#novel atticus

[dreamdropcompanions]

yeah we got the plushie autism

[germplush]

when you get the collecting plushies autism instead of the math or science autism

[pianostrings]

Rebel Moon Novelization

Some interesting parts from the novelization! Contains potential spoilers for Rebel Moon under the cut.

The novelization opens with the destruction of King Heron's world, as punishment for aiding the Bloodaxes. Noble forces Heron's son, Aris, to kill his father with the bone staff to protect his family before he is conscripted into the army. Noble beats the rest of his family to death anyway.

Kora's sex scene with Den is fleshed out (wink). Inwardly, she admits to liking Gunnar, despite his shyness, but has issues with intimacy and the idea of starting a family.

Hagen, a villager whose wife and daughter died, was the one who found Kora and took her in. He is something of a father figure to her.

Slightly longer dialogue scene with Sam & Jimmy. Features Jimmy's line from the trailer that a 'A king is a man, and a man can fail or betray. But a myth is indestructible.' He mentions that Balisarius had the Jimmies separated from Princess Issa, despite their vow to protect her, and that most of them had never set foot on the Motherworld.

Sam thanks Aris for saving her (❁´◡`❁)

Den takes over as the village leader after Sindri and his wife are bone staffed to death 😓

Before Kora leaves, she asks Hagen to task Private Aris to fix the guns on the dropship she crash-landed on Veldt in.

In Kora's flashback scene, we learn Kora's family lived above the tea shop they owned. She had two older siblings. They are killed by Imperium soldiers while she is upstairs packing.

Kora's scene with Balisarius has dialogue. He introduces himself. She tells him her name is Kora. She believes he is impressed she had the guts to pull the trigger. He renames her on the spot 😒 and takes her as a 'a gift to himself and his legacy' 😒 because 'every leader had an heir'.

Kora's life on the ship is briefly detailed. Balisarius brings her to a surrendering planet and makes her watch the soldiers open fire on its people. She is sent to train at the Imperium military academy and doesn't see Balisarius for years. Before she leaves, he tells her she can't tell anyone about her past or where she came from. She graduates with top marks and her final test is orchestrated by Balisarius: it involves her executing a man without question.

More scenes in the village. Aris keeps his Imperium uniform to keep up appearances for transmissions to the Motherworld.

While trying to fix the ship, Aris and Sam share how their parents died. It's giving young love over shared trauma 🥰 They wake to find there is a deer with antlers removed (important!) roasted on a spit and the ship has been repaired. Aris guesses it was Jimmy who did it.

We hear from Jimmy's perspective that he ran to save Sam because he felt the same connection and loyalty to her as he did Princess Issa (interesting). He decides to make his own choices, carves his own staff, cloaks himself with a robe, and a pair of fashionable deer antlers to go into the wilderness.

Hickman hints at Tarak's backstory-- he says Tarak runs when given the chance and that he let his own people die at the hands of the realm.

Cassius takes a call from someone who makes him more uneasy than Noble, a high scribe named Enoch with abilities that defy logic. Cassius finds Noble predictable in his brutality.

We learn more about Cassius: he doesn't have the implants the realm's upper classes and high-ranking officials make to their bodies because it would leave him open in ways he didn't want. Cassius's family isn't native to Moa (the Motherworld) but had been there for generations and became affluent. His mother's penchant for opulence mounted debts for his father, a senator, and her modifications revealed their circumstances to another senator who blackmails them. Cassius's father trades him to serve with the priests who tells him that silence and observation are powerful tools (interesting).

Sexy scene with Noble and the Octopus, called the Twins. They were gifted to him by a warlord and are one of the few things he actually likes. Not shockingly, he is really into tentacle shit and BDSM. Cassius interrupts and Noble offers to let him go a round with the Twins. Cassius, grossed the eff out, politely declines. It's TMI, even for him.

More Cassius backstory: his career in the priesthood doesn't work out; after his family is ruined and executed, he joins the military order where he meets Noble, who confirms his father was responsible for Cassius's family's downfall & execution. In the academy, Cassius sees Noble's cruelty up close. He thinks of Noble as someone charming and cruel, surrounding himself with slightly smarter but less ambitious people. Good at working his way into the right circles.

Daggus is known throughout the galaxy for its cobalt mines. The land was leveled and indigenous life died out. Workers, mostly refugees, move there with the promise of wealth only to be exploited and live in poor conditions.

Kora offers to help Nemesis with Harmada, but she declines. She says: 'Harmada has grown accustomed to the pain of her grief. I know her rage intimately. We are not enemies.'

After watching Gunnar save the child, Kora thinks that even though he isn't a seasoned warrior, he has the heart of one. She's catching feelings.

In a flashback scene, she watches Princess Issa play in the snow at the winter castle. There is a frozen lake with giant fish and creatures swimming underneath (important later).

Kora witnesses Issa bring the bird back to life and warns her not to show anyone her power. Issa recounts that when she was born she almost killed her mother but when she was placed in her arms, the Queen was miraculously healed. Everyone present was sworn to secrecy. Unbeknownst to them, the King watches this scene from the castle window.

The King approaches her later and tells Kora that Issa likes having her as a guard and expresses his happiness at her new role. He asks if she misses her homeworld, but Kora doesn't respond. Balisarius told the King that Kora was abandoned as a child.

King Levitica agreed to help the Bloodaxes because he finds the Imperium's notion of 'homogeneous purity vile' and because 'they neither respect nor value anything that doesn't serve them at the expense of their own lives.' His comfort and kindness remind Kora of Hagen, her father figure on Veldt.

While waiting for the Bloodaxes, Tarak tells the others of how the people of his home, the Samandrai system, were killed or enslaved by the Imperium. Kora asks why he wasn't taken and conscripted to be made an example of. When he doesn't respond, she surmises he left before that could happen. Kai calls him a coward and ribs the other men. He and Titus almost get into a fight. Gunnar tells Kora he thinks Kai is a dick.

Darrian tells Devra that "people need a revolution they can see". When he refers to not allowing another world to fall in their name, he is presumably referring to King Heron's world at the beginning of the book.

A dying King Levitica tells Noble that "goodness will return to the universe. Endless war and needless death will end in the universe., There will be one to bring it back." So sad to see the end of his squidgy face.

Kora and Tarak speak; Tarak doesnt trust Kai, but she brushes it off. Girl, there are SO many alarm bells ringing.

Kai's betrayal reminds Kora of the "first monumental betrayal in her life."

There is more dialogue between Noble and the team as they are bound and about to be transported. Noble mocks Nemesis's dead children (seriously, fuck this guy!!!). The spine machines are meant to paralyse them for transport.

Noble asks if Gunnar will be a problem being transported unbound but Kai laughs it off, saying Gunnar is a coward. Oop. That was a bad read.

The fight sequence actually has them fighting together. Titus acknowledges Nemesis saving his life. Tarak and Titus fight happily side by side.

Darrian's death scene is vague; it says his body 'shut[s] down like the hunk of metal he clung to' while screaming 'Death to the Motherworld! Death to the Realm! For Shasu!' while hysterically laughing.

More dialogue when Noble and Kora fight. When she looks over his (presumably) dead body, she wishes it was Balisarius instead and is sad to know that she'll likely never be able to confront him in person.

There's a "who's going to fly this thing" moment with Kai's freighter. A crime this was left out. (Also, they don't answer this; the freighter apparently just lands itself when they arrive back in Providence.)

Back on Veldt, Sam invites Aris to stay in her home. She loves sewing and quilting, which she learned from her grandmother. Aris likes the quilts, which is good because she has so many.

After the company arrive in the village, they are followed by two Hawkshaws at a distance. They are watched, in turn, by Jimmy.

Devra commands her ships return to 'Base One'.

The astral plane setting where Noble meets Balisarius is confirmed to be the winter gardens of the royal palace where the Princess Issa scene was set.

Balisarius' face is noted to have been kept young with 'fortune and science' (yeah, and bad CGI 😐)

It's explicitly confirmed that Kora is responsible for the assassination of the royal family, or at least is being blamed for it. Noble says: 'I have found her. The hated other who murdered in cold blood that which we held most dear.' He also calls her 'the ethnic impurity, the monster, the Scargiver, the enemy of us all.' Balisarius says Arthelais is the 'assassin of the royal family, she who killed the king and queen, as well as her charge, the Princess Issa.' - From Rebel Moon Part One - A Child of Fire: The Official Movie Novelization by V. Castro Other interesting parts:

The scribes extract the teeth of their victims and put them on their masks in front of an image of Princess Issa to 'honour her.' The effect is, not surprisingly, extremely horrifying.

While Kora is living on the ship, she sees a Kali in a giant metal encasement with 'thick tubes of red and blue energy' and 'something alive in there'. She feels sorry for it, and thinks it is the only other thing on the ship who understands the feeling of being trapped.

Kora's off-worlder status is being made a big deal of, and I'm still not sure why. Balisarius apparently gets no heat for raising the assassin that murders the royal family?

Cassius is given way too much backstory for him to just be a random henchman. I suspect he may be collecting information to overthrow Noble at some point.

I am outing myself as a Sam is Princess Issa truther, even if it doesn't make any sense at all. But I think it's neat.

Sam and Aris ❤

Jimmy ❤

[thek1ngspoet]

“… it’s never an insult to be called what somebody thinks is a bad name.”

— Atticus Finch, To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)

(I’m reading it for the first time. Such an amazing book.)

[magyarmartir]

Discussed it with my sister and she was wrong. I need to know if Tumblr is more right or also wrong.

[ragingduststorm]

'He owned a villa on the Motherworld dedicated to pleasure and a little pain, but when not there (which was often) he had other means of release. Noble moaned as the slick black tendrils kneaded and probed his body. The tightening of their grip around his cock, wrists, and neck made him forget who he was and that anything existed outside this bed chamber. He liked to feel his windpipe constrict until the lack of oxygen gave him a sense of lightheaded euphoria. Miniscule suction cups invisible to the human eye titillated him to a pleasure most humans didn't know existed. The Twins had come to him as a gift from a warlord in a world rich in phosphorous. It was the only present he ever received in his life that meant anything or gave him real pleasure. Few things satisfied him. He arched his back and tightened his ass as he cried out in ecstasy. His eyes bulged and the cords of his neck felt as if they would snap as he was taken to the edge of death, seeing the birth of stars every time he found himself in the grip of the Twins. They released him when he orgasmed for them. His bodily fluids lapped up right after. Their slimy tentacles loosened, and he blinked his eyes before stumbling back. "Let me watch you now.”' - Rebel Moon Part One - Child of Fire: The Official Novelization by V. Castro, p.165

[loserboyrobinwrites]

Chapter One: Wild Child

welcome welcome welcome this is the first draft of the first chapter of my novel!! it has NOT been edited. There WILL be mistakes. Apologies for the formatting, it's a little different on here than it is in word. Uhhh tw for the f slur!

This chapter is approximately 3k words! Enjoy!

Atticus

The first things I knew were wild. Wild grass under my feet, rivers gushing though the wild forests, the animals scurrying and hiding about my bare feet. 

   The moss cushioned me as I fell while learning to walk. 

   I knew it then and I know it now that the wild had something to say and something to teach.      My childhood home was in the middle of the woods, nestled against a river that tended to flood during the spring.  

   My mum’s name was Lyllian and my mama’s name was Jude. But I never called them that.  

   Our home felt soft and kind, with warm lights and fireplaces and hot cups of cocoa during the winter. I remember I’d climb over the ends of the staircase railings and on the back of the couch despite my warnings not to. 

   Mama always scolded me and told me I’d have to go to bed early if I kept climbing. I would just pout and poke my tongue out at her.  

   Mum told me stories about frogs in the rain and raised me on apple pies and smiles. She was soft but her hands were calloused from all the wood-chopping she did. She never let me touch the axe, much to my dismay. Mama would smile from where she would be cracking pepper over dinner. 

   Because we were so close to the wild, it was woven into my veins just as securely as the love I was raised on, and I took my first steps on moss near the river.  

   We spent a lot of time outside. We even walked to the school I spent my days at when I was old enough. And I would always insist on walking barefoot, even when I was old enough to put my shoes on by myself.  

   Mama smiled at it, but Mum would always sigh and give me a pointed glance. She made me put on my shoes before I went inside the school building.  

   I was a nightmare as a student. I would always be itching to run, and I’d take off my shoes at every chance I got. I would mimic the wolves I heard howling in the woods, and I would squawk back at the birds outside. I couldn’t sit still in class, and I scribbled on my worksheets. 

   My handwriting was horrifically bad, barely even legible. There were many parent-teacher meetings and extracurricular lessons so that I wouldn’t fall behind. Mum always made sure to sit next to me at the kitchen table and help me with my letters and words, and I remember she smelled of fireplace smoke and incense.  

    Mama would always ask me if I’d done my homework and every time I would say yes even if I hadn’t. And she’d hug me and her work shirt would smell of grease and metal but on weekends she’d smell of pine needles and the woodshed.  

~-~

  Once, there was a movie that I watched, but I don’t remember anything about it except the portrait of a snarling, seething wolf.     When I was seven or eight, a boy named Harlow approached me at lunchtime and said, in a rather rude tone, “Michael says you have faggots for parents.” 

   Now I didn’t know what that word meant, so I asked him, my feet digging into the soil. 

   “It means they’re...” he leaned in to whisper to me. “They’re gay.” 

   I looked at him quizzically, still not sure what he meant.  

   Harlow huffed. “You have two mums,” he said pointedly.  

   I took a bite of my sandwich and nodded.  

   Harlow’s eyes widened. “Really? It’s true?” 

   I frowned and nodded. I swallowed my mouthful of sandwich. “Is that bad?” 

   Harlow stared at me in shock. “Of-Of course it’s bad! How will you grow big and strong without a dad?” 

   At this, the image of the snarling wolf appeared in my mind and rage rushed through me. I’m not sure why. I hardened my gaze and Harlow seemed to stumble a bit.  

   And then I tackled him to the floor with a guttural growl. He screeched and all at once that rage disappeared, and I stood up, backed off and turned away, fleeing into the trees. 

   I didn’t look back. 

~-~

Mama sighed as I sat on my hands and swung my legs back and forth. The clock on the wall ticked incessantly, and the air conditioning had been turned full.     It was one of those units that swung the blast of freezing air back and forth, so every twenty or so seconds I would be hit with a chill.      Across the desk in front of me was Mrs. Hillywinkle, her wrinkled face scrutinizing the documents in front of her. Her computer whirred so loudly I thought it might take flight. 

   Mama had come from the shop early to come to this meeting. Usually Mum would do it, but she had been held up on something she called “investigative precautions”.      So there I sat, in the very uncomfortable wooden chair of the principal’s office, nervously swinging my legs.      Every so often the air conditioning unit would brush the papers of artwork on the wall with a rustling sound.      The wind outside howled up a ruckus, and I resisted the urge to howl back. Mama fiddled with the edge of her shirt that smelled of grease and metal. It was how I knew it was a Wednesday. Mama sighed and I pretended not to notice the pointed glare she shot at me.  

   Mrs. Hillywinkle seemed to have forgotten we were there.     Mama cleared her throat, and Mrs. Hillywinkle peered up over her half-moon glasses.     She put down the paper she seemed to think was so important and sighed. “Ms. James-Harriet.” 

   “It’s Mrs. James-Harriet, actually,” Mama said, frowning.      Mrs. Hillywinkle paused for a moment and narrowed her eyes at Mama. “Mrs. James-Harriet.”     Mama nodded.      Mrs. Hillywinkle paused again. Then, “I’m sure you know why you’re here.”     Mama shook her head. “I don’t.”     Mrs. Hillywinkle hesitated to give me a glance. “Your... Atticus here assaulted another student.” 

   Mama seemed to stop in surprise. She turned to look at me and for once I saw the brewing wild in her dark eyes. The moment quickly passed, and she turned back to Mrs. Hillywinkle. “He wouldn’t.” Her hands turned to fists around her trousers.      Mrs. Hillywinkle raised an eyebrow. “Well, he did. Tackled another student to the ground.”     Mama inhaled. “And what provoked this?”     “Nothing, the student says he was minding his own business and Atticus came out of nowhere and tackled him onto the ground—”     “That’s not true!” I snapped, rather out of the blue. 

   “Atticus,” Mama hissed.      I shook her off. “I was the one minding my business,” I corrected. “He came up to me and told me that I couldn’t grow big and strong because... because I don’t have a dad.” 

   Mama took a sharp breath.      Mrs. Hillywinkle raised an eyebrow. “And you tackled him to the ground?” 

   I nodded. “He deserved it.” 

   Mama sighed. “I’m so sorry, he’s not normally like this—” 

   Mrs. Hillywinkle held up a hand. “I’m sure. But we’re worried about his home life. Is there any reason you can think of that would cause him to react with violence?”     Mama was taken aback. I stiffened. Mama sighed. “No. We’ve never hit him or each other.”     Mrs. Hillywinkle scribbled something down.     I continued to swing my legs.   ~-~

I gripped mama’s hand tight as we began walking down the long dirt road to home.      She didn’t speak. I wished she did. She was like that sometimes, when she was angry with me.     She’d get all quiet and I wouldn’t speak either because if I did I was sure it wouldn’t end well.     I sighed.      She squeezed my hand. “I’m not angry at you.”     I nodded.     “I’m just frustrated. With that boy. And the world. Me and your mother have tried so hard to shield you from those who speak bad about us, but...” she trailed off with a sigh.     I nodded.      Her eyes seemed to glisten but not with tears, with something I couldn’t quite place. Her steps on the gravel seemed to be profound and strong. Her braids rocked with every step she took. I squeezed her hand.     She looked down at me and smiled.  

   I tried to smile back. 

   And that image of the snarling wolf appeared in front of my eyes again and I inhaled and stopped walking and my hand slipped from mama’s and I couldn’t shake the picture from my mind.      Mama turned and furrowed her eyebrows at me as I seethed, hands balled into fists.      It was like every part of me was alive, like every part I had ever pushed down had just somehow surfaced and was screaming rabid desires and I wanted to listen, but I didn’t know what they were saying, I just knew that they were loud and scary and feral and wild. 

   I wanted to listen to their screeching wild wants and needs but I couldn’t, I didn’t have the legs or the teeth or the speed or the nose or the right ears that I would need if I wanted to listen and obey and so I just stood there, on the dirt road with my mama in front of me, asking what was wrong.     And I wanted to growl and howl and screech at her just like those wild things were begging me to. 

   I met her gaze and she took a breath, like... like she was afraid of me and some part of me seemed to jump at the thought, seemed to gleefully cry out at the notion that I was scary that I was powerful that I was wild.  

   I seethed there on the dirt road, wanting to howl because those wild things begged me to, and those wild things were deep within the ground and the trees and they were in the air and I was them I was them and they were me. 

   “Atticus.”     The voice cut through like a knife and all at once everything stopped and I took a breath and I could see my mama again and she looked so worried. 

   I tried to breathe, I took long deep breaths as my mama’s hand was on my chest and she whispered to me softly about how it was okay and that I was going to be okay and whatever it was that was bothering me was gone now and I didn’t have to be afraid.  

   I breathed, long and low. The wild things stopped their screeching and the wild things weren’t in the trees and the wild things weren’t chasing me. 

   I was grounded and my mama was there with me.      “Atticus, are you okay?” Mama asked after a moment of just the wind in the leaves and my breathing.     I nodded.  

   And so, we carried on. To home. My feet were wobbling and my legs were shaking but I felt more alive than I ever had been.      Whole. 

   That’s what I felt. And Mrs. Hillywinkle couldn’t do anything about it because my mum would call her a word I wasn’t allowed to say.      I followed mama into the living room where the fireplace sat when we got home. She sat me down in the big armchair that was very squishy and kneeled in front of me.      She said, “Atticus, did that boy who you tackled say anything?”     I nodded. “Lots of things. He called you and mum a word that I don’t think he knew the meaning of.”     Mama tilted her head, braids rocking again. “And was that word?”     I hesitated. “I don’t know what it means either.”     Mama shifted closer. “I promise you right now, Ti-Ti, that if you repeat what he said I won’t be angry at you.”     There was silence. Even the trees seemed to be holding their breath. I stared at them through the large windows.      “Ti-Ti?” Mama asked.  

   I looked back at her. I hesitated. She blinked at me. I said, “he... he told me that I had faggots for parents.”     Mama’s eyes flashed. She hardened her gaze and muttered something under her breath.      “What does it mean?” I asked.      Mama sighed and looked at the floor. “It means someone who loves people who are the same gender as them. Like me, I’m a woman who loves another woman.”     I nodded. “I love you. And I love Oakley. What does that make me?”     Oakley was my best friend for ever and ever. We played together at school all the time and sometimes he would even howl at the trees with me. 

   Mama chuckled. “No, I don’t think it’s like that, Ti-Ti. The way that I love your mum is different to the way I love you. And I’m not sure you’ll experience that kind of love for a while yet.”       I nodded. “But what’s so bad about that word that Harlow said?”     Mama sighed. “It’s a word used to insult people like me. It shouldn’t be said by anybody, so I don’t want to hear you repeating it.”     I nodded again. “Okay.” 

   She turned back to me. “If he says it again, just tell me, alright? And I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you.”     “Okay,” I said again.  

   Her braids shifted again as she leaned back. “Ti-Ti,” she started. “Back on the road.”     There was silence as she tried to formulate her words. “What happened?”     I wished the silence would come back. I didn’t want to tell her about the wild things in my head who screamed at me. I really, really didn’t. It felt... wrong, somehow. Like if someone knew about the screeching, they would hate me. Or throw me out, or make me scared of them. Or maybe the wild things wouldn’t come back, or they’d be there for every second. And both of those possibilities scared me.  

   I didn’t like being scared. I stared at her, my mouth open like I was going to say something, but the words died on my tongue. 

   Mama leaned forward, eyes open and ready to listen. “It’s okay, whatever it was. You can tell me.”     I huffed. “I don’t know,” I lied. 

   Mama raised her eyebrow. “You’re lying.”     “I am not!” I said indignantly.      Mama laughed. “Yes, you are,” she teased, leaning forward. “You’re lying and I know you are because you chewed on your lip before you answered.” She extended her hands to me and began to tickle my sides. “You’re lying, Ti-Ti,” she said as I burst out with laughter.     She leaned to blow a raspberry on my forehead as I squirmed away from her tickles.      And I think she forgot about the time on the road, and I think I did too. I think the wild creatures in my head were gone and they didn’t dare come back and ruin my mama’s love. 

~-~

Mum got home late that night, and she looked like a mess. Like she’d “been dragged through a bush by her ankles,” as Mama put it when she took mum by her hand and kissed her cheek.  

   I rushed up to her to show her the drawing I’d done of a wolf howling at the moon. Mum took it from me and admired it for a moment. A long moment. I waited, brimming with anticipation.      She looked to me over the paper with wide eyes. “You drew this?”     I nodded enthusiastically.     Mum gasped. “Why, I never thought I’d be in the presence of such an artist!” She exclaimed. “Come look at this, don’t you think the linework is just astounding?” she asked Mama.     Mama smiled. “Very. We ought to hang it up.” 

   Mum nodded, proud. “Immediately!”     And so she did just that. It was the centerpiece of the fridge. 

   I stared at it for a long while. It seemed so grand. Like the most important place a thing could be was in the middle of the fridge.      We lit the fireplace and drew the curtains, and I had a cup of hot chocolate while Mama placed another log on the fire and mum laughed when mama accidentally dropped the wood onto the floor with a thud.      I smiled and turned to glance at the fridge again. My drawing of the wolf. And then Mum sat next to me and pulled me to her side and I was greeted with the comfortable smell of fireplace smoke and incense.       Mama made a remark about stealing all the cuddles and joined mum on the other side of me and suddenly it smelled of pine needles and the woodshed and I was very safe and that’s what it smelled of, it smelled of safety. 

   I was safe with them and they would protect me and I would protect them and my drawings would be hung in the centre of the fridge and I would have cups of hot chocolate even when I was supposed to be asleep. And when I did fall asleep in my parents’ arms, I would always wake up in my bed the next morning without fail.   ~-~

   I have vague memories of being carried to my room and the soft voice of Mama telling me goodnight, but that’s all. I don’t remember when I fell asleep.     I remember my dreams, though. I’ve always remembered my dreams, and I’m not sure why. I remember almost every dream I’ve ever had. Most of them are nonsense, as dreams often are. But this one... this one was different. It was filled with screeching and howling and wolves snarling in my face and then I was the wolf snarling in my face.      I was the scary, not the scared, and I liked it.     I was angry and loud and hunting and screaming and I was obeying the wild things in my mind that told me to hunt and howl. The wild things in my mind didn’t sleep, and some things never do, and I don’t think I could either.  

   I was wild and I was hunting and I was the wolf snarling in my face and I was the screeching things in my mind and I was howling not just at the trees but I was howling at everything that was and that has been.      I woke up screaming that there were wild things in my head trying to hunt me. 

[vavandeveresfan]

What "Magpie Murders" got wrong.

As much as I love Magpie Murders -- and I do! -- it has two really big flaws.

SPOILERS

The entire reason for the murder is Charles, the founder and owner of Cloverleaf Books, which publishes Alan Conway's Atticus Pund mysteries, is terrified that if the public learns the anagram from the detective's name they'll stop buying the books.

The anagram spells out A STUPID C*NT. Basically calling Pund that.

Now, in the world of this novel, Atticus Pund is as beloved and popular a fictional sleuth as Poirot, Miss Marple, and Sherlock Holmes. His is the bestselling mystery series around the world, and has been for almost 10 years.

If the media revealed that the author of a series that popular had insulted his beloved character like that, I can guarantee people wouldn't stop reading or buying the books.

If anything, the controversy, if there was one at all, would make people buy even more.

A mystery author resenting and hating his popular character so much he kills him off isn't new. Arthur Conan Doyle was so sick of Sherlock he killed him off. But, due to popular demand and the fact his other novels didn't sell well, Doyle brought him back. Most people who read mysteries know this.

Doyle didn't slur Sherlock when he killed him. But then, neither did Alan Conway in his last Atticus Pund novel. Atticus dies with his integrity intact. Conway doesn't write Pund as "a stupid c*nt" in the final novel. Quite the contrary, he's kind, patient, compassionate, and clever, and catches the murderer.

So the only thing that slurs Pund is the anagram derived from his name.

In no fucking way would this cause the public to turn on him. Turn on the author, sure. But then, it's apparently canon that "everyone who read about Atticus Pund loved him. Everyone who met Alan Conway hated him (paraphrasing)." Conway being an asshole was well known.

So Anthony Horotwitz based the novel's entire plot on behavior the public would not have, and a fear the murderer, Charles, shouldn't have had. Charles Clover was certain the discovery of the anagram would ruin his sale of his publishing company and the series' popularity. He was very wrong. If he'd not killed Conway he would have seen the drama of Conway's contempt for his detective would increase sales as people turned on him and embraced Pund.

When I watched the reveal of why Charles killed Conway -- I saw the series before I read the novel -- I was so fucking disappointed, and downright pissed.

[wandereralix]

My darling,

You will never be unloved by me.

You are too well tangled in my soul.

-Atticus

[chosetobethisway]

For the sake of continuing to love Atticus Finch, I have officially made Go Set A Watchman non-canon

[smolwormadventures]

“I was reading our human’s copy of their Welcome to Night Vale novel and I’m absolutely in love with this clipping.” -Atticus

[dreamdropcompanions]

there's worse coping skills out there,,,, so,,,, we gonna have a plushie collection

[radley-writes]

I have made you a soggy, morally grey scrunkly of a villain and I hope you all fight over people’s right to babify him

[aberooski]

writer emoji ask!! 🤭🎉🌞✨🥺

Oh boy, here we go!! Thanks for the ask, pal!! 😄

🤭 - I think my favorite tag would have to be Never let Chazz go into the woods alone akakak I mean it's my number 1 rule after all lol. Of course the running bit is that it happens all the time and it really never goes well for him now does it?

🌞 - Do I have a preferred time of the day to write? Not really, I just kinda write when the desire strikes. Could be the day, could be 3 am, who knows? But I am more of a night owl, my brain kinda wakes up when I'm supposed to be sleeping so I guess in that sense I do write more during the evening/nighttime than any other time of day.

🥺 - Oh boy I could write a novel about moments and interactions that put me in my feels you have no idea 😭

This question's gonna turn this answer into a novel I'm so sorry akskskak

I think if I had to narrow it down to maybe a few things I could probably say akaksk

As far as interactions go, like ones that happen a lot every single time Hassleberry specifically is protective of or exhibits concern for Syrus I get very emo. Like I added more of those moments to the SBH re-release because I loved the moments I'd done in newer fics so much. But the one specifically that always gets me is the moment in chapter 11 of OUAD where Hassleberry goes to check on Syrus after coming out of his berserked state.

Also the entirety of Salt In the Wound. Hassleberry being worried that just touching him will hurt him because he's so strong and Syrus trying to reach/call for Hassleberry to reassure him but he's too weak and hurt but then Hassleberry says fuck it and grabs Sy's hand while he's just lying there hurt in Jaden's arms 😭 and Hassleberry being upset seeing Sy's scar from the duplicate Camula bite a personal headcanon of mine a moment shared in the re-release of Sustained by Hate that I love

Of course all the copious amounts of moments like that between Jay and Sy make me fuckin cry but when those two have moments like that it hits DIFFERENT and like not even in a shippy way I don't view their relationship that way, they're just cute 😭

And really just SITW in general. Sy is my baby, he's my favorite character and I've never felt more that I was the same person as a character before. Zane needed social consequences for hurting him so deliberately and I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if I didn't defend Sy's honor. But also the fact that after all of that Syrus still loves his brother and calls out to him when he walks away despite everything just shatters my heart.

And speaking of moments between Jay and Sy I cry over them constantly but there's one moment in particular that kills me man.

There's this one specific moment in chapter 20 of Sons of The Stars where Jaden and the squad, with Axel's help, break into Viper's fortress and sneak into the dungeon to rescue Syrus, who was kidnapped by Axel in chapter 17. And when they get there and break open Sy's cell they have this moment:

It's the "They didn't hurt you, did they?" for me 😭😭😭

Oh yes and literally any Dad Crowler(tm) moment makes me cry. And I exclusively write Dad Crowler(tm) so I'm dead.

I'm almost done with this question bear with me a sec akskak

A moment I've done twice now in slightly different ways that makes me sob my eyes out is that I've given Chazz and Alexis a variation of this 7R Cloti moment in both SoTS and SBH

Of course for Chazz and Alexis the intent is purely platonic whereas I'm screaming and crying and foaming at the mouth because Cloti for life 😤 but tender, vulnerable moments between Chazz and Alexis kill me. I love seeing her caring for him because well, in the show their dynamic is......

But I've always loved the idea of them being close. They're platonic soulmates and she's his found family sister 😭

Also any and all moments where Alexis is protecting Atticus, I'm not okay. That is my favorite Alexis.

Also the entire scene with Chazz and Atticus in chapter 11 of SBH leading up to them holding hands that 😩😭

And real quick before I finally move on to the next question I'm so sorry the NUMBER ONE! Stormshipping moment that gets me all kinds of fucked up!

In OUAD. In chapter 5. We all know what I'm talking about.

🎉 - I honestly have had very unhealthy thoughts about what makes me consider a fic successful. I've felt at one time or another that every single thing I've done was a failure. That it was a flop and I wasted all this time and effort and brain power on ideas that no one but me gives a damn about. I attach so much of my own personal value to how many views and likes and comments my fics get, which isn't really a lot. So I get super bummed out all the time and it makes me not wanna write. But lately I've been trying to climb out of that hole and I've told myself this.

As chessey as it is to say, as long as one person finds enjoyment in something I do, then it wasn't a waste of time. If I find enjoyment in something I've created, it wasn't a waste of time. It was worth it. It was a success because I saw it through and I did it.

I still get bummed out when my stuff doesn't perform super well, well because I'm really excited about what I do and I want to share it with people and have people like my work. But I'm trying to be more optimistic about what constitutes success or not. Of course I still love comments and likes, they make my day and I get so few of them. But when I get sad I look back at the ones I have gotten and I remember that there are people who really do like my work besides me, and that makes me feel a lot better about it all. 😊

✨ - and finally, the hardest thing for me to do 😅

If I had to give myself a compliment for my work, I kinda have 2 I suppose. The first one is kinda a back-handed compliment but the second one is legit so it evens out I guess.

I legitimately think my ideas are good. My concepts for my plots and fics are great.

Camula coming back for revenge? Amazing. Stormshipping Sleeping Beauty adaptation? S+ tier. Whole ass fantasy au I built from the ground up?? Wow. Chazzerella??????? Inspired.

Crossover with GX and Fatal Frame 5???? And Stormshipping + Alexis Mario crossover??????? Literal galaxy brain.

And so on. But I also feel like my ideas are better than my ability to execute them. So I often feel like they're better in my head than how they actually turn out. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who has that problem with their work. And in that vein I also do the most approximately all of the time and it's kinda to my detriment. I could make writing so much easier on myself and not burn myself out every time I write a fic if I just allowed myself not to include every single tiny little thing. This is why I have such a hard time writing one shots and shorter fics akskksks

But okay, time for a legitimate compliment I guess 😅

I legitimately feel like when I write a character, I'm doing right by them. Like I feel like I do characterization really well, and every Fandom I've written for I've had at least 1 person tell me I wrote the characters really well.

I also think I write some pretty damn good dialog sometimes, and occasionally I'm actually funny or convey romance somewhat okay.

Like I'm good at writing villains. I really enjoy writing mean characters or just generally characters that speak more formally whether they're villains or not. I think that comes from my love of Final Fantasy 12 and how they like exclusively wax poetic in that game akskskka

I've still got a lot of areas I could improve on though, but I think I've at least nailed down a few 😅

[authorksc]

Writing Tools

November 19, 2023|Blogging

Some of us are lucky enough to land a publishing deal, or an agent. For those who are driven and brave can go with self-publishing. For me, as an indie publisher, I didn't have much problem formatting my first two novels. With my new novel, this has proven to be more than difficult. I started out in Office Libre, honestly because it is free, and basically a good program, but not for formatting a book I found out. So I went to Apple pages, same thing. So I went back to Word, which I used until they made it a subscription, which formatted better, but still not great. I am now researching actual formatting software, and thinking of purchasing Atticus. Here is the link to the list of choices I researched. What are your thoughts on the subject? KSCarson  https://selfpublishing.com/book-formatting-software/

[loserboyrobinwrites]

Chapter Three: Utter Bullshit

welcome welcome welcome this is the first draft of the third chapter of my novel!! it has NOT been edited. There WILL be mistakes. Apologies for the formatting, it's a little different on here than it is in word.

This chapter is approximately 4k words! Enjoy!

Atticus

After that day with the stag the wild things in my head became a part of my every day. I began to learn and grow with them, instead of resenting them for what they were. I didn’t make the world hold its breath and there were no more chilling sounds from deer. 

No birds, either. 

The wild things became a constant. Not an evil thing or an angry thing, just a thing that was and will be.  I still walked to school barefoot.  Oakley got a girlfriend. Her name was Summer. She was from the coast. Sandy hair, big smile, looked good in blues and whites.  She was nice enough. But I didn’t think she understood me. Or my... connection? I guess I could put it that way.    As for me, I knew early on that girls weren’t my thing. I hadn’t really paid much attention to boys, either, though maybe I should have. 

After I told Mama about the pigeon, she took me into the forest and made me lay my hands on everything that I was drawn to.  That way I was as wild as the things I knew. I was always covered in dirt and soil and the wild things were happy. At least I thought they were.  

I think I spent more time in the forest than anywhere else. Or, at least, within the reach of my house’s Wi-Fi. Because I still had assignments to do.   I liked being outside. I was so... intrinsically connected to the undergrowth and the trees and the chirping birds and the rustling leaves.  I was wild, I think. With wild things in my head. Mum always looked at me differently after I told her about the wild things, but not in a bad way. 

Mama never changed the way she looked at me. Even when I told her I was scared the wild things were going to take control. 

I think she’s the reason they didn’t.   She taught me to breathe and she taught me how to place my hand on my chest, just beneath my heart and feel their thrumming energy and to use it, rather than run from it. The wild things never hurt me and I never hurt anyone. Because it was bad manners. 

But there was no point at which the wild things were completely silent. 

Until him.    There wasn’t even anything special about him.     Suddenly I was seventeen and starting the new semester and he was there.    Sitting in my spot, right near the window.     His wispy black hair fell about his darker skin, the colour of wood just after it’s been stripped of its bark. Not dark, dark, but definitely not pale.  

He’d painted his nails black, and his jacket was leather. His fingers were full of silver rings, and I spotted a necklace peeking out from underneath his shirt.     That wasn’t what stopped me in my tracks, though. What stopped me in my tracks was the moment I looked at him the baying and howling of the wild things abruptly stopped.    For the first time, my mind was silent. Completely silent.    I must’ve been staring because he turned and looked at me.    His eyes were silver. 

Oakley crashed into me from behind.     I shook out my head and turned to look at his indignant face.  

“Dude,” Oakley huffed, fixing his hair.     “Sorry,” I mumbled, before quickly turning back to stare at him. 

Oakley scoffed.     He stared at me. I stared at him.   “Can I... help you?” he asked, and his voice was so deep, like sap dripping from a tree. He rested his face on his ringed fist.    I blinked. I felt my cheeks flush and I swallowed. “It’s just...well, I er—I just normally sit there, s’all.”     He raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to move?”  I kept staring. My throat locked up. His eyes were so.... trapping. I felt like I couldn’t move when he looked at me.   Oakley sighed rather pointedly from behind me.    I shook my head. “N—no, it’s okay, I can sit... somewhere... else...” I trailed off, taking him in. 

  He exhaled awkwardly. “I can move, it’s not a problem.”  I found myself unable to respond. The way he carried himself, the air about his face and the piercings in his ears just absolutely encapsulated me. I watched, becoming a stammering, stuttering mess until Oakley sighed.  “It’s fine, we’ll sit somewhere else.” He dragged me to the back of the room and sat me down at one of the corner desks.   I couldn’t stop staring at Him.     Oakley dumped his bag at my feet and leaned over, blocking my view of him.     I blinked, snapping out of a daze. Oakley had his hands on the table, resting on them as his hazel eyes met mine. He had an eyebrow raised, and the necklace of gold with Summer’s initials dangled below his neck.     “Dude,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “What the hell was that?”    I rolled my eyes and didn’t reply, staring at the small SN that was on his necklace.     Oakley poked my face. “Hey. Don’t fucking ignore me.”    I reluctantly drew my eyes to him. “What?"    Oakley raised his eyebrow further. “Don’t you ‘what’ me, you dingbat. What the hell just happened?”    I leaned back in my seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Oakley bit his lip. “Okay, we’re doing that game.”    I raised an eyebrow back at him.    Oakley frowned. “Alright, fine, play dumb. But what I just saw is you see a person from out of town for the first time in your life and you’re immediately head over heels for him. I don’t discriminate, Atticus, but god fucking damn it could you have been any more obvious?”    I flushed. “It’s not that—”    “It sure fucking looks like it is!” Oakley hissed.    I huffed. “Oakley, there are some things you don’t know about me.”    “Well yeah, obviously.”    I gave him a look.  

Oakley gave me a look back. “What are you getting at here? Is there another reason for this... this utter bullshit?” 

“Yes,” I hissed. “There is.” 

Oakley blinked. “And this absolute... this newcomer here, who doesn’t even know your name, stops you dead in your tracks and you become a flustered mess, knows something about you that I don’t?”    I hesitated. I peered around Oakley to have a look at the leather jacket.     “Hey, answer the fucking question,” Oakley snapped quietly, slapping my face gently.    I looked back at him. “W—well, I’m... I’m not sure if he knows it, but...” I trail off and sigh heavily. “It’s complicated.”    Oakley raised his eyebrow again. “Complicated,” he repeated slowly. 

“Yes,” I said. “Complicated.”    Oakley pursed his lips. “Complicated,” he said slowly again. 

I nodded. “Yes, Oakley. Complicated,” I insisted.     Oakley sighed. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But don’t think it’s not gonna bother me all fucking day.”    I looked at the floor. “I’ll tell you one day, Oakley.”    Oakley scoffed. “Poetic? At eight a.m.? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”    I laughed a little. “It seems so.”    Oakley sat himself down in the seat beside me.     I could see him now.     And the asshole who’d slid into the seat next to him.     A small, resounding cry of anger from a wild thing broke through, and I jumped in my seat a little.     Harlow was leaning across the desk, a coy smile on his face. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it wasn’t anything good. It never was with Harlow. I leaned in to see if I could make out some of the words.    “You’re brave, sitting there,” Harlow was saying.    He nodded. “Mhm,” he said, disinterested.     “The only person allowed to sit there is Atticus,” Harlow sneered.     “We’ve met,” he said calmly. “He’s sitting over there.” He gestured behind himself offhandedly.  

Harlow turned to look.     I waved.     Harlow snapped back to him. “So he is. He’s dangerous, you know,” he murmured.     He nodded but I could tell he wasn’t taking in any of the information.     “He tried to kill me when we were kids,” Harlow said.     “I most certainly did not,” I snapped, regretting it as soon as it happened.    Harlow scoffed. “You did.”    I shook my head. “I didn’t try to kill you. I was just... protecting my family.”    “Your little family of faggots,” Harlow jeered.    I nearly leapt out of my seat at that very moment, but Oakley grabbed my arm. 

“Atticus,” he warned. “Don’t.”     Harlow whistled. “Your boyfriend protecting you? Should’ve known, from a family like yours.”    Oakley’s hand tightened on my arm. “I’m dating Summer, you know that.” 

Harlow scoffed. “Like that means anything. Everybody knows you lot are cheaters and liars,” he said.    Oakley stood, fuming. I placed a hand on his arm, just like he had done me.     He sat back down.  

Harlow smirked.     He watched on. Very awkwardly.    I was about to speak up before Mr Reefrod placed his briefcase down on his desk loudly, breaking the tension and making Harlow sit back in his seat. 

Mr. Reefrod cleared his throat. “If you don’t stop talking right now I will shorten the deadline for your summative by a day for every second you keep talking.” He began to observe his watch. 

The chattering murmurs halted and the classroom fell silent.    Mr. Reefrod smiled. “Excellent. Now, as Harlow has so graciously discovered, we have a new student.”   The new one looked as if he wanted to die. I felt sympathetic.    “May you please introduce yourself?”    “My name is Callisto,” he said sharply and clearly.    Mr. Reefrod nodded. “Don’t annoy him, because he has the newcomer privilege and my full permission to pull that card if he thinks any of you are being... stupid.”    There was a slight nod.  “Now, if you’ll please, we’re going to start off our lesson with...”  I tuned out, staring at him. Callisto. Call-is-to. He looked nice. Really nice.   Oh, gods, what if he could read minds? That wouldn’t be too far-fetched. He managed to silence the wild things. He could probably, most definitely read my mind. What if he was like, special? Sent here on business? Working undercover as a student? What if he was there for me? What if his beautiful, gorgeous, dazzling, starry silver eyes were meant to stare down the barrel of a gun at me coldly? What if he was here to kill me?      Oh gods, what if he was actually a government spy?  What if this really pretty boy was my demise?  Oakley shoved me with his elbow. “Dude,” he whispered. “Stop fucking staring.”  “You stare at Summer,” I snapped back.   “Yes but that’s different! I know who she is! I love her! You barely know this guy’s name!” 

I rolled my eyes and continued to admire the way Callisto’s rings glimmered as he scratched things into a book with an ornate pen.   

  I softly paced the grass of the oval. Oakley had track tryouts, so I walked laps of the field. It wasn’t a bad thing. It was a regular thing, actually. Oakley liked track. But as much as he tried, I would not run for school. I liked running, but not for a prize.   Admittedly, I wasn’t about to win anything.    I rounded the corner, glancing over behind the science block and stopped dead in my tracks.     Callisto stood there, anxiously checking his phone. He looked up and saw me.     Time seemed to slow down.     His eyes were still silver, glistening brightly at me. He looked... handsome.  

I suddenly felt very aware of every imperfection in my clothes.     The wild things were completely shut out and I heard every shift he took while locked in a stance with me.     And then he beckoned me over.    I didn’t hesitate. I approached him carefully, like one would a baby deer.     The world didn’t seem to snap back to normal time, it was more of a gradual ascent into mundanity that caught me off guard.     Still, it was quiet at the back of the science block, and the sounds of an entire school let loose were muffled.    It was now that I realised Callisto was taller than me, and I had to tilt my head up slightly to meet his gaze.  

He seemed so much more... solid, up close. It took me by surprise. He checked his phone again.     “Hey, Atticus, right?” he asked.     I nodded. “That’s me.” 

Callisto looked me up and down. He looked behind himself, and then me. I regarded him quizzically.     “You good?”    He stared at me, as if in shock, before stammering, “Y—Yes. I’m fine.”    “Ooooh kay.” I rocked on my heels. “Anything you wanted to... tell me?”    Callisto looked at me. He checked his phone again. He seemed like a deer in headlights.  

I waited.     And then Callisto did something very, very unexpected. 

He put two hands on either side of my face—warm, almost feverish—and kissed me. Kissed me hard on the mouth. His lips were soft and warmer still than his hands. His hair fell in front of his face and met mine, tickling my eyelids—closed, when did that happen?  

He pulled me in, and I mean really pulled me in, and exhaled long and low.   I’d never been kissed like this before. I hadn’t even had a girlfriend. This was my first ever kiss, and it was with a boy whom I’d met that very same day.  

Mama was going to kill me.  His grip on my head weakened and he pulled away.  I stood there, arms by my side, in shock, mouth open and staring at the pair of silver eyes before me.   He muttered something that ended in ‘dangerous’ and then took hold of my face again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”   Before I could reply, he’d turned and bolted the other way, and I was left standing there, gingerly touching my lips and contemplating my life choices.  And even though Callisto was gone, the wild things were still quiet. 

“He fucking what!?” Oakley exclaimed, placing his hands on my shoulders. I shushed him.   “Oakley, be quiet,” I hissed.   Oakley looked at me like I was insane. We were sitting in a small forgotten about corner of a cafe—closed at that moment.   “First of all, there’s nobody here to eavesdrop,” Oakley said, “And secondly, what in the motherfuck did you just tell me?”  My shoulders hiked up to my ears sheepishly. “Callisto kissed me. And then apologised, and then ran off, and I haven’t seen him since.” 

Oakley spluttered. “I’m gonna find him, and I’m gonna beat the ever-loving shit out of him.”  “Ah, maybe don’t?” I tried.   “Absolutely not. That was your first kiss, and the asshole just stole it.” Oakley was fuming.  “Oakley, it was nice.”  Oakley paused.   “I liked it.”  He stared at me for a moment. “I mean, I knew you had it down for him, but seriously?”  I shrugged. “He’s a very pretty boy.”  Oakley sighed. “Scratch that, I’m gonna murder you instead.”  I breathed a laugh. And then my face fell. “Wait, what if he doesn’t come to class tomorrow?”  Oakley raised an eyebrow. “I’ll find him.”  The suspicions of Callisto’s real identity began to surface again.   What if that was a test? What if that was all just a fluke, to see how I’d react?  The wild things offered no consolation. They were still giving me the silent treatment.  “There’s something about him, though,” I started, voice more serious. “I think he’s keeping secrets.”  “Oh, really?” Oakley asked, and the sun beat down on him through the holes in the cafe umbrella. It illuminated his sarcasm. “Like you’re not keeping secrets.”  I scoffed. “That’s different.”  “Oh, but is it?” 

I sighed. “Oakley, it is very much different. He’s all mysterious and probably working for some secret organisation, and I’m some eldritch horror from before time!”  There was a pause. “I’m gonna pretend I know what those words mean.”  I sighed and rolled my eyes. “I should probably get going.”  “You’ve got real good news for your parents.”  “Shut up.”  I hugged him before walking away from him down the road, into the forest and onto the dirt path that guided my way home. 

I kicked the dirt.   “Come on, talk to me,” I told nobody in particular. I was standing on the edge of the dirt path, trying my very hardest not to screech at the wild things that’d gone silent.   I took a step onto the lush undergrowth, beyond the edge.     I breathed in deeply, the dappled light calming.  A squirrel darted across in front of me. I smiled at it.   I lowered myself to sit. And sit there I did, for a while, praying that the wild things would start up their clamouring howling and screeching. I sighed in dismay when they still wouldn’t let up.  And then I did something very embarrassing but necessary. I rolled over and faceplanted into the dirt.   And I listened. I felt the earth underneath me and I heard the thrum of the wilderness’ many, many heartbeats, and all of a sudden they were back, the wild things were back and screeching and howling and yelling and I smiled so wide and cried out in joy.  

I smiled so hard and wide and stood and ran and danced in the trees, laughing with the wilderness. I touched the trees and dipped my feet in the stream and I tasted the berries and I waved at the squirrels. I called back to the birds and I watched the fish.   And I breathed and I ran and I danced and I was alive and I was wild and it was oh the best thing. 

I leaned against a tree, out of breath, but still smiling so wide it hurt my face. And I slowly but not sadly walked back to where I’d placed my bag on the dirt road and walked back home. I knew Mama would be back from the shop by now if nothing had come up, and Mum would’ve already started on dinner. 

I carried my shoes in my hand and swung them as the trees welcomed me home.   Mama was just getting out of her car, still in her grease-streaked work shirt when I rounded the corner to the house.   She cocked her head at me. “Hey Ti-Ti, why’re you so late?” she asked, taking her big bag out of the trunk.   I smiled. “Oh, no reason, just got a bit distracted in the forest, is all,” I told her, truthfully.   Mama nodded and locked the car before coming up and hugging me. I was taller than she was now, and I laced her braids through my fingers and breathed deeply.   She pulled off. “You and your forest,” she smiled softly, adoringly. I smiled back. She hoisted her bag over her shoulder. “No mishaps today, then? No violent urges?” she asked teasingly.   I rolled my eyes. “You know they’re not like that.”  She grinned. “I do.” She turned and began walking to the house.  I rocked back on my feet. The birds seemed to be listening. “There was something odd, though.”  She turned.   I paused. I fiddled with my fingernails. “A new student was in our class today,” I said.   “Oh?”  

“Y—Yes,” I said, flushing as I remember what happened earlier. Mama noticed it immediately and raised her eyebrow. I laughed. “He’s, um, he’s nice.”  “Nice.”  “Yes, nice.” 

“You wanna tell me the other thing?” Mama asked incredulously. 

I smiled. I paused. I looked at the trees. I sighed. “And he’s really pretty.”  Mama gasped and giggled like a teenager. “Tell me everything,” she said, taking me by the hand and sitting me down on the steps to our house.  I laughed. “There’s not much to tell.”  She shook her head. “That is not true at all.”  I smiled. “His name is Callisto.” 

Mama nodded. “I approve.”  I covered my mouth with my hand as my cheeks flushed. “I think I like him.”  “You met him today.”    “That’s the thing.” 

“Do tell.”  I paused. My throat became thick and I found it hard to breathe. The wild things began to go absolutely feral. “He... well, I don’t know.” I sighed. 

Mama raised an eyebrow.  I pursed my lips. “You know about how the... the wild things in my head?” 

She nodded.  

“W—Well, when I look at him, they stop... yelling.” 

Mama’s eyes widened. “But they never stop.” 

“I know.”  Mama fell silent. She was thinking. She always did this thing with her eyebrows when she was thinking. It was good for me because I wasn’t good with a lot of expressions, but this one I knew and recognised immediately. “It’s only when you look at him?” She asked, hands on her trousers.  I paused and stammered. “Well, the strangest thing happened after he...” I trailed off. 

“What did he do?” Mama’s voice was stern, almost dangerous.   I became very red. “He... he um...”  “He didn’t.”  “He kissed me.”  Mama gasped. The wilderness seemed to smile. Mama’s face ranged from surprise to joy to disappointment to anger and finally to a thoughtful frown. 

I watched, unsure.   She smiled. “Did you kiss him back?”  I stammered. “It’s... um...” 

“Wait.” Mama’s face fell. “Did he ask?”    I shifted. “Was he... supposed to?”    Mama looked at me incredulously. “Yes!” 

“Oh.”  

Mama sighed.  

“I dunno... he seemed really anxious and kept checking his phone and then he uh.... he kissed me completely out of the blue,” I explained.   Mama folded her arms with a stern frown. “I need to give this boy a talking to. Everyone knows it’s not right to just—kiss someone like that!” 

I laughed. “It was nice.”  She sighed. “That’s great, Ti-Ti, but it’s not really... proper.”   I mimicked her sigh. “I would have kissed him back if it wasn’t for the... surprise?”  Mama nodded. “And then what?” 

“And then he ran off and I haven’t seen him since.”  Mama’s mouth dropped open. She was fuming. She spluttered incredulously, indignantly, before finally taking a breath and composing herself. “Nope. Nope nope nope nope.”   I tilted my head at her.  

“No?” 

Mama frowned, stood up and began to pace. “Nope. Not happening. This is not happening. Atticus, I’m actually about to explode.”  I laughed nervously.  

Mama went on. “I’m actually about to—” then she made a sound that wasn’t unlike an unhappy seagull. Then she stopped, turned, and looked at me. The trees rustled. “Atticus I don’t want you to have anything to do with this boy.”  I stared. 

“I don’t care how pretty he is, or how good of a kisser he is, but, I’m not letting you hang around someone who does that sort of thing,” she said sternly.   I continued to stare.  “And furthermore, he seems to be messing with your connection to the forest, and I don’t want you to lose that,” Mama said, gesturing vaguely to the trees. “So, I’m not going to let you be friends with him.”  Something growled in my head. I’m not sure what. But I nodded at mama, and said, “okay. I trust you.”  Mama exhaled. “Great. And if he even thinks about coming within a mile of this place I will have his head.”  I chuckled. “Yes ma’am.”  Mama nodded, evidently pleased with herself. “I’m going inside now.”  I nodded. “You do that.” 

Mama nodded once, twice, and then marched off behind me into the house.  I sat on the steps and sighed heavily.    The trees seemed to raise their eyebrows.     I watched the ants in the dirt.     I listened to the wind in the leaves. And I listened to the wild things and I smiled.