely people. it is about me and my little OCD rat brain that hates letting go of control. even though... an inherent part of writing a script... is that at some point other people will be involved... wild, i know.

9 main characters! AMT has 9 main characters. this is somewhat excusable because the whole thing is episodic and more like a season of a tv show than a novel. but still. 9 main characters. why did i do that

i’ve never written episodically before, so i’ve had to figure out how to fit the plot into appropriately spaced intervals. there are three running plotlines (one for each play), and they’re all parallel and eventually convergent. so everything’s happening at once and it’s… hard to make episodes that aren’t just “max threw a bunch of scenes together because they were happening at the same time.” (i will admit i’ve defaulted to chronological order when spacing episodes, so the timeline doesn’t get confusing. but i hope each episode is cohesive on its own.)

balancing the tragedy and comedy in tragicomedy has been… interesting. i do to some degree feel like AMT’s gone darker than i initially imagined it; while it’s a high school retelling of these plays (and thus there’s no. there’s no murder. the only person who dies is isaac’s dad and that’s six years precanon), all three plays deal to differing degrees with suicide, among other things, and it felt… disingenuous not to write about that from a modern high schooler’s perspective.

i can guarantee a long-term happy ending for AMT! i cannot guarantee much about what’s in the middle. (there are sixteen episodes; one of my directors likened episode 7 to a five-act play’s third act, when things really start to… hit the fan. he’s right and i’m obsessed with thinking about it that way)

the massive amount of time i have been working on the thing: i started writing this podcast in january 2019. i finished writing it this past summer (2020). that’s two summers that have passed without my recording it (which is obviously easier to organize in the summer… or it was before covid but you get my point). this is… a little disheartening? i don’t know; oftentimes i underestimate how long writing projects will take me. what it comes down to is my urge to put out content vs. my urge to make it perfect…

…especially since i’m technically competing with one william f. shakespeare. (the f is for fucking.) i mean, dear old billy shakes DID write the plot out for me ahead of time, which i appreciate, but still…

AMT is absolutely consumable if you don’t know the first goddamn thing about shakespeare’s works. that said. i assume some of the people who will listen to it are shakespeare enthusiasts, casual or otherwise, and that’s a little terrifying! AMT is a shakespeare retelling, but i’ve made these characters very much my own, and i suppose i worry about how others will approach that, and whether they will disagree with my interpretations, or the way i’ve adapted the plots, and so on and so forth... i just have to live with this one, honestly. i think i could edit AMT for a thousand years and probably still find something to change about it, so i will simply have to get over myself.

that said, i don’t regret the amount of time i’ve spent on it! i think the time i’ve taken to draft and edit these episodes has been well worth the wait; i’m genuinely very happy with what i’ve created, and whether or not you agree with, say, my interpretation of a modern hamlet family dynamic, i hope it’ll still be enjoyable!

so what’s next?

as i said earlier, the scripts are currently in the hands of sensitivity readers, and i’m editing!

over the summer, the cast met on zoom frequently to read through and rehearse scenes. and i will not lie it was the most fucking fun i’ve had this entire wretched interminable year. i am constantly charmed and befuddled by the feeling of Listening To My Words Read Out Loud By A Human Voice and also i love my friends so very much

we have a tentative plan to gather the cast (socially distanced and responsibly, of course) over thanksgiving break to make some actual stabs at recording! i am too afraid to concretely promise AMT Episode 1: Fortune’s Fool by the end of 2020 but like… i’m not NOT promising it! send me your finest vibes. we’re close.

[blackjack-15]

Puttering Around — Thoughts on: Secret of the Old Clock (CLK)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with links to previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: CLK, CUR.

The Intro:

In our next Jetsetting game, Nancy travels back from Modern-Day England and straight into 1930s Titusville (aka River Heights 70+ years ago) to help an acquaintance who’s in the middle of two unrelated plots to turn Titusville upside down.

A game famously reviewed as “pleasant but inconsequential”, Secret of the Old Clock tends to be passed over for both praise and censure, famous for two minigames (the sewing minigame and the mini-golf) but otherwise overlooked. It’s a shame, really, that it’s sandwiched in between two much flashier games, as CLK is a wonderfully solid entry into the Nancy Drew series. It pioneers the two-culprit variation on the standard Nancy Drew plot, tackles a new time period, and includes dozens of in-jokes towards the Nancy Drew books.

It’s also the first introduction of Carson Drew as a phone character, which is a lot of fun, and makes sense that he’d show up in the game that includes nods to all things canon. He doesn’t show up again until much later in the series, so it’s nice to introduce him here after hearing about him for 12 games.

As opposed to CUR right before it, CLK takes care to ground itself in a linear plotline, handling its story with relative ease and taking care not to reach too far out of the box. This is one of its greatest strengths, and provides a much better game overall because of it. It’s a simple story, pretty well told.

Though it doesn’t stand up to other more “simple” games before it such as CAR or DDI, it never reaches any of the lows of SCK, FIN, or CUR, and allows the player to be sucked in to its fantastic facsimile of life in the 1930s for teen sleuth Nancy Drew — blue roadster and all.

The Title:

As CLK is a mixture of the first four Nancy Drew books, it retains the title of the first book. As a nod to the history of Nancy Drew, it’s a great choice for the title.

Unfortunately, though the Old Clock does appear and hold secrets, it’s just not prominent enough to deserve the title that it holds. The other three books — The Hidden Staircase, The Bungalow Mystery, and The Mystery at Lilac Inn — are other options, and The Mystery at Lilac Inn would have been the most appropriate title. It doesn’t have the immediate name recognition, which is why they didn’t pick it, but it really is much better and encapsulates the game much better, as the game revolves around the Mysteries that are tied to the Inn.

That’s all I really have to say about that, so onto the mystery!

The Mystery:

Nancy Drew is summoned to the Lilac Inn to help Emily Crandall, the friend of Nancy’s friend Helen Corning, who needs to put her recently deceased mother’s jewelry into a safe, and figures that Nancy’s father would have one.

If it sounds to you like a simple, if slightly contrived premise, then you’d be right.

Once Nancy gets there, however, she finds out that Emily is cracking under the pressure of running an Inn, that her guardian Jane Willoughby isn’t as much help as she should be, and that Emily and her mother were depending on money from Josiah Crowley’s will, which mysteriously only included his recent ESP teacher, Richard Topham, rather than the Crandalls and the local banker.

From there, things go from bad to worse as the inn’s kitchen catches fire, Emily’s jewels are stolen (and partially returned), and voices in the walls start manifesting — not to mention the fetch quests around Titusville that Nancy is sent on and the ridiculous Richard Topham hiding everything about himself other than how pompous he really is.

Nancy soon figures out that this mystery is two-headed, with one side revolving around the Inn itself and the other around Josiah Crowley’s real — and missing — will. Our villains catch on too, however, and Nancy has to race against their suspicion to expose the frauds, discover hidden secrets and identities, and solve the Secret of the Old Clock.

As a mystery, this one really is quite good for its time. Dual villains, each unconcerned with the other, hidden inheritance, Shakespeare references — it’s got it all. Though Jim Archer lets it down a bit in his sheer nothingness, and it functions as a howdunnit with a weird whodunnit beginning, CLK is solid ground after the incredibly shaky mystery in CUR, and it’s a lot of fun to play through.

The Suspects:

Emily Crandall is our protagonist and resident watering pot of CLK who spends the game moping and being Generally Unhelpful. Her mom’s death notwithstanding, Emily’s stressors are the Inn, her lack of money, and her fake-guardian making her think that she’s crazy.

So maybe her total lack of common sense in wanting to call in Nancy because Nancy’s bound to have a safe at home is a result of copious amounts of mental stress. One can only hope so, as by her next birthday she’s the legal owner of the Inn.

Emily actually would have been interesting as a villain, but she, like Jim, just isn’t enough of a presence in the game — which stands out since she’s the closest we’ve got to a main character! She cries a lot, she sits a lot, and that’s about it. She would have had to be a misguided villain, convinced that her guardian (who would have had to actually be Jane Willoughby) is after her fortune…but HER still isn’t up to that level yet, and it’s probably better that they went with a story they can tell wholly and mostly convincingly.

Honestly speaking, Emily, being as she is, is a more successful Linda Penvellyn, which I don’t actually think is unintentional. She’s being harassed and abused by someone who’s basically a family member but is still largely unfamiliar to her, the tie to her remaining family is gone (though Emily’s mother is dead, unlike Hugh Penvellyn), and she is being gaslighted to believe that she’s crazy.

Emily was allowed more agency, more screen time, and more pity by the writers and creators, and because of that, her situation with her Evil Jane is far more obvious to the average player, and she’s treated with far more sympathy than Linda historically has been by the fandom (though recent fan discussion has begun trending in Linda’s favor, which I think is wonderful and fantastic).

Jane Willoughby is, of course, not Jane Willoughby after all, but actually Marion Aborn, proving that identity theft in the 30s was as easy as…well, saying that your name was someone else’s name.

An acquaintance of the actual Jane Willoughby and a petty thief, Marion intercepted the letter about Gloria’s death and Jane’s status as Emily’s guardian and decided to try to cash in on potential cash by tormenting Emily until she signed over the Inn. Exploding the kitchen, stealing Emily’s jewels, and attempting to make the girl think that she was crazy to make her sell the Inn before her 18th birthday (after which Marion would receive no profits).

As one of two culprits, Marion is the more “subtle” culprit and has the more complicated background, but is also the one you have to deal with the most, and thus suffers slightly from being in the spotlight (and thus showing the obviously evil side of her) a little too much. As this game isn’t really concerned with its culprits as a centerpiece, however, Marion’s antics fit right in.

Marion also gets points for being a much more intelligent abusive culprit (contrasting Jane), working hard to make Emily think she’s crazy with a clear goal in mind and even going as far as stealing, then partially replacing, Emily’s jewels to really hammer home the idea that the girl wasn’t mentally well to others — and to Emily herself.

Richard Topham is a self-proclaimed ESP expert and everyone-else-proclaimed dick who ended up somehow being the beneficiary of Josiah Crowley’s will, despite his spoken intentions to leave it to the Crandalls and Jim Archer. He also has a very obnoxious cat named Uri, voiced by a lovely cat named Carl (though I bet you were expecting me to say Jonah Von Spreecken — never fear, he shows up as the Tubby Telegram guy!)

Richard is our other culprit, guilty of falsifying Josiah Crowley’s will when no one could find the original, leaving most everything to himself rather than to the Crandalls or Jim Archer as Josiah wanted. A slight throwback to the 1920s obsession with spiritualism that itself was a post-war reaction to massive death, Richard is as sleazy as they come, testing Nancy for an “inferior mind” and taking advantage of every situation in order to come out on top.

As a culprit, Richard’s technically the one with the bigger crime, but is overshadowed by the plotline with Emily and Marion and is thus a little forgettable, even though it was his actions that started this whole mess in the first place.

Finally, Jim Archer is the local banker who’s not having too good of a time during, well, the Great Depression, where hundreds of banks (and dozens of bankers’ hearts) failed. Promised a boon by Josiah Crowley, he, like Emily, is left in the lurch after the false will was presented. Jim was also a fellow student with Carson Drew at law school, but turned to banking as a career instead.

Despite his office being the location where Nancy finally figures out the mystery of the titular Old Clock and where she discovers that “Jane” is actually Marion, Jim really doesn’t have much to do in this game. He gives Nancy the dreaded sewing minigame and reminds the player that the stock market crash was a recent event, but other than that has very little impact.

Jim would have been a poor choice for a villain — he just doesn’t have the personality or impact necessary — as the only storyline readily available would have been him doing Dirty Deeds to keep his bank afloat…except for the fact that if he were a villain, his bank would have been doing fine, with no need for the will anyway.

The Favorite:

My favorite moment in the game, odd as it might seem, is the CB radio conversation-slash-puzzle. It’s so rare in these pre-Nik games that we actually get to see the lives of those not really related to the case/mystery and get a sense for the world spinning on despite the incident, and this is a great example of that done right.

Like the “freezer moment” mentioned in my Danger on Deception Island meta, this moment where Nancy can see how Josiah Crowley’s life has impacted people for the better, rather than the main game where so far his death has made everything worse. It’s a wonderful moment, and honestly the game is worth replaying on the merit of that alone (though there are many wonderful things about it).

My favorite puzzle is getting down into the secret passage (and all of the puzzles within the passage). It’s a ton of fun to find hidden passages that aren’t full of Deadly Traps or human remains, and the whole Creepy’s Corner puzzle is delightfully campy and awesome.

The best location in the game by far is the carriage house, where the aforementioned conversation takes place. Beautifully lit, nicely hidden away in stages, and the only place that doesn’t feel like a 1960s set of a 30s period piece.

I love this game as homage to the original Nancy Drew titles; though they’re changed somewhat to suit both a video game style and the take on the original canon that the video game universe took (such as making Nancy’s mother’s death at 10 as it was originally, which was the smartest move they’ve ever done).

Video-Game-Style Nancy’s far more like her original 30s version than the sanitized, “fashion-ized” version in the 60’s rewrites — a fact that becomes more and more clear as the series goes on — and it really does show here, as cowboy-cop Nancy wrangles not one but two crooks.

Speaking of, the last thing that I’ll mention in this section is the fact that there are two different culprits, each uncaring of the other. In a game series that was originally only supposed to be 12 games long (meaning CLK would be the last one), this is a delightfully fresh take and it makes untangling who did what a lot of fun and makes CLK different from most games before it.

I’ll talk more about this in later Nancy metas, but the shift from “one crime, one culprit” to a more “spread the guilt” approach really makes the games go up a level or two in enjoyability and in complexity, and CLK is a great example of how just having two culprits really makes the game much more fun to play around with.

The Un-Favorite:

All of that being said, there are some things in CLK that I really don’t love.

The sewing puzzle is honestly the worst; it’s hard with a mouse and nearly impossible with a trackpad, it’s tedious, and it doesn’t matter for the rest of the game, which is probably the worst part given how much effort it takes. It’s a puzzle for a puzzles’ sake, and doesn’t tell us anything we don’t already know (we know Jim’s not doing well; we know it’s the Great Depression, etc.), not to mention not rewarding the player nor Nancy for the effort.

My least favorite moment in the game would have to be Nancy’s first encounter with Richard Topham. Nancy’s autonomy is usually respected in both the 30s original drafts (less so in the 60s re-writes) and in the games, and Richard’s comments about lesser minds and his little test are, even with Nancy’s snarky comment about him in her diary, frankly out of place.

They don’t serve as a “relic of the times”, they don’t make us hate Richard more than we would have for stealing money from people who are literally drowning in bills and debt…and as much as the Nancy Drew books and character are feminist rather than Feminist, it’s honestly not great to have both his ‘clients’ during the course of the game be women that he treats the way he does.

It wasn’t necessary to have him behave the way he does, it contradicts the Spiritualist movement (which was most popular among women to a startling degree, and male Spiritualists tended to treat their female clients very well because that was the bulk of their clientele), and it doesn’t tell us anything new about him, because Nancy and the players already know he’s a fake and a blowhard.

The Fix:

So how would I fix Secret of the Old Clock?

The first and biggest fix I’d make is to include a strong storyline about Spiritualism. As noted several times above, Spiritualism was a huge force in the 1920s, and a period piece set in the year 1930 should necessarily reflect that. Quite frankly, all the nonsense about Jim Archer’s wife should just be cut and replaced with a big Spiritualism puzzle of some sorts.

I’m not saying a séance — no need to retread MHM — but an actual nod to Spiritualism (and through it, the first World War, which given Nancy’s age of 18, would have happened when she was a child) more than just “and this character is a psychic of sorts, don’t really think about it” would improve the game and ground it in its time period. Other than the references to money troubles and the ease of identity theft, there’s not much to ground CLK in its period, and I really think a Spiritualism storyline would aid that.

And if Spiritualism is involved, Richard becomes a more present, more serious character — and a more serious threat. It also opens the opportunity for the two plotlines to intersect — is Emily being driven crazy by stress, an enemy, or a malevolent spirit (which could even be supposed to be her mom, should they want a slightly darker turn)? Richard might visit the house to ensure there are no ‘malevolent presences’ around — and ensure that Crowley didn’t hide his will there.

It wouldn’t become a ‘haunting’ game; it would instead work on the aesthetic of familiar spirits — something that would be explored more fully in the next game.

I know this has been said, but I can’t emphasize enough that the sewing puzzle should be cut, even if there’s nothing to take its place. It’s a perfect example of the wrong puzzle, the wrong controls, and the wrong side-quest at the wrong time. I’m also not sure why they made Jim Archer a middle-aged banker rather than Helen Corning’s fiancée, but that’s too small a change to really bother with.

The other important change I would make is to change CLK from a weak whodunit — our culprits are already clearly the culprits — to a strong howdunit, which is what it really wants to be.

The beginning can stay the same — Nancy’s journey, Emily’s mother’s death, Richard’s faking of the will, Josiah Crowley’s death and promises, etc. — but introducing Richard Topham at the Inn, there to ‘visit’ and offer condolences and because he sensed Heavy Psychic Energy and wondered if it was coming from the house or from Emily. Have Emily tell Nancy in confidence that the other reason she called her in was because she’s either going crazy or being attacked on all sides, and the game can proceed on from that point.

Because the villains aren’t secret or even quasi-hidden in plain sight — save for Marion’s identity theft — it’s a much more natural shift to a howdunit than other games. Emily’s living in fear of Marion, running the Inn, and the possible Malevolent Spirit that may or may not be her mother haunting her through the Secret, Secret Passageway in the Inn, and Nancy’s suspicious of Richard Topham who inherited all of Crowley’s wealth, of the ‘hauntings’ of the Inn, and of the missing will and the gifts Josiah left behind.

Those two plotlines alone are enough to carry the game, especially including the Edutainment section on Spiritualism that would tie in with Richard Topham (and possibly include Emily’s mother having an interest due to her husband dying in the war), and so Jim Archer just isn’t needed as much. Whether he stays in the game in an even more reduced role or whether he’s replaced by a ninth-hour character in the form of Emily’s actual guardian, the real Jane Willoughby, is up to personal preference (though I personally like the second option).

Like all the Jetsetting games, CLK begins with a small problem that snowballs into larger and larger consequences. By emphasizing a Spiritualist plotline (culminating with the technology-based ‘encounters’ Josiah had with his CB radio friends), trimming down the fat with Jim Archer, and selling CLK from the beginning as more of a howdunit than a whodunit, CLK would improve enough to be more than just a good game, and become a standout of its era — as befitting the start of the titular teen detective.

[sapphires-and-gold-fics]

Fictober Day 21: “Change is annoyingly difficult.”

Fandom: Game of Thrones / ASOIAF

Characters: Jaime Lannister / Brienne of Tarth

Read on AO3

xxxxxxxxxxx

Jaime hated physical therapy, though not as much as he hated the absence of his right hand. In the grand scheme of things, it was a hatred of physical therapy, an abhorrence for the lack of a hand, his ex, and then most of all, Brienne. 

His physiotherapist was a brute. Tall - taller than him, broad of shoulder - broader than his, scarred - okay, on that account he could concede that his were worse. She was freckled all over - down to gods knew where, and she hated him. So naturally, he hated her back. Even though she had absolutely astonishing blue eyes that liked to trip him up. And even though, at the end of the day, what she was doing was helping him. And okay maybe she didn’t hate him, maybe she was just like that with everyone. 

The accident that had taken his hand had been just that - he hadn’t asked for it to happen. He’d just broken up with his ex - again - and he’d been angry and  cocky in his driving. It never paid to do that. The next thing he knew, the sports car was wrapped around a tree and his hand was trapped between the dash and the door frame. 

From what he could tell in passing, the bulk of Brienne’s patients were alcoholics. They’d all done something idiotic like drive off a bridge, or try to do a handstand on a train platform, or operate a saw while not knowing how to operate a saw. She seemed to show them no sympathy, and he apparently was grouped in with the rest. It’s not that she wasn’t a good physiotherapist, it’s that maybe she probably would have been better suited to working with prison inmates. 

On this fine Tuesday morning, she was being really hard on him, by Jaime’s standards. Not only did he have to suffer through his usual semi-weekly routine of standard recovery exercises, but every session she now had him trying to lift a little more weight using the remaining forearm - today he was up to 10 pounds. Afterwards, she would always beat his arm until it was bruised, like normal. Sure, the medical bills called it therapeutic massage, an alternating of cold packs and heat packs with pressure, but really it was just torture. If he had a physiotherapist with smaller hands, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. Of course then maybe it also wouldn’t feel as loose and flexible come next session. 

He was in the middle of lifting the ten pound weight with his forearm when he stopped and stared at Brienne across the small gym space. She stared back, an eyebrow up. “What’s up, Lannister?”

“Wench, I’ve just realized that my arm doesn’t hurt.”

“I told you not to call me that.” 

Okay, so some of the antagonism had been his fault. “Sorry - Brienne. My arm doesn’t hurt.”

“Like the pressure of the band is cutting off your circulation, or like it doesn’t hurt to be moving it like that?”

“The latter. Definitely the latter.”

The therapist broke into a crooked-toothed smile that brightened her eyes, and for a second Jaime thought she actually looked like a pleasant person to know. 

“That’s good, Lannister. It means your muscles are building up. Have you been working with the band between appointments?”

“Yes,” he said, curling his arm toward his chest again. 

“What about your other arm?”

He nearly dropped the weight, but he stopped himself and slowly lowered it to the ground. “Uh…?”

Brienne sighed and walked over, stepping around mats and blocks. “Lannister, you’ve gotta work both arms.”

“My left arm is fine!” he flexed it and spun his wrist to show her. 

“Lannister, the loss of a dominant hand means that the other is going to take some strain. It’s best if you build it up so that not only can you do everything you need to with it, but this way when the muscles build up on the injured arm, you don’t wind up looking like Popeye after only half a can of spinach.”

Jaime let out an exasperated sigh. “Change is annoyingly difficult. It’s bad enough I have to come here and be tortured by you.”

Brienne cocked her head and raised her brow.

judging me, wench? “I never went to the gym before all this.”

“You didn’t?”

“Not like this! I mean I have a gym membership but mostly I used it for cardio when it rains, or for the shower when my building doesn’t have hot water.”

Brienne’s brows drew together, but the glance was gone in an instant. “Excuse me for observing, but you seemed in excellent shape other than - this. What were you doing before the incident?”

“Incident,” Jaime said with a sneer. “You say it like all I did was stub my toe on the sofa leg. I’m down a hand, wench. At least call it a maiming.”

She took a breath and counted to ten. “What were you doing before you lost it?”

“It’s not mislaid!”

“Mr. Lannister.”

“Jaime.”

Fine, Jaime, what were you doing to keep up your physical health when you had all of your appendages? 

“He scowled and muttered an answer under his breath before doing another rep.”

“What was that?”

He set the weight down with a heavy sigh. “I’m a choreographer.”

Brienne’s eyebrows perked up, and she bent her head toward him with interest. “Like dancing?”

“Almost. I thought about it for a while,” he smiled to himself. “But actually, like combat. Some film stuff but mostly stage.”

“Professionally?”

She sounds... impressed? “Yeah. You know that national tour of Targaryen Times they started running once the local franchises proved unprofitable?”

She nodded, and he noticed her neck was suddenly the faintest pink; he looked away.

“I choreographed all the sword play for that, and the jousting.” Jaime could have stopped there, but it had been so long since he’d had a chance to talk to someone about something he loved so much. “On top of that,” he continued, “my niece and nephews have been in high school for the last ten years or so, overlapping you know, and you wouldn’t believe how much Shakespeare one school can do in a decade - it’s a lot. So I kept busy… I guess I stayed in shape by handling heavy weaponry.”

“And dancing,” she japed.

He chuckled, “Yeah.” 

“Well you can still do that, can’t you?”

“Why, did you want to dance my lady?”

She snorted. 

Oh, that’s kind of endearing, he thought.

“I meant the fight choreo.”

“Sure I can still technically do it but I’ve always marked out a fight by doing it myself. And then I make a video of me playing it out so that the actors can learn it. My dominant hand is gone. I can barely handle a dagger in my left hand—”

“—all the more reason to work up that arm.”

“But even then my right —”

“Jaime you’re lifting 10 pounds without pain on your right arm now. Couldn’t you use a shield on that arm?” 

He toyed with the thought. “I see what you’re saying. Maybe in another ten pounds I could think about that. But not all choreo requires a shield. And some weapons require two hands. At this point I’ll need to hire someone for me to direct in order to record the fights.”

She was thinking. Loudly. 

“What?”

“Have you thought about prosthetics? You might be able to get one made that would be specifically for managing a two-handed grip like for a broadsword, and it’s not out of the realm of possibility that you could get one made that had a lock grip with enough of a rating to hold a foil so that it would be like using your right hand again - you wouldn’t have the same range of motion, so it might not be ideal but I think it’s worth a shot, Jaime. I’ve got a colleague who specializes in 3D printing and prosthetic parts with weight ratings - maybe you can talk to him about something that does have some range of motion? I mean if you’re looking at handling a mace or a morning star I would probably insist on you just training your left hand for those - too tricky - but for other things there might be another way.”

Jaime’s mouth was hanging open, he could tell. But he wasn’t sure he had the strength to close it. He dipped his head in order to force his jaw closed. 

“Did you—”

Brienne was now blushing - quite prettily, if he was honest - all over. 

Huh. 

“Are you trained?”

She nodded. “I actually worked for the local Targaryen Times before -”

“You were a--”

“--A knight, yeah.” 

Suddenly some pieces fell into place. Her height. Her breadth. Her strength. 

“So you can—”

“Yeah - spar, joust - I’ve handled a lot of weapons.” She grinned that goofy crooked tooth grin that made those astonishing eyes even bluer somehow and Jaime’s gut suddenly felt like it was on fire. “I usually won.”

“Of course you did,” he sighed before swallowing hard. “Um…” he gestured at the weight on the ground, “Should I...?” he gestured dumbly in a flexing motion, like he was suddenly struck stupid under her gaze. 

She nodded, “10 more reps and then we’ll get everything nice and loose again.” 

“Uhhuh.”

He did the reps and then climbed up on the table for her to start the massage that always felt like ice and fire but which today just felt profoundly like a massage - a good one. He made sure to ask her for her prosthetic guy’s info. And then he made sure to get her number - “for the videos,” he said. “I could use someone I don’t need to train on top of direct, you know?” 

She’d nodded and handed him back his phone. “And maybe I can help train you. Get your sword back in your hand.”

“What?”

“Your left hand - maybe I can help you? You’re a choreographer so I think your instincts are probably good, you just need to improve your flexibility.” The belly fire was back. Huh. 

[bittysvalentines]

Loose Lips Sail Ships

From: @missweber (Sophia_Prester on AO3)

To: @ellieotbelle Pairing: Bob Zimmermann/Alicia Zimmermann Tags: Meet cute, pining, spoilers for Jane Eyre, accidentally getting stoned, mild second-hand embarrassment, Bob is a doofus, honestly Alicia is the brains in the family Summary: Bob has a crush on a beautiful actress, but there's no way she would be interested in him, so there's no point in trying to do anything about it, right?

Bob was in love.

Well, it was something akin to 'in love'. Kind of. Maybe.

A few (okay, several) dramatically bad breakups had taught him that you had to know someone before you could say you were in love with them, and seeing someone interviewed on a stupid talk show while you were stuck at home on injured reserve in no way counted as knowing.

So maybe it was fair to say that he was primed to fall in love with Alicia Andersen if he ever got the chance to meet her and she didn't turn out to be one of those people who was actually horrible once you got to know them.

Somehow, he doubted this would be the case. He wasn't a rookie any more, and he had learned from several (okay, many) dramatically bad breakups to spot the more obvious red flags.

The problem was, he wasn't sure how he would ever get the chance to actually meet her.

In theory, it shouldn't be difficult. He was Bad Bob Zimmermann, damn it, and he had met plenty of other celebrities at parties, charity events, and the occasional nightclub. In fact, many of these meetings were precursors to a number (a lot) of dramatically bad breakups.

Maybe it was a good thing that everything he read about Alicia Andersen (it was a dark day when Mario found out he had bought an issue of Vogue just because she was on the cover) said she wasn't much of a party person.

Maybe he could meet her at some charity gala, because she did occasionally go to those (she was particularly vocal about funding AIDS research), but she was always quick to state in interviews that her idea of a perfect evening was sitting at home reading or running lines for whatever play she was obsessed with at the moment.

When his thoughts turned in those directions, he realized that a jock with a playboy reputation might not merit a second thought from her. It was one reason why he brushed off Mario's suggestion of having his agent call her agent and arrange something.

Another reason was that the whole idea sounded kind of gross.

No, it sounded really gross. One part presumptuous and one part transactional and one hundred percent slimy. If he tried something like that, Alicia would probably have him burned in effigy before efficiently trashing what was left of his reputation.

"Or get yourself booked as a guest judge on one of those stupid shows, or volunteer to help co-host something," Mario suggested after Bob explained his reluctance. "It worked for Wayne, didn't it? What's the worst that could happen?"

The worst that could happen was that the divine Ms. Anderson, a woman who probably knew all the plays of Shakespeare and all the novels of Jane Austen by heart, would have little use for a man who once bragged on camera that he technically hadn't graduated high school because he kept skipping art class to practice his slap shot.

"I'll think about it," he said, privately deciding that it was safer not to take the risk. Not taking a risk meant not looking foolish. It meant not getting shot down, possibly in public.

Or worse, she could shoot him down in private and be nice about it.

He wouldn't try to get in touch with her, and that was that.

* * *

Bob almost changed his mind a few times.

The first was after the whole Danielle incident, the first breakup in a long time that wasn't dramatically bad only because she dumped him halfway through the first date.

"Bob, this has been fun, but... no it hasn't, because the whole time I've been sitting here, it's been clear you were wishing I was someone else." She got up from the table, all long legs and perfect hair and... well, he didn't really know much about her other than that, and didn't that say something?

(It did, and it wasn't good.)

She left the restaurant before he could apologize and before the waiter arrived with the very hefty bill. He hated to admit it, but she had been right.

Bob got as far as rehearsing how he would bring up the subject with his agent before he told himself not to be stupid.

The second time was because he went to see Alicia's the latest movie even though it wasn't the sort of thing he would normally go see, given that it was based on a book he'd only pretended to read back in high school.

He was sneaky about going to the theater, sneaky enough that the other guys chirped him about being desperate enough to go to a strip club, but a few pointed hip checks during practice put an end to that.

The truth was, he almost snuck out shortly after he snuck in, because to his surprise and displeasure, Alicia Andersen was not playing the lead role. Some other actress had the role of Jane Eyre, and given the movie's nearly three-hour running time, whoever Alicia was playing might not be around for a while.

But then Jane's shitty aunt sent her to that shitty school, and her friend got sick, and crisse, the poor kid died?

Well, he couldn't leave now. He had to stick around long enough to make sure Jane was going to be okay.

His first impression of Rochester was that the man deserved to be slammed into the boards, hard. Slew-footing was also an option.

By the time it was clear that something strange and unwholesome was going on in the attics of Thornfield, Bob was so caught up in the story that he almost forgot why he wanted to see the movie in the first place.

And then, there she was.

He didn't recognize her at first. She was wild-haired and wild-eyed, barely visible in candlelight as she threatened Jane (who deserved so, so much better) with a knife.

By the time the truth came out about the madwoman locked away in the attic (and seriously, what the actual fucking fuck??) Bob was of the opinion that the first Mrs. Rochester deserved a hell of a lot better, too.

It wasn't anything like the glamorous roles Alicia Andersen usually took, and she was only on screen for maybe fifteen minutes, tops, but Bob thought it was the best thing she had done, ever.

When she was nominated for Best Supporting Actress, he felt just as smug as when his pet rookie got nominated for the Calder last year, and it took every bit of willpower he had not to ask his agent to forward his congratulations to her agent.

Every bit.

The third time was a week later, on his birthday. He was sulking in the press box, serving the first of a two game suspension (on his birthday!) for beating the crap out of a highly deserving Cam Neely (so yeah, he was carrying a little bit of a hate-on for the Bruins from his Habs days) and feeling more than a little sorry for himself.

He wanted someone to talk to who wasn't a part of his team, or his support staff. He wanted to talk to someone who wasn't part of hockey, and wasn't that a new feeling?

It would just take a call, and then a follow up call, and he deserved to have something nice on his birthday, didn't he?

But it would be kind of creepy to call her out of the blue like that, wouldn't it?

He didn't call. And if he didn't call, she couldn't say no.

* * *

In the end, it was the pills that did it.

At least, that was what he maintained the next day, the day after that, and every time he told the story in years to come.

The Pens were in New York for three days. The trip had a game against the Rangers on one end, a game against the Islanders on the other, and Valentine's Day smack in the middle. A lot of the guys who were married or who had a serious girlfriend had big plans for the night, and PR and the press were all over it.

More specifically, they were all over him. Bob's nickname wasn't just because of his reputation for starting fights. He was also known for leaving a string of broken hearted girlfriends behind (which wasn't fair, as he usually wasn't the one doing the leaving).

The nonsense started even before the first game.

"So, Bob. You have any big plans for tomorrow with a special someone?"

"No. I'm looking forward to a good night of rest between games."

He fielded a few questions about his thoughts on facing off against Marcel Dionne before it started again with another reporter.

"I heard a rumor that maybe you and Christy Tur -"

"Ha ha. No."

And then another reporter.

"You can't tell me that Bad Bob Zimmermann doesn't have a hot - "

"Oh, yes, I can!"

And then another.

"I'm sure it wouldn't be hard for you to pick up some pretty young - "

At this point, Mario frog-marched him to the visitors' locker room because PR had declared that him literally growling and baring his teeth at reporters did little to 'foster a productive relationship with the press corps.'

It was a good game from a team perspective, and the win was needed if they wanted to secure a playoff position. It wasn't so good from a Zimmermann perspective, because a pileup early in the third period tweaked his back enough that he needed help getting off the ice.

The only saving grace was that he didn't blow his point streak and the back thing seemed to be just muscle strain.

"We'll put you down as a game-day decision for the Islanders," the team doctor said. "If you can get some rest tonight and tomorrow, you'll probably be okay. The trick is getting it so you can relax."

The doctor handed Bob a small pill bottle with what sounded like two pills inside it. Bob fiddled with the child-proof cap while the doctor explained what to do with alternating heat and ice. "In there is some pain medication and a muscle relaxer. Go ahead and take them - "

Bob got the cap off and tossed the pills back without benefit of water.

" - when you get back to the hotel," the doctor finished with a sigh. "Just make sure you have someone with you until you get back to your room."

The one good thing about getting injured was that it got him out of doing press. One of the rookies got assigned to accompany him back to the hotel while everyone else went out to celebrate the win.

Any other time, Bob might have felt sad about missing out, but by the time their cab got them back to the hotel, he wasn't feeling sad about anything.

He was one of the best damn hockey players in the world, he loved his team (he really did, he told the rookie - whatever his name was - he really, really did) and he loved New York City, and tomorrow was Valentine's Day, and there was something important, something important he was supposed to do or say...

Oh! And here was this nice person with a tape recorder and his friend with a camera asking him about his Valentine's plans. How nice!

"I don't have any," he told the men, once he remembered that he should speak English. He swatted at the rookie, who kept on trying to interrupt them for some reason. "Nope. No plans. Not for me. But there's someone I would love to have plans with."

The bubble of happiness that had formed around him ebbed for a moment. He didn't have plans with her, and he doubted she'd want to have plans with him, and it was so sad that he just had to tell someone about it.

So, when the nice men asked him who that someone was, he told them.

* * *

Later, Bob wouldn't be able to say for sure what restaurant it was. He would remember the white tablecloths and romantic lighting and how his custom-tailored suit still didn't feel swanky enough for this kind of place and how his stomach tried to turn itself inside-out with terror.

Most of all, he would remember the tripping, tumbling beat of his heart as Alicia Andersen walked into the restaurant and stopped to talk to the hostess.

Film could never do justice to the gold of her hair, or the soft blue of her dress, which looked like it had been pulled down from the summer sky. The hostess nodded at her and then led her straight back. To him.

Bob staggered to his feet, and failed to bite back a curse when his back twinged. It was loud enough that a nearby couple glared at him, and Alicia raised an eyebrow.

Oh, this was getting off to a great start.

He hurried to help her with her chair even though his back protested. "I am so, so sorry about this."

She gave him a polite and questioning little smile, but said nothing.

"In my defense, not that I'm trying to excuse what I did, I had just taken a muscle relaxer and a pain pill?" He tried giving her a charming smile, remembering just a second too late that he was waiting for the off season to do something about that missing incisor. He tried for a closed-lipped smolder instead. "I didn't remember saying anything to that reporter until my agent and the head of our PR team both showed up in my hotel room to yell at me this morning. Actually, I still don't remember saying it."

The shift in her facial expression was subtle, but telling. It was the sort of thing that she'd used to tell the audience so much about the first Mrs. Rochester before she even uttered a word. She wasn't happy, but it was a different kind of not-happy than he would have expected from a woman who was probably badgered by her publicity team to go on a date she probably didn't want.

"Are you saying that you didn't really want to spend Valentine's Day with me?"

For one crazy moment, Bob thought irony had struck in his favor, and she had been pining after him like he had been pining after her. But no, she was just curious.

"Ouais, I wanted to very much, but only if it was something you wanted, too."

The brief lapse into French got a flicker of a smile. "The fact that your agent told mine you would understand if I didn't want to go to dinner was one reason I did want to go."

"What was the other reason?"

Alicia rolled her eyes and propped her chin in one hand. "My agent wants to drum up a bit more publicity for my latest movie. Classic case of good critical reception but slow box office."

"What? Even with your Oscar nomination? Euh, I should have said congratulations earlier. Sorry."

She laughed, but it was kind, not mocking. He wanted to hear it again. "You really are Canadian, aren't you? But thank you. I'm delighted about the nomination, but best supporting actress isn't as much of a draw as best picture. I'd give up my own nomination in a heartbeat if we could have gotten that one instead."

"That's right. You were co-producer on that, weren't you?"

The look he got was one of unguarded, unfiltered surprise.

"It was one of the best movies I saw in a long time, even though I was disappointed at first you weren't playing Jane. But that twist about the first Mrs. Rochester... " He whistled low and shook his head. "I honestly had no idea that was coming. And I love how even though you didn't have many lines, you could tell this woman had a whole life before that crosseur Rochester wrecked it all. Euh, are you all right?"

Her jaw had dropped, but it shifted into a smile that started in her eyes. "Oh, yes. I was hoping people would get that from my performance. But you really had no idea about the madwoman in the attic? I assumed everyone who went to see the movie would already know the story."

"Alas, I am but an illiterate goon," he said, raising his wine glass in a mock toast. "I only went to see the movie because this hot actress had a supporting role."

He wasn't sure, but he thought her foot might have bumped against his.

"You know, I normally don't like it when men comment on my looks, but from you, I find I don't mind. Now isn't that funny?"

Bob forgot how to breathe.

"So, you'd been wanting to ask me out for a while, but you had to wait until you were loopy on pain pills to do anything about it. Why?"

There were so many things he could say about being respectful and not a creep, and while these things were true, they weren't the most true.

"I was afraid you'd say no," he said quietly.

"But I maybe I would say yes. And you would never know."

Bob huffed out a laugh. "That reminds me of something my friend Wayne said."

"Oh, is Wayne a smart guy?"

Bob waggled his hand. "He has his moments. So will you?"

"Will I what?"

Her hand was on the table within easy reaching distance. He slid his hand towards hers, waiting for a signal that he had gotten this wrong.

"Say yes?"

She raised an eyebrow, but this time he saw the humor behind it. He placed his hand on hers, and the world tipped on its axis when she turned her hand over and gave a gentle squeeze.

"Well, you'll just have to ask to find out, won't you?"

He would.

He took a deep breath, and he took the shot.

She said yes.

[shanastoryteller]

mmmmmmmkay okay so, you know, what if sion had been just a little smarter about how he handled the nezumi situation when he was twelve? like i get his naïve innocence is part of his charm and all, but this kid is also supposedly a genius, so, you know, i don’t think i’m going too far out of left field here.

so his mom tells him there’s a security alert about an escaped criminal and to acknowledge it when he goes back to his room, except this time shion puts two and two together and doesn’t bother, he knows who the security alert is about. so he goes back with dinner and gives it to nezumi, is just as kind and flaily and awkward and endearing as before. he still gives nezumi his sweater and holds his hand and curls in bed with him. nezumi turns into shion’s warmth, and that’s how they sleep, tangled up in each other. nezumi’s fever breaks in the middle of the night, and they get up just before dawn, when it’s still dark out. before nezumi goes, shion asks a favor – he has nezumi tie him up. and nezumi’s eyes widen, and he smiles again, because hey, that’s not a bad idea.

so when the security bureau shows up, karan shows them to her son’s room, and screams at what she find – her son bound and gagged, tear tracks down his face. he says the escaped prisoner came in and restrained him, and left a few hours ago, all of which is technically true, and he never opened the security alert, so they don’t question it – why would they? he’s part of the elite, and going to the advanced track, he’s going to be the best of them. so a criminal got the drop on him, he’s twelve after all. and the incident gets marked in his file, but he’s not found guilty of anything, they don’t suspect him of being a dissenter. because he’s not, not yet, he’s just a boy who saw someone in need of help and gave it, that’s all.

shion follows his path, going into the special curriculum with sefu, majoring in ecology. but he’s – well, he’s looking, not sure for what, but he is looking. and he sees it, eventually, and he sees what happens to people who know too much, and he says nothing. shion graduates early, and is given a prestigious position in the upper management of the parks maintenance center. and he’s only junior level, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out that something’s amiss.

the earth is dying.

not the whole earth, not the planet, but their corner of it is slowly fading, is unsustainable even though it shouldn’t be, even though the science says they should be fine. and, look, he’s karan’s son, right? he’s the son of one of the people who helped found no. 6. it’s why they’re elites in the first place. so when he warily starts poking around, all concern for their city and not even a whiff of disapproval over the things he knows, the stuff he’s figured out – well, they welcome him right into the inner circle, he’s eighteen and the youngest among them by thirty years, but he’s a genius and he’s loyal and his mother did so much for them, for this city, it seems only right that he give back too.

so, nezumi.

he tries to keep tabs on shion, but it’s hard. maybe if he’d gotten caught and lost some status he could have managed it, but information about elites is locked up tight, it’s a lot harder to get access to it. he knows he’s alive, that he got into that advanced school, but that’s it, that’s all he’s managed to figure out. but he’s still him, still closed off and angry, still so desperate for love and absolutely terrified at the prospect of caring about anyone and being cared about in return.

but he’s still an actor, is the leading lady in every shakespeare play that is performed, and a few others because he’s just that popular, is famous through his stage name eve, and he makes a tidy sum from his job and he’s still a fighter, of course, because he remembers what happened to him when he couldn’t fight, when he couldn’t defend himself.

anyway, he gets himself in a tough spot somehow, i don’t know. inukashi saves his ass, or bails him out of something, and he owes her big. and he hates owing inukashi anything, the girl who saw what was coming for them, coming for the forest folk, and ran. he can never decide if he’s jealous, or if he just hates her. it’s not fair. she got burned too, and in more ways than one. she survived, and didn’t suffer like he did, wasn’t traumatized like he was, because the dogs took her in. while he was captured for experiments in no. 6, she lived among the dogs, and learned to survive the only way she knew how – by turning her back on their life, and maybe that’s why he hates her so much, actually, even though it’s not fair. she was only a baby when it happened, when their forest was destroyed, their land taken from them, their people murdered. but he offered to teach her, once, when he found her and saw her burns, but she refused. she feels the clawing need for his songs, but doesn’t understand them, refuses to understand them. there was a time when the whole forest sang for them, and he wants so desperately to tell someone about it, wants so desperately to connect to this person who was like him, who was born of the forest folk even if she wasn’t raised among them, wants so desperately to help someone like shion helped him. but inukashi rejects all of it, rejects their whole heritage, and fair or not, he hates her for it.

so he owes inukashi. owing her makes his stomach flip, it makes him so uncomfortable he’d rather peel away his skin than deal with it. so, he did what he swore he would never do, and he goes to rikiga.

rikiga, who sells girls to high ranking no. 6 officials who like a taste of the wild side, who get off on pitying the girl they’re fucking. rikiga who once told him he’d make a lot more money working for him than he did as an actor.

“one night,” he says, and he hates this, but he hates it less than owing inukashi anything. “one night, and that’s it.”

he’d thought rikiga would be thrilled, but he actually looks conflicted. “if you need money, i can lend it to you,” he says.

nezumi blinks, taken aback, “why?”

“my girls make good money. they do it because they want to, because they’d rather work for me than do something else,” he says bluntly, “i don’t like taking people on who are too desperate for it. this is a business, not a slave trade.”

and, against his will and expectations, nezumi thinks for a moment that rikiga isn’t the worst person. “i don’t want to trade one debt for another. i’m the top paid actor in this place, i don’t need money that badly. it’s not you or death. it’s you or something deeply unpleasant, and i’d rather take you.”

rikiga signs and nods, and then that smarmy grin comes across his face, and nezumi’s more familiar with that, at least. “lucky for you, i have the perfect customer in mind, and his standing appointment is two days away.”

so, that’s that. nezumi shows up at rikiga’s business house in the place between their home and no. 6, and he’s given some clothes and make up, and he does his best not to scowl. he doesn’t mind the dress, he wears dresses all the time for his job, but he minds the point of the dress. it’s short and black, and too tight, and he does his makeup like he’s actually a girl, doesn’t put on stage make up because that looks horrendous face to face, and he doesn’t want to scare this guy off. or well, he wants to punch him in the face repeatedly, but if he does that not only will he not get paid, but he’ll owe rikiga too, which he doesn’t want.

the thought of letting a no. 6 official touch him makes him want to vomit and maybe kill someone, but it’s still not as bad as being in inukashi’s debt. he’s done worse for less.

he’s sitting on the bed, waiting, his hair loose around his face. he hears two sets of footsteps, and covetous whispering. then a light male voice he doesn’t recognize, “rikaga, who is this? i’m not going to talk in front of a stranger, i have you tell the girls to wait in your office for a reason.”

“i thought you might like this one,” rikaga says smugly, “you’re always paying premium price for my best girls, and you just send them away so we can talk. you should get your money’s worth for once.”

what is rikaga saying? why would someone pay that much money to not have sex?

“i come here to talk, not for sex, and you know it,” the man snaps, and nezumi thinks that voice almost sounds familiar. is it once of the people who had captured him when he was a kid, maybe? “you know coming to see you is the only way my coming here doesn’t raise suspicion. i’m here too often as it is. they think i’m a deviant.”

“and it makes them like you even more,” rikaga says dryly. “are you sure you won’t even take a look? i picked this one out special, just for you.”

“pay her and get her out of here,” the man says. “i’m paying for her time, and i’m not interested in having sex with her, so she can do whatever the hell she wants for the next couple of hours. my business is with you.”

they finally round the corner, and rikaga opens the cell door and they step inside. nezumi doesn’t look up, tense, because he knows what he looks like, he knows how attractive he is, and if this stranger is going to let him off the hook he doesn’t want to give him a reason to change his mind, and his face is a very good reason for this guy to change his mind. he makes his living off this face, he knows he’s beautiful.

“i’m sorry about this, there’s been a misunderstanding,” the man says kindly, and nezumi flinches. since when do no. 6 official actually sound kind? “you’re free to go. you will, of course, be compensated for your time.”

he finally risks a glance up, and his eyes meet soft brown eyes, and his mouth falls open. then he snarls and gets to his feet, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and slamming him against the wall. “you became one of them? you – you know, you must know, you’re an upper level official, and you still – i thought you were different.”

wide brown eyes stare at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, and this is somehow worse than inukaisha, to find out the soft, kind boy who helped him so long ago became – this.

shion’s eyes finally light up with recognition. “nezumi! you’re okay! i never knew - i hoped, and,” he twists his head to glare at rikaga, “i asked about nezumi and you said you’d never heard of him!”

“nezumi?” he asks, confused. “that’s eve.”

“eve is my stage name, you idiot,” he snarls. “what are you doing with him?”

rikiga goes cold. “none of your business. if you’re not wanted, then get out of here. we have important things to discuss.”

“he can stay, if he wants,” shion says, beaming. he covers nezumi’s hands with his own, and he’s not afraid, he should be afraid. nezumi wants to murder him, and then maybe find a hole to cry in, since apparently there’s not a single decent person left in the world, and if that’s the case then what is he living for, anyway. “we’re planning a revolution. want to help?”

“shion!” rikaga shouts, “you can’t just say things like that!”

nezumi’s grip slackens in surprise, and shion doesn’t hesitate. he throws himself at nezumi, wrapping his arms around him, unconcerned when nezumi stands stiff and still in his arms. he pulls back, but he keeps his warm hands curled around nezumi’s upper arms. his smile is warm too. “we’re going to destroy no. 6 from the inside out. i’ve put a lot effort in getting where i am today – a place where i have access to almost everything, where i know enough to actually do something about all of this. and i will do something. no. 6 has ran unchecked for too long, and it’s time for it to end.”

“i,” he licks his lips, “i don’t understand.”

shion goes harder then, something like steel in his eyes. “i don’t want what happened to you to happen to anyone else. you – you opened my eyes, nezumi, to everying i didn’t know, you were the one that led me down the path to discovering what was really going on in no. 6, to be becoming the person i am today.” he slides his hands down to nezumi’s arms to squeeze his hands. “help me again. help me destroy no. 6, and build something better in it’s place.”

“okay,” he says, a harsh whisper, because is this a dream, it feels like a dream, “okay.”

and that’s exactly what they did. and fell in love along the way while they were at it, of course.

[weeklyhumorist]

Please Accept my Application to Join Your Post-Apocalypse Survival Crew

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Hi. I’m excited to sit with you here by the coal pit and discuss this opportunity. I can see another smogstorm gathering so I’ll skip the small talk and get right to it: I think I will be an essential addition to your post-apocalypse survival crew.

I imagine that, in considering your ideal team member, a Media Studies major with a background in Fine Arts Logistics doesn’t jump immediately to mind, but if you’ll hear me out, I’d love to highlight the unique skills and experience I’d be bringing to the position.

  1. Creative problem solving and flexibility are my bread and butter, so to speak… What’s that? No, I don’t have butter. I haven’t seen butter since the Trade Wars with the New England States.

2. Extensive community theater experience. I’ll be more than ready if this turns out to be the sort of post-apocalypse where Shakespeare is important. I’d also be happy to coach the crew in acting techniques, in case of a situation where our survival depends on blending in with the Armies of Forgotten Men.

3. Resourcefulness and resilience, as exemplified by the night, last year, when I had to chase a bat with a tennis racket, as my roommates were too scared to deal. I found myself in a demanding leadership position and rose to the challenge with aplomb.

4. Not squeamish or fussy. In 8th grade I ate a chicken nugget of unknown age and origin, found on the floor of a bus, because my friends offered a dollar each to watch me (to be honest I mostly did it for the attention. Middle School was a tough time for me). And in terms of general lifestyle and upkeep, I’ve been apocalypse-ready for my entire adulthood, with my daily utilitarian ponytail and bunion-friendly sneaks.

I hope you’ll agree these anecdotes show a rare form of courage and a steely can-do attitude that will benefit my cohorts as we fight other gangs over the last scoops of toilet water.

  Let’s explore the possibilities for my role in your bunker, or cave, or wherever your HQ is. Every successful raid needs a Project Manager, someone to hunker down safely in the background and keep operational procedures running smoothly. It might even be wise to dovetail this in with stockpile organization. We can circle back to that and my other innovative structural ideas at a later point.

Question: does your crew have a Memoirist? To document the oral history of the Fall and the horrific ways in which we sacrificed our humanity to survive? It would be a mistake to overlook that vital role, and as a frequent contributor (and one-time designer) to my college literary journal, Calliope, I’d be an ideal candidate.

I can see a desperate-looking hoard creeping down that outcropping over there, so I’ll just briefly address the employment gaps and unconventional career path you might be noticing on my resume. You see, I describe myself as “marching to the beat of my own drum.” Speaking of drums, if this is the type of posse that likes to ride out into the wasteland with a musician dangling from the front of a truck, I’m your gal! I can play a feisty marimba and a passable glockenspiel. Oh, no, sorry. You misunderstood. I have no weaponry expertise. I can knit. Just want to mention that before we run out of time. I hear the distant, blood-chilling wails that signify encroaching nightfall.

  Real quick, I’ve supplied several references, two from friends who can swear to my unyielding loyalty (elemental to our survival as a group), and another from a friend who can attest to my absolute willingness to stab someone in the back without a second’s thought (in case that becomes necessary).

  One last thing, and I think you’ll appreciate the crux of my proposal here: yoga. I’ve been practicing yoga for nearly three years now, and while technically not a certified instructor– what? No, not certified, but does it matter? Surely your medic isn’t an actual doctor, right? Probably an ophthalmologist, or a vet. Really? No medics? I’m surprised to hear that. How about a sheriff? No? Any soldiers? Any mechanics or, I don’t know, scientists? No way. And you already have a diarist? Well, I think we’re coming to the same conclusion, and I won’t waste any more of your time or mine. I’m not sure this will be the best fit for me at this juncture. Best of luck to you.

Please Accept my Application to Join Your Post-Apocalypse Survival Crew was originally published on Weekly Humorist

[mercurialsmile]

Let's Talk Books and Blogging: 4, 6, 24, 34, 38 & 50! ^^

Is there a book that you think needs a bigger fandom??

Honestly I. Don’t really like fandoms so I am… kinda glad the books I really enjoy don’t have fandoms because it means there’s no one around to ruin the books for me XD 

So I guess… no not really. But if I had to choose a book, then the Unwind Dystology then. 

Can you ever stop in the middle of a page or do you have to finish the page or chapter first??

Honestly, I can do both. It matters on how tired I am. Usually I try and finish the page/chapter

tho funny thing- last week I took a particularly strong sleeping pill then attempted to read before it kicked in…

When I went to go pick that book up again, I had to go and reread the last 7 or so pages bc I did not remember ANYTHING that happened in them 

ignoring the fact that I am rereading this book ofc

Have you read a book that was really hyped up but you didn’t enjoy??

KJSDKSJDKSDHSJHDS A BOOK DON’T YOU MEAN P MUCH EVERY HYPED UP PIECE OF TRASH 

okay okay… let’s see….. Insurgent was fucking awful, and so was The Fault in our Stars (which I’ve already mentioned before so eh). The Blood of Olympus was soooo disappointing I’m still bitter on how it ended. I mean the entire series had it’s issues but at that point I couldn’t handle it. 

THE ENTIRE WARRIORS SERIES OMEN OF THE STARS OH MY GOD what even was that?! 

THAT BEING SAID nothing pissed me off more than Mockingjay. Oh no. Nothing beats Mockingjay. 

My middle school was a SLUT for the hunger games everyone was reading it. It was the most popular series. So when Mockingjay came out and our library got one copy, everyone was fighting to get on the list to check it out. 

I waited weeks for this stupid book. Weeks. I could not wait to read it. I was dying to find out what happened next.

Then. I get the book. I clearly remember getting the little note to pick it up while sitting in my fucking Texas History class (which, by the way, is literally the worst subject. All you guys who don’t live in Texas and aren’t forced to take Texas History should be grateful). 

Anyways, unlike the other two Hunger Games books, it took me forever to read Mockingjay because it was just so AWFUL.

And I mean. I was in like seventh grade or smth. I was a fan of the TWILIGHT books at this point in my life. I liked Catching Fire. My taste in books was bad and even then, I found Mockingjay to be a terrible bore. 

I was. So angry when I finished it. And I swore I would never read Hunger Games ever again and nor would I read anything by the same author. 

And guess what? I haven’t. I’m still mad. 

What do you do to mark your pages??

I used to dog-ear them tbh but now I use whatever I can find as a bookmark. Which sometimes is a real bookmark, other times its just random pieces of paper. Idk just anything I can find I guess. 

Favourite genre??

I am. Not so sure? I know the genres I dislike but honestly I can like books from almost every genre as long as said books are good. 

I guess paranormal. Second would be fantasy, as a lot of fantasy books are. Boring. and shit. 

At least high fantasy is. High fantasy is awful pretentious garbage and I’ve only ever been able to get through Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. And for the former, I watched the movies first and loved them, which was why I was determined to get through the book.

Also because my mom loves the series. 

But I haven’t picked it up since I was 13 and I don’t plan on it. 

Do you read classics?? If so, what’s your favourite??

…Does The Outsiders count as a classic? No?

I hate classics. They’re fucking AWFUL stories. 

I literally do not give a shit what sorta message a book has. I don’t read books for them to preach at me. I read them for the story and characters and classics have really awful both of those 9 times out of 10.

Like. Gonna be real honest most the classics I read in school I… didn’t technically read…. 

I got 9 pages into Fahrenheit 451 and stopped and never picked it up again. I hate The Crucible with all my heart and I honestly zoned out when we had to listen to it. 

Shakespeare is garbage too. Yeah he did a lot for writing and making up words and shit. But I don’t give a fuck. I dare someone look into my eyes and tell me Othello was good in any manner whatsoever. 

So… I am really trying to think while writing out how much I hate classics… I really am. 

OKAY I liked Lord of the Flies decently enough but I would never go to reread it. It was… okay. Considering in that class, the last assigned book to us was Fahrenheit 451, literally giving us anything would be better. 

OKAY I dunno if this counts as a classic, but I did enjoy reading Pygmalion. I was also like… the only person in my class who loved how it ended. Like god fuck you go girl. 

I remember we had to write an extended ending for Pygmalion and I loved how it ended so much that I wasn’t so sure how to write it. Well, I ended up building off of how it ended and my teacher thought what I wrote was interesting and I admitted to him that I liked the original ending so wasn’t so sure what to write. I also got an 100/100 on that project lmao.

Fanfiction was my homework that night. Beautiful. 

And uh not related to the question but related to the thing on classics- I’ve always wanted to read Dante’s Inferno and am still disappointed I never got to. I might get a copy online and try and read it sometime tho.

I went on really long tangents I’m sorry but! Thanks for the ask!

[redscullyrevival]

A Monstrous Regiment of Women: Mary Russell Rundown

@sonnetscrewdriver, anything that reminds me to occasionally comment “Oh fuck off Tennyson” is a good book in my book.

Plot/Setting/Narrative

Haha, other than revisiting my own personal hell this was a good time!

I knew it would be with that amazing title. 

I love how men always try to condemn and speak poorly of women but actually make us out to sound badass.

“A Monstrous Regiment of Women” - nice!

“She was warned, she was given an explanation, nevertheless; she persisted” - nice!

HAHA dudes be wack.

Anyways.

There is a big ‘ol dynamic in this book and it doesn’t try to hid itself but because of the narrative style it’s a very sleek back and forth that can easily be overlooked among the thrills, tension, and action:

The lighting pace back and forth between Faith/Religion and Reason/Logic is hard to trace, precisely because it’s so perfectly stitched. 

Like thread holding two fabrics together we get glimpses of the characters discussing these dynamics upfront on the surface only for them to dive under the cloth and become the structurally important but unseen thread, before rising to the forefront yet again.

Over and under goes Faith and Reason, Religion and Logic (Agape and Eros!), from start to finish and it’s very compelling, very slick stuff.

What’s fascinating is how it feels like it’s all held together with those before the chapter quotes! 

What a gambit!

Especially because I’m pretty sure the chosen quotes are meant to be as humorous as they are reflective. 

I read the words of Tennyson and Shakespeare and friggin’ Knox and I’m not filled with anger or burning for justice; I laugh. They’re funny. 

What isn’t funny is how I also know these men shaped their times, that they are considered definitive and important and are apart of contemporary schooling and social undercurrents - they’re not simply far away melodrama but remain to be part of the day to day world, of my time as well as Russell’s.

The violence Russell is subjected to is unfortunately not extraordinary. 

The heroin is elaborate and a part of the Mary Russell narrative surrounding The Temple mystery as designed by King - but women being manipulated, used, and being targeted and subjected to overwhelming power? All that’s common place common day. 

You don’t read those before chapter quotes and think “Ah, women had it better when these men where alive.” And you certainly don’t read them and think “Well, it’s gotten better by Mary’s time” - and it’s the realization that the various quote’s undercurrents are still rooted into today that chills their absurdity. 

So how do we instigate change? 

Mary Russell

How do women gain ground?

Do we go to into the temples men worship?

Do we go into their spaces and ask uncomfortable questions and share our opinions, unasked?

Do we dig into the sacred texts looking for what has been changed in an effort to prove we’ve been included all along?

Do we interpret the text anew and preach our understanding?

OR do we maybe rewrite and/or add to the text and insert ourselves in?

You must see where I’m going with this.

What’s shocking is that all those above courses of action are faith based.

Logic and reason, the truth of women’s rightful place, can’t be grasped until those in power acknowledge we’re here and worth listening to and only pleas of faith can begin to breach that wall.

Which is massively fucked up and the root of all evil.

Bringing it back around, what’s also messed up is how Sherlock Holmes’ canon is exclusively understood as male.

The perception that follows the character is this: Sherlock Holmes is male, written by a man, and those of authority on the character and his stories are male and those fans who are true are male and that’s because Holmes invokes intelligence and reason and thus maleness - the notion being there isn’t anything of female worth to be found in proper Sherlock Holmes.

Barf, right?

Our author certainly thinks so.

King’s disgust for the Holmesian Understanding™ is practically palpable; not for the character of Holmes, but she does (to me) seem to distinctly turn her ire on the aura of his existence as he sits in wider literature’s mind’s eye.

And I don’t even think it’s Russell and Holmes locking lips that’s meant to be the big middle finger, although it is fun; I honestly think it’s as simple as King’s Holmes accepting, trusting, and considering her Russell as his partner in work and then, yes, in life.

Laurie King is working at turning Russell into the Logic and Holmes’ into the Faith.

I’m down with that.

‘Cause Mary Russell is my girl. 

I’m gonna read all them books. 

Sherlock Holmes

Lets stop and take a moment to really bask in the intense and amazing glory that is the throw-away-mention of Holmes’ son.

I know “canon” Holmes does not have a son.

I also know that the character of Sherlock Holmes has directly and indirectly given birth to the most characters ever committed to media’s various forms, which makes him the most promiscuous man I’ve ever read. 

For King to solidify Holmes parentage is a very big big big choice - just as big if not even bigger than having him kiss Russell and marrying her. 

Man, that must have really chapped some hides. 

Oh my god, there are folks I know who would probably burst into flames over such an “OOC” move. 

The son implies and seeds many things, not so subtly of which is that Holmes isn’t an automoton and down to get jiggy with it if so intrigued. 

What’s more sly is that King knows what she is about and knows what she is doing and is very adamant within the narrative that Holmes is secondary to her character - that Mary Russell is the protagonist and the mysteries of Holmes isn’t mystery to her and we better starting taking her narration as gospel.

So that was a fun kick in the pants. 

The romance was, you know, irritatingly thrilling.

Although! 

Holmes’ comment, of how he has wanted to kiss Mary since he met her, is a little iffy and not even entirely because she was 15 at the time (still side eye worthy though, obviously) - the issue is that his words imply pure physical attraction even when he didn’t know Mary or her at that point and I’ve been lead to believe their Grand Canyon age gap is inconsequential because their minds are wondrously in-tune and that is what connects their souls.

So that was kind of weird.

Especially from an author usually very tight in her characterizations who is meticulously organized. 

Highlighted Passages

“I am having a holiday from the holidays. I am relaxing, following the enforced merriment of the last week. An amusing diversion, Holmes, nothing else. At least it was, until your suspicious mind let fly with its sneering intimations of omniscience. Really, Holmes, you can be very irritating at times.”

Twice I hid from the sound of a prowling horse-drawn cab with two wheels. The second time launched me on a long and highly technical conversation with a seven-year-old street urchin who was huddled beneath the steps to escape a drunken father. We squatted on cobbles greasy with damp and the filth that had accumulated, probably since the street was first laid down following the Great Fire, and we talked of economics. He gave me half of his stale roll and a great deal of advice, and when I left, I handed him a five-pound note.

“I thought that man was going to punch you.” “It’s only happened once, that I didn’t have time to talk my way out of a brawl.” “What happened?” “Oh, I didn’t hurt him too badly.” She giggled, as if I had made a joke. I went on. “I had a much rougher time of it once during the War, with a determined old lady who tried to give me a white feather. I looked so healthy, she refused to believe me when I told her I’d been turned down for service. She followed me down the street, lecturing me loudly on cowardice and Country and Lord Kitchener.”

“I was grateful to that large and noisy man, however. Not immediately,” she added, inviting us to chuckle at her youthful passion, and many obliged, “but when I’d had a chance to think about it, I was grateful, because it made me wonder, Why does he want me to keep silent in church? What would be so terrible in letting me, a woman, talk? What does he imagine I might say?” She paused for two seconds. “What is this man afraid of?

“Here this man is working with God, thinking about God, living with God, every day, and still he does not trust God. Deep down, he doesn’t feel one hundred percent certain that his God can stand up to criticism, can deal with this uppity woman and her uncomfortable questions; he does not know that his God is big enough to welcome in and put His arms around every person, big and small, believers or seekers, men or women.”

“If you want to be logical about it, don’t tell me that the woman was given to Adam as a servant, a sort of glorified packhorse that could carry on a conversation.”

“That was what my loud preacher feared, to be told that he and his cronies had no more right to tell me that I couldn’t speak in God’s house than I had a right to tell the sun not to shine.”

Her attitude towards the Bible seemed to be refreshingly matter-of-fact, and her theology, miracle of miracles, was from what I had heard radical but sound. Oh yes, I should like to meet this woman.

“Men have other options. Women need the help of their sisters, and in fact, that to me is one of the most exciting things about what we’re doing, when women of different classes meet and see that we share more similarities than differences, in spite of everything. We are on the edge of a revolution in the way women live in this society, and some of us want to ensure that the changes that are coming will apply to all women, rich and poor alike.”

“The vote was a sop,” she snapped. “Granting individual slaves their manumission after a lifetime of service doesn’t alter the essential wrongness of the institution of slavery, nor does giving a small number of women the vote adequately compensate the entire sex for their wartime service—to say nothing of millenia of oppression.”

“But that’s . . . That means . . .” “Yes,” I said wryly, pleased with the effect my idea had on her. “That means that an entire vocabulary of imagery relating to the maternal side of God has been deliberately obscured.” I watched her try to sort it out, and then I put it into a phrase I would definitely not use in the presentation in Oxford: “God the Mother, hidden for centuries.” She looked down at the book in her hands as if the ground beneath her feet had, in the blink of an eye, become treacherously soft and unstable. She turned carefully to the drawer, riffled the gold-edged India paper speculatively, and put her Bible away. She returned to her chair a troubled woman and lit another cigarette. “Is there more of this kind of thing?” “Considerably more.”

“You couldn’t help but want to break his control and see what lay beneath.”

“If all these images can come from the word light, how many more from the word love, a thing invisible but for the movement it creates, a thing without physical reality or measurement or being, yet a thing which animates the entire universe. God is love. God creates, and when He sees His creation, He loves it and calls it good.”

Holmes would have done the matter by telegram, I knew, but I always prefer the personal touch in my matters of mild blackmail.

I felt reassured. If he could be rude, he was reviving.

I then turned my warning gaze back on Marie, who subsided, muttering French curses that I wish I could have overheard more clearly, for the sake of my education.

An accurate throwing arm is perhaps the only truly remarkable skill I possess.

None of that was absolutely true, but it fit the image and laid a basis for my future behaviour, which was to do whatever I damn well pleased, fine.

“The boy has a cup of tea for his mother,” she read, and repeated it, then looked up again and laughed, her eyes shining with the suddenly comprehended magic of the written word. Her teeth were mostly gums, she smelt of unwashed wool, her hair lay lank, and her skin wanted milk and fruit, but for the moment, she was beautiful. Veronica Beaconsfield knows what she is about here, I thought to myself, and took the work-roughened hand and squeezed it hard.

No slick-faced creature with a sharp blade was going to destroy my wardrobe again.

I always hated what Londoners called with such wry pride their “particulars,” their “peculiars,” their “pea soupers,” like the beaming parents of some uncontrollable and pathologically destructive brat.

Blind, stripped to my underclothing, and ill, I thought muzzily. Mary Russell, this is going to be very unpleasant.

He had already let me in under his guard, and I him. Holmes was a part of me, and to imagine myself “in love” with him was to imagine myself becoming passionately enamoured of my arm or the muscles in my back.

“These last weeks, since Christmas, have been odd ones. I have begun to doubt that I knew you as well as I thought. I have even wondered if you wished to keep some part of yourself hidden from me in order to preserve your privacy and your autonomy. I will understand if you refuse to give me an answer tonight, and although I freely admit that I will be hurt by such a refusal, you must not allow my feelings to influence your answer.” I looked up into his face. “The question I have for you, then, Holmes, is this: How are the fairies in your garden?”

The restlessness of the day before was controllable now, and the shame something to be acknowledged and not dwelt upon.

With the ponderous dignity of the profoundly intoxicated, she took up a strategic position across the street from the doors.

I could not do this. The safe was not going to open for me, not in the time I had. Tell it to Holmes, nagged a voice. Watch his brief flare of irritation give way to sympathy, understanding. Live with that, will you?

“I walked into the hall, to find utter panic, of the Oxford variety: tight voices, careful poly-syllables, a certain amount of wringing of hands.”

[katrinadizzle-blog]

History Challenge, rebooted.

Now that I learned some things about cc & have been thinking about history (BECAUSE MY SIMS GAMES AREN’T FUNCTIONING RIGHT AND TERRIBLE CUSTOMER SERVICE FROM EA, but... different rant:), I’ve decided to restart my beginner family! I am crazy. Legitimately crazy. I’m going to do 15 generations, people. Maybe even more than one generation in each era. Why am I a history and literature nerd? :(

Disclaimer: Eurocentric, cause that’s what is taught in schools, and I’m more familiar with it. :/

Stone Age!

North Africa somewhere, the Neolithic Era only. Flintstones-flavored. Pastimes: survival, making the babehs, fishing, farming.

Bronze Age!

Egypt c. 2000 bc

Writing focus. Farming, etc. Apparently when Egypt was most famous. Lots of kitties. :D

I didn’t really want to play this era just because there’s already a (current day) Egypt in game, and I think it’s weird to do both past and present, when I’m not even planning on landing there in the future generation. But I can’t think of another culture that exemplifies the Bronze Age writing better. But also, it’s very late and I’m tired. Suggestions?

Celts c. 500 bc

Polytheism and witchy stuff! The Island of women!! Boudica and so on. Or, I could cut this and replace my “island of women” want with making Valhalla down with the vikings. But, I feel like this is the closest culture to my own culture on this list, as Damion is pagan with lots of druid-influences and we are married and I have studied/considered the religion myself. Also, how cool would a bagpipe be for custom content?! Does that exist?! Can someone make it?! 😍

Greece, c. 320 bc

Logic, sciencey stuff and aliens. Cool temples. 

Rome, c. 40 bc

I didn’t want to play this one, because the cultures are so similar due to assimilation but I think I have to, unless I can come up with some sort of cultural transition. I could maybe do Mount Olympus though, out of a giant mountain, which could be fun. I could play with gods here, but keep them silent in the Greece era so it’s somewhat different gameplay. Or, play somehow with Jesus? Lol, but I don’t want him or his dad to smite me for being a snit ⚡️

Iron Age!

Scandinavia, c. 1000 ac

The vikings! I am going to make a legitimate longboat here using Island Paradise. Might be setting some random villages on fire with witches.

Late Middle Ages! 

England, c. 1450

You guys know about my Henry VIII obsession? Well. I’ll leave it at that.*

*Henry VIII was technically born outside of this era but it’s so close and history ages aren’t always exactly right and did I mention I love the morbid Henry VIII era for some reason?!*

Early Modern Age!

England, c. 1590

Shakespeare! Renaissance! Art! Writing! Queen Elizabeth! Peace, finally.

Some western state, America c. early 1800s

The old west!* Lawlessness! Probably based off West World because I’m so original like that.

Actually this is kind of also in the Victorian Age but I wanted to portray both sides :x

America or England, c. late 1800s/early 1900s

The Victorian Age! Combined with Edwardian. My favorite. Maybe modeled after the American Girl doll Samantha (don’t hate 😂) if in America or Frankenstein (maybe?) if in England. OR BOTH. F it. Either way, fascination with the supernatural for sure. :3 And prudishness. And all the pretty dresses and houses! 😍

New Orleans (probably), 1920s

Dancing, mixology and woohooing. My people are going to have so much fun.

+ (or separate)

America, 1930s

The Great Depression. Because hardship builds character! Mostly because I like to torture my sims, though. :) I’m thinking 1920s could be my generation’s young adult years and then adult would be The Depression?

Washington, DC, 1950s

Because they were all wholesome and stuff. Most of my motivation for this comes from the cute 50s diner custom content I have found, honestly.

America, somewhere, 2016

I could put Trump as president! And everybody so sad, etc.

America, somewhere, future

I could play the dystopian future from the game. :3 Maybe rocket science, cause space! Should I separate the races out too, into Eloi and Morlocks? 😂But, also this seems like a pessimistic ending and it’s pretty depressing to let my poor sims suffer so bad after playing them for centuries. I mean, at least during the other sucky parts of history, there will be a happier part of history to look forward to, right? 

OR. I could do this, and then someone, maybe a Doctor Who character? could activate the time machine and save the sims and make it the happy future. And then they figure out that sucks and it goes neutral again. It gets pretty timey wimey in that scenario though, and then that makes like 20 million generations, so I guess we will see how I feel at that point. I am protesting EA for at least a couple of expansions, so I’ll be playing ts3 for a while though anyway.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Also, I skipped the Enlightenment Era, because I just don’t care for it much. It’s okay, but it’s... like a Wednesday: it’s not terrible Monday, but it’s still not close enough to the weekend to feel happy. 👎

[onsumocom]

114 Best Happy Birthday Funny Quotes, Messages & Greetings in 2020

Happy Birthday Funny – I believe sincere people around you can make you a better person or can polish your personality. We can judge ourselves on our birthdays that what we have gained in the last year, from which point we started walking and have come to which position.

In the end, I would suggest grabbing the rope of God so that we can grow our personality and relation with God faster before our life comes to an end.

Best Happy Birthday Memes – Share with people around you

Funny Birthday Wishes For Girlfriend

no amount of words can ever be enough to express my feelings for you. happy birthday to the love of my life. wish you all the happiness in this world.

your smile can outshine a thousand candles. your touch can melt even the coldest heart. i love you today & every day.

your smile is sweeter than the sweetest cake in the world. thanks for being into my life. happy birthday to my sweet girlfriend.

i don’t believe in birthdays because i know you came straight from heaven to make my life happier & beautiful. all the good wishes for my angel.

i can’t wait to hold you in my arms & tell you how much this special day of yours means to me. happy birthday, dear.

you can make as many wishes as you want today. i promise you, i’ll make all your wishes come true one by one.

you are the perfect creation of god & the best gift any man has received in life. today is your birthday & i want to make sure it’s a special one.

you were born sweet & born for me to make my life a piece of heaven. i love you for everything you are. happy birthday.

i don’t know what good i did to deserve you but i do know that you deserve all the happiness in this world. happy birthday to my sweetheart.

i could buy you a thousand flowers but they would still be too petty to express what i feel for you.

i will always be there by your side loving you unconditionally and protecting you fiercely.

just as you blow the candles on your birthday cake, remember that there’s one flame endlessly burning in my heart, for you.

you have so many people wishing you on your birthday, but none of them holds the crazy-love for you that i have. love you to the moon and back.

your love is the spark of my life, the thrill of my fantasy; your touch starts the fire in me. be mine forever.

what do you get when you mix hotness and beauty and combine them both with a sexy personality.

i searched online and went to all the shops, old and new. but i could not find anything that was as pretty as you.

happy birthday to my love, my best friend, my agony aunt, my complaint hotline, my emergency contact, and my soul mate.

i am in fear because it’s your birthday! is it mandatory to bring a birthday gift for you? lol! i am just joking, happy birthday to you dear! i wish it will be your coolest birthday.

hey birthday girl, it’s your birthday! so, it’s your duty to make a treat for me, as i am wishing all the best things for you. let’s hurry for the treat.

you know how much i worried about your birthday cake! the chocolate cake is huge in size and it can make you fattier.

it’s your birthday! so, make sure you are going to properly utilize the day with a lot of monkey business! let’s have a crazy party.

your birthday is making you sexier with every passing year.

have i told you that you become more kissable on certain days of the year? today is one of them.

i don’t want anything from you, except for you to want me.

Happy Birthday Funny Quotes

Birthdays are good for you. Statistics show that people who have the most live the longest! (But it has also been scientifically proven that too many will kill you.)

Don’t let ageing get you down… it’s too hard to get back up again!

Middle age… when “happy hour” is a nap!

If gray hair is a sign of wisdom, then you’re a genius!

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Best Happy Birthday Quotes – For Everyone

What goes up but never comes down? Your age.

The tragedy of getting old: So many candles… so little cake

Technically you’re not 50. You’re only $49.95, plus tax!

They say you lose your mind as you grow older… what they don’t tell you is that you won’t miss it much!

Age doesn’t make you forgetful: having too many stupid things to remember makes you forgetful!

Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional. ~ Chili Davis

Age is strictly a case of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter. ~ Jack Benny

Youth is a gift of nature but age is a work of art. ~ Stanislaw Lec

Age is not important unless you’re a cheese. ~ Helen Hayes

I’ve reached an age where my train of thought often leaves the station without me.

Careful not to blow off that birthday candle too hard or your wig might come along with it too. Happy birthday! Stay Awesome!

A year closer to that hard earned pension. Congratulations! Wonderful Bday!

May you be as rich as Tony Stark, as handsome as Steve Rogers, as sexy as Thor, as sharp as Clint Barton and as green as the Hulk! Best Bday Superhero! Hope I won’t have to compare you to Nick Fury soon!

30 candles won’t fit the cake I bought for you. So I just got you 2. Happy 2nd birthday!

Growing up is a trap! Stay Play Station loving. Don’t stop building that Lego castle. But don’t forget to go to the office, buy groceries, pick your kids up after school and be home by dinner, Okay? Reality check. Welcome to the grown up life. Best bday!

I hope you do 100 other rotations around the Sun!

Being related to me is really the only gift you need. Just saying”

Forecast for your birthday: Alcohol, low standards, and poor decisions”

Happy Birthday Funny Wishes

Happy 29th birthday from your 110 lb. Friend.

Cheers to a hppy birthday

Happy baaaaaaa……Thday!

This card is late because… I forgot I’m very lazy I was helping batman fight crime

Let us never know what old age is. Let us know the happiness time brings, not count the years. – Ausonius

Total babe happy birthday

Party on wayne party on darth

I know you had lots of birthday wishes yesterday, but who is thinking of you today? Me, that’s who happy belated birthday

There were a lot of famous people born on your birthday. Too bad you aren’t one. May you grow wiser this year happy birthday!!!

Happy birthday to my favorite brother…Okay, so you’re my only brother, but if I had others you’d still be my favorite.

I bought you an awesome bottle of wine for your birthday! It tasted wonderful. I thought about you the entire time, though.

Every day you sparkle but today you rule! Happy birthday

Yay! Birthday time

Happy Birthday Messages – Simple and Unique [For Everyone]

I love you like I love cake at a birthday party. Don’t forget to invite me. Happy birthday.

Happy birthday. As you grow up, make sure you have more dreams than memories, more opportunities than chances, and more friends than acquaintances.

Happy birthday! A friend is someone who understands your past, believes in your future, and accepts you just the way you are – even if you are getting older. Thank you for being that friend, and happy birthday.

Happy birthday to a very special cougar.

But, I wanted a mouse.

Happy birthday… You little spoonful of sugar

Heres your fucking cake you little shit

Friends come and friends go, but sisters never seem to leave. This was supposed to come out sounding nice. Happy birthday

Happy birthday to an old friend I’ve had since we were both young and stupid.

Happy birthday I hope that you have the greatest birthday ever from the moment you open your eyes in the morning until they close late at night.

One birthday will not make you old. Even a dozen will not make you old. Maybe you should have stopped counting there though. Happy birthday, again.

Happy Birthday Wife Funny

You are the nutella to my toast and the ice cream to my apple pie. Happy Birthday to my beautiful wife.

Happy Birthday. I love you more than I love bacon… and that’s a heck of a lot.

Happy Birthday to the only woman I would ever want as my co-pilot

A wrinkled old hag you are not. Hair growing from your nostrils and ears you have not. Smelling of mothballs and musk you do not. Growing old is most becoming to you, my dear. May you have a birthday full of merriment & good cheer surrounded by your family and friends. Happy Birthday, my incredible wife.

Happy 5th Anniversary of your 29th Birthday, Sweetheart!

Happy Birthday, my lovely wife! Today is the one day out of the year where I thank God for my mother-in-law.

Happy Birthday to my household CEO. You are one-in-a-million and I am so thankful you are my wife.

Congratulations, my darling wife. You are now considered a classic!

Sweetheart, according to the credit card statements you really love that trendy vintage clothing store downtown. I thought I could save money by finding you something vintage from another place you frequent often. After I dusted off some cobwebs and washed it a couple times to get the smell of mothballs off–I think this sweater from the back of your closet looks pretty good! Happy Birthday, my beautiful trendsetting wife!

Happy Birthday, my beautiful wife. If we had been on the Titanic and only had 1 door between us, I would have made room for you and never let you go.

Happy Birthday, my wife! Today we celebrate and you are not allowed to lift a finger. Dinner, laundry and cleaning will be taken care of… put your feet up and enjoy your day!

Happy Birthday to the one that still makes my heart skip a beat and my stomach do somersaults when she enters a room. I am so proud and blessed to be able to call you my wife!

“What’s in a name? That which we call a wife by any other name would smell like bundt cake.” I may not be Shakespeare and I might not look like Magic Mike but I am your husband and that suits me just right. I love you! Happy Birthday, my sweet!

You are so lucky to have me as your husband…but not as lucky as I am to have you as my beautiful, thoughtful, intelligent wife! Happy Birthday, my love!

Happy Birthday Wishes – Simple and Unique [For Everyone]

Happy Birthday Wife Funny Quotes

You are the best boss a husband could ever want! Happy Birthday, Sweetheart! Do I have any vacation or sick days left? I love you!

Happy Birthday to you! You don’t look a day over…26…22..er…19..?? I love you and your eternal youth! You grow more beautiful with each passing year.

Happy Birthday to my hot & sexy wife!!! Love, Your very own Mr. Grey

I would volunteer as Tribute for you, my darling. May the odds forever be in your favor.

I wake up every morning and thank the good Lord for Him bringing you into my life. Jerry Maguire said it best ‘you complete me’. Happy Birthday, my beautiful wife. I love you always and forever.

Beautiful wife, you are. Happy Birthday, it is. This light sabre, I gift you. Love, Your Jedi.

Roses are red. Violets are blue. I think my wife is awesome and pretty great in bed too! Happy Birthday, beautiful!

Wife, for your birthday I have decided to give you something you have been wanting and pleading for years for. I hereby swear to no longer take my iPhone into the bathroom. See, my love for you knows no bounds!

Happy Birthday, my beautiful wife! How about tonight we go eat at that Chinese vegan restaurant you love, have a Downton Abbey marathon and then after that stroll down to that little coffee shop for the poetry reading—-said no man EVER!!

There are only 2 absolutes in this world: Chuck Norris is the biggest badass in Hollywood and my love for you is infinite.

I felt like I opened a Wonka bar and found my golden ticket when I met you. Happy Birthday to my beautiful wife. I look forward to the many wonderful, scrumdiddlyumptious years ahead.

If Doc Brown pulled up alongside me in his time machine and asked where & when I wanted to go… the day we 1st met so I could fall in love with you all over again (& then I’d probably ask to go back to the Wild West—who wouldn’t want to rob a bank with Wild Bill Hickok?!). Happy Birthday, wife.

Happy Birthday, my love! …and just so you know, I knew it was your birthday even before I saw it on Facebook.

I wrote on your Facebook wall to make it official. Happy Birthday, my beautiful wife.

You are another year older, wiser, and even more beautiful… I love everything about you and hope you have the best year yet. I love being able to call you my wife!!

Happy Birthday to the wife who has the best husband in the world! You are one marvelous woman!!

Happy birthday, dear wife! Will you have the goodness to take it easy on aging?

I’ve been around for a while to know that the more birthdays you celebrate, the more wrinkles God blesses you with. Happy birthday, honey!

Honey, as I pay my last respect to your youth, I have just realized that preventing you from aging will be a tough nut to crack! Happy birthday, though.

Happy birthday, my darling wife. Today is a testament that you are an expert at aging.

My dear, you keep piling up them years and you’ll soon start giving folks like Keith Richards and Methuselah a run for their money.

Happy birthday to my wrinkled yet gorgeously beautiful wife! Too many birthdays may have murdered your youth and wrinkled your skin, but I love you even more.

Honey, now you are really as old as your ancestors! More power to you!

Dear wife, you are more precious to me than all the gold reserves piled up in the United States Bullion Depository.

Happy Birthday to the one that still makes my heart skip a beat and my stomach do somersaults when she enters a room. I am so proud and blessed to be able to call you my wife!

Happy Birthday, my beautiful wife. If we had been on the Titanic and only had 1 door between us, I would have made room for you and never let you go.

Happy Birthday, my wife! Today we celebrate and you are not allowed to lift a finger. Dinner, laundry and cleaning will be taken care of…put your feet up and enjoy your day!

“What’s in a name? That which we call a wife by any other name would smell like bundt cake.” I may not be Shakespeare and I might not look like Magic Mike but I am your husband and that suits me just right. I love you! Happy Birthday, my sweet!

You are so lucky to have me as your husband…but not as lucky as I am to have you as my beautiful, thoughtful, intelligent wife! Happy Birthday, my love!

You are the best boss a husband could ever want! Happy Birthday, Sweetheart! Do I have any vacation or sick days left? I love you!

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[douchebagbrainwaves]

STARTUPS AND DIGRESSIONS

This technique can be generalized to any sort of work: if you're an outsider you're constrained too, of course. If you're not threatening, you're probably being too conservative.1 An essay is something else. Most successful startups take funding at some point. Maybe. There's nothing about knowing how to program that magically enables business people to understand them.2 At first they're always dismissed as being unsuitable for real work, jump on it. This seems a good sign. But even a proximate cause of death is listed as ran out of money while you're trying to do it, do it.3 The reason is that employees no longer trust companies to deliver deferred rewards: why work to accumulate deferred rewards at a company that actually listens—you'll generate fanatical loyalty. The dating sites are running big ad campaigns right now, which is the most economical route to the sea. There are more digressions at the start, because I'm not sure where I'm heading.

And as for the disputation, that seems clearly a net lose. Microsoft's original plan was to sell something to companies.4 After that there's not much of a market for ideas. Then they'll pay big time.5 So the acquisition came to a screeching halt while we tried to sort this out. You need this for everyone: investors, acquirers, partners, reporters, potential employees, and even now I find it kind of weird. Even if your colleagues were impressed by your credentials, they'd soon be parted from you if your performance didn't match, because the people I worked with were some of my best friends.6 Great things happen when a group of employees go out to dinner together, talk over ideas, and then instead of nagging them in detail, I'll just be able to. Being able to take risks is hugely valuable.7 Hard, but doable. Hackers should do this even if they wanted to.8

But when you examine that election, it tends to support the charisma theory more than contradict it. Your Hopes Up.9 We've now invested in enough companies that I've learned a trick for determining which points are the counterintuitive ones: they're the ones I have to keep repeating it?10 The sort of writing that attempts to persuade may be a valid or at least by oneself—get proper indoor space. Even if you could do is find a middle-sized non-technology company and spend a couple weeks has been trained to click on Back after following a link. Figure out what? The only reason to hire someone is to do something more serious, and that would have been before English evolved enough to make it happen a little faster, you're much more likely to buy you, because if you want to win through better technology, aim at smaller customers.11 When you're running a startup you feel like a little bit in the commitment department, and indeed the whole concept of the modern university was imported from Germany in the late twentieth century.

There is try. It's populated by people who talk a lot with one another as they work slowly but harmoniously on conservative, expensive projects whose destinations are decided in advance, the supporting paragraphs the blows you strike in the conflict, and the rock that sinks more of them than anything else.12 Likewise, it's obvious empirically that a country that doesn't let people get rich is headed for disaster, whether it's worth going through the usual channels to become one yourself, and what you expect of other people wanted the same thing the river does: backtrack.13 I worry that they not only teach students the wrong things about writing, but put them off writing entirely. But they would do even better to examine the underlying principle.14 But if you skip running for a couple weeks, it will probably be a stretch for you, the founders should include technical people. Better to release something and let them tell you.15 If the tests a society uses are currently hackable, we can also make them matter less. About what, and the problems you understand best are your own.

My only leisure activities were running, which I needed to do to make people pause. When friends came back from faraway places, it wasn't initially a startup idea.16 The word try is an especially valuable component. In cold places that margin gets trimmed off.17 At the bottom are business, literature, and the harder performance is to measure, and to spend as little money as possible. If we're determined to eliminate economic inequality, there is still one way out: we could say that we're willing to go ahead and do without startups. Microsoft Word did it to the manufacturers of specialized video editing systems, and now that we were established as a media company, or portal, or whatever we were, search could safely be allowed to wither and drop off, like an illustrator inking over a pencil drawing.18

In a technology startup, which most startups are, the founders should include technical people. Around 1000 Europe began to catch its breath after centuries of chaos, and once started they tend continue on their initial path even if it's mistaken. Watch closely how power is exercised, and demand an account of how decisions are made. Wodehouse or Evelyn Waugh or Raymond Chandler is too obviously pleasing to seem like serious work, as reading Shakespeare would have been before English evolved enough to make it happen a little faster, you're much more likely to double your sales. I think we're just beginning to see its democratizing effects. What do you wish there was? That's probably roughly how we looked when we were a couple of founders who have some great idea they know everyone is going to love, and spend less than you make. You can come along at any point and make something better, and I got in reply what was then the party line about it: that Yahoo was no longer a mere search engine. But there is a proportionately large payoff. It's them you have to do all three. So for all practical purposes, there is still one way out: we could say that we're willing to go ahead and do without startups.

Notes

You could probably starve the trolls of the market.

A smart student at a party school will inevitably arise. Now to people he knew.

I didn't. Maybe it would be much bigger news, in the same lesson, partly because so many trade publications nominally have a notebook to write it all at once, or a community, or how to be. Is what we do at least consider going into the world wars to say that I'm skeptical whether economic inequality is a lot would be a big market, meaning they give it back. 7 reports that one of the medium of exchange would not make a more powerful sororities at your school sucks, where it sometimes causes investors to act.

Abstract-sounding nonsense seems to have moments of adversity before they ultimately choose not to. But we invest in so many startups from Philadelphia.

The best one could aspire to the customer: you are listing in order to attract workers.

It would probably a real partner.

5% a week before. I'm also an investor? FreeBSD.

Trevor Blackwell presents the following recipe for a slave up to two of each token, as it sounds plausible, the mean annual wage in the beginning even they don't have to go to a later Demo Day by encouraging them to make people richer. Later you can send your business plan to make a brief entry listing the gaps and anomalies. They'd freak if they make money off their median investments.

But his world record only lasted 46 days. Foster, Richard Florida told me about several valuable sources. Quite often at YC. Now the misunderstood artist is not writing the agreement, but for a startup or going to need to warn readers about, like a VC.

Rice and beans are a lot better to be their personal IT consultants, building anything they could attribute to the point of saying that because server-based applications. Few technologies have one. Aristotle didn't call this metaphysics. What I'm claiming with the exception of the river among the bear gardens and whorehouses.

It's suspiciously neat. If an investor or acquirer will assume the worst. You can relent a little too narrow than to call those before a fall.

But a couple hundred years ago they might shy away from the tube. We walked with him for a lot of investors caring either. When economists talk about humans being meant or designed to live in a world in verse. If our hypothetical company making 1000 a month grew at 1.

Thanks to judgmentalist for this is a big market, meaning master. 35 companies that can't reasonably expect to make Viaweb. The New Industrial State to trying to figure this out. I had zero effect on returns, and earns the right sort of pious crap you were expected to do video on-demand, and the 4K of RAM was in principle get us up to his time was 700,000 sestertii for his freedom Dessau, Inscriptiones 7812.

This is similar to over-hiring in that.

Bankers continued to dress in jeans and t-shirts, to buy your kids' way into top colleges by sending them to. That's the difference directly.

More generally, it inevitably turns into incantation.

As I was insane—they could to help SCO sue them. This too is true of nationality and religion too. No one in its IRC channel: don't allow the same phenomenon you see what they're going to distinguish between gravity and acceleration.

I have set up grant programs to run an online service. What you learn about books or clothes or dating: what ideas did European culture have in 1800 that Chinese culture didn't, they would probably be multiple blacklists. Most explicitly benevolent projects don't hold themselves sufficiently accountable.

[xavieralexander1980]

A Guideline to Reading My Work and Generally Blowhard Post About Poets, Activism, and Performance Art

(Written for Facebook were I post usually)

(Warning, I was drinking coffee and just started writing to clarify some things. It has turned out to be an EXTREMELY LONG post. You might want to visit later if you care and have the time):

--I stared into the sun one time for three or four hours. For a long while afterwards there was a floating blue and red dot or floater in my field of vision, but my eyes adjusted. It's kind of a miracle that I can see at all. I completely destroyed my macula. That is why you often see mistakes in punctuation. I think it is a comma when it is a period. I was delusional when I stared at the sun.

--I started writing poetry at 15 in 1995. In 2008, I branched out to poetry films in grad school, which you can see those films on my page, Caruso Films. That is a long time of writing only poetry.

--After reading David Foster Wallace in 2011, I branched out into nonfiction, memoir, and experimental essays. Some of those essays have been published in journals, such as "Sugar Mule" and "And/Or". However, it has only been 5 years of truly writing prose, so if you think my prose is weird or rough or shaky, it is because I am an amateur experimental essayist.

--In poetry and experimental writing, there has to be an entry point into the author's style. Every day if you are following any of this, I am experimenting. One thing I notice is that I try to be as clear as a fucking idiot who is grasping for words in my prose. I don't want you to think I am being condescending at all. Or that everything I write is somehow profound. Because it isn't usually: Being profound or not, after a while, I have learned, in writing is all the same. In learning the craft of writing, writers say that you have to "earn" interesting and profound points and ideas. There is no shortcut in earning something, as you know. It is all doing and work hours.

--Writers usually don't show the world their work hours. What you see is the finished, polished product. In a sense, I don't see my writing as "nonfiction" in any conventional sense. Since this is Facebook, and it is like town hall square in olden days, I have always intended it to be performance art. I am a great admirer of performance art, such as spoken word, magic, jesters, busking, impromptu comedy, jazz, or even ballet. I see poetry as my strength, prose my weakness. At least, that is my opinion. I don't want to impose that, though. I notice people actually prefer my little blogs and essays. I also notice people prefer brevity, but here's the thing about that: this is all published, and can be perused by anyone on earth later. I don't hide my profile or any status updates.

--As an activist, which much of my writing is political, and I would argue Facebook, as a public forum, is all political and social dynamic, I have always enjoyed independent and maverick art and statements, such as Neil Young or Lou Reed or Emerson or Thoreau or just about any poet in World Literature. While poets have come in groups like the Beats or Romantics or Dadaists (the first punk rock artists), within those groups, there have always been individual and political differences between poets, such as Ginsberg and Kerouac, or Byron and Wordsworth, or Marcel DuChamp and Tristan Tzara. I try to allude to poets and literature I admire, btw. Here is a compendium: (I sort of went hogwild. Skip for time sake.) -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1. Welsh maverick and alcoholic prodigy, Dylan Thomas, my first love. To know more about his style and who he is, see Gerard Manley Hopkins and John Donne, both Protestant ministers.

2. I prefer World Literature. a. Russian poets: Brodsky, Mayakovsky, Mendlestam, Voznesensky, and Pushkin (Shakespeare of Russia). b. Germanic, Polish, Eastern European and Jewish: Goethe (Shakespeare of Germanic Literature), Paul Celan, Maria Wisława Anna Szymborska, Edmond Jabes are good starting points. c. Western European poets come in schools: French Symbolists (who invented free verse and influenced TS Eliot), Surrealists, Dadaists and Futurists (who opened poetry to all the arts), and British poets you know. d. Although not technically World Lit, American Southern Poets are not discussed near enough: John Crowe Ransom, Allen Tate, Robert Penn Warren are like the Willie Nelsons and Johnny Cashes of the South.

3. American Schools and Poets I would recommend: John Cage (John Lennon and Yoko Ono), David Antin (who didn't write but spoke all of his poetry and recorded it), Language School, and Black Mountain School.

4. For Queer poets: Allen Ginsberg, Walt Whitman, Jack Spicer, are the big guys. Lesbian poets: you should know are Sappho and Adrienne Rich. Just talk to your gay and lesbian friends about poets they like.

5. For Black and African lit, "Negritude" school, see amiri baraka and Aime Cesaire, who are, to me, very important for their poetic styles. Check out your local Spoken Word show. There are a million things going on.

6. I don't even know where to begin with Asian Literature. Haiku poet Basho and Korean poet Yi Sang are two big poets. In China, poetry was the literature of the scholar class. Prose wasn't invented until 1900 and it was considered pulp. I would refer you to my Professor Walter K. Lew for all Asian and Buddhist Literature. Lao Tzu is phenomenal, in so many ways. From religion to spirituality to poetry, it is all one and the same.

7. Spanish poets I like are Chilean Poet Pablo Neruda (His sonnets are the best love poems), Brazilian Poet Carlos Drummond de Andrade, and to know these poets, check out Federico Garcia Lorca from Spain. It doesn't hurt to know the first novelist Cervantes, who birthed the modern novel, Don Quixote. I like the 1940s translation by Samuel Putnam. Critic (Big Blowhard of English Lit) Harold Bloom considered Cervantes the only equal to Shakespeare, who both were writing at the same time (and didn't know about each other).

8. Middle Eastern and Persian poets: Rumi, Ghalib (who wrote ghazals, one of my favorite forms). I can't say I am too familiar with Contemporary Middle Eastern poets, but you come across them in literary journals. See the Koran, as well.

9. For Feminist poets, see Anne Sexton, HD, Gertrude Stein, Diane Wakowski, and Adrienne Rich, again, to name a few. Although not a poet, see Renaissance Italian writer, Christine de Pizan, and her fictional story, "The Book of the City of Ladies", which birthed Feminist Literature.

10. The Bible, Torah, Tao Te Ching, Koran, Gnostic Judaic and Christian Books, Bhagavad Gita , Vedas and Upanishads, and Homer, (Most Buddhist Literature was orally passed down but all we have is prose versions. Except certain Chinese Buddhist Schools: See Haiku and Renga forms): all of which is technically poetry. And that is a different entry point or lens into those important works. I think in this day of organized religion it is very important to remember that spiritual texts and myths were written as poetry, and translated into all languages. People have noted some of my religious views, but I do so from poetry.

(I don't know why I just gave you a compendium of poets and authors. I got excited and took a trip down memory lane. I prefer World Literature translations. I just have always gravitated toward them and learning about the world through their poets.)

In case you don't want to go through all of World Literature, here are anthologies I would recommend: 1. Norton Anthologies, of course. 2. Poems For the Millennium by Jerome Rothenberg and Pierre Joris (Most of the poets I mentioned can be found in the first two volumes and it is a great starting off point). -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

--Personally, I have always enjoyed anthologies and literary journals over individual poets. I enjoy poems over poets, generally speaking. The best guide to literary journals is New Pages.com. Everything from experimental writing to traditional writing can be found there. The big thing now or in the last few years is "hybrid' writing, which is basically not identifying the style of writing and blending all the styles. So just to be obvious, my Facebook page could be quote hybrid. The other big thing is a more "personal style". To paraphrase Frank O Hara, why write a poem when you can just call your friend on the telephone?

--My father has told me a million times that he doesn't get my poetry. And my father is more intelligent than I am. He is a doctor. I really don't have an answer or explanation. I read poetry like I read an article in the Washington Post. I read poetry on the toilet. I try not to "comprehend" it. Sure there are different ways to analyze it, and there are scholars who do that all day long. I have done that and can do that. But the difference is kinda like hearing "Kind of Blue" and studying it. I just appreciate the album, I don't know Jazz Theory. Most of the time, I just feel or listen to poetry. School and scholarship is the time and place to scan, do close readings, and theorize poetry, in my opinion. I am not a scholar. I am not a critic. I am an artist. I create. Most of theory and criticism stifles me. And I would recommend both scholarship and theory for any artist, but I wouldn't bog myself too much, not until you are interested in it. There are people who have been doing that all their life. And so much more power to them.

--Last point: I have Bipolar Disorder. I have coped with this illness all my life. Mental illness is a debilitating illness in the sense of functioning in conventional society. You know someone who has a mental illness, beside me. And not much is truly understood about mental illness. David Foster Wallace hung himself due to chronic depression, and he is arguably the greatest nonfiction writer in the last twenty years. Dostoevsky suffered from fits of seizures in which he had profound revelations. Hemingway shot himself due to alcoholism and some underlying mental illness. Sylvia Plath committed suicide due to a mental illness and I believe it was un-diagnosed bipolar disorder (I could be wrong). Emily Dickinson suffered from agoraphobia and stayed home for most of her life. While I am not saying I am like those geniuses, and it is a misnomer to think that everyone with a mental illness is an artist or genius, I bring it up because artists I admire had mental illnesses. The point is to show that sometimes society is wrong about things, as you know. Blacks, immigrants, queer folk, women, veterans, homeless people, poor people, and virtually every marginalized group I can think of society has been wrong about. And many of these marginalized people are starting to come out of the closets and say, guess what, society doesn't quite get me. And they are doing so in art and argument.

"In conclusion," LOL, these are guidelines and entry points for readers. For the most part, I believe people don't care actually. But neither do I most of the time. I also have been drinking coffee this morning and I get rolling with thoughts, which explains the length of this post. LOL.