Grayson Wright
Change is...not my favorite thing, either.
Tue Aug 14, 2018 12:47

“Somewhat,” said Gray, shrugging a tad indifferently, on the subject of whether or not it had been productive as well as interesting. “I’m trying to get used to working in prose, there were some false starts.”

If anyone had no real grounds for judging him for that, he thought, it would be the librarian. People who had nothing better to do than write were a librarian’s whole business. Without the Grays of the world, there would be no need for the Tarquins – at least in his present job. Gray had the impression that most people didn’t have bouts of near-compulsive need to do their jobs, which made it easier for them to seek out and obtain other ones in the event their main jobs became redundant. Or at least he thought this was the case. He’d gathered that some researchers were also fairly compulsive, but didn’t know much about that.

“Collective nouns – I occasionally thought it was going to be a murder of poets, but then – well, you get your epic poets and your lyric poets and your dramatic poets and your modern poets and they all hate each other,” he summed up. “Of course, drama, you work directly together, so a melodrama of dramatists is probably accurate.” He realized he had just given up the game. “I’m – er – a – semi-failed – “ he couldn’t quite bring himself to just say ‘failed’ by itself, though it would be simpler to do so – “dramatist, I guess you could say,” he admitted awkwardly. Not that the dramatists proper seemed to see it that way. “But in prose, you mostly lurk alone and only see other people when you hand stuff out for feedback. Not really pack animals, proseists.”

Gothic literature was not a subject Gray knew much about; neither did the title of something else ring much of a bell for him. He thought Gothic novels were the ones where Muggles wrote about vampires acting vaguely like vampires and ghosts acting nothing like ghosts and it was all about the Muggles wanting to have sex with the vampires, or the ghosts, or each other, or something – he couldn’t say he found vampires, ghosts, or sex interesting as subjects for reading, really, though he had read a rather amusing little tale over the summer about someone being sent a letter sealed as ‘from a ghost’ which had been part of a mystery. A rather brilliant half-blood child had written it, trying to weave together traditions in a surprisingly sophisticated way for a child of thirteen at the time; she and several of her siblings had later been published. One of the other authors at the retreat had informed him that his stuff, however, was unreadable because of the lack of genitals involved; Gray had replied that he found the other fellow’s exceedingly tedious due to the number of them in his stuff, and there had nearly been a brawl.

“Impressive,” he said when Tarquin mentioned a daughter working on a Ph.D. and hoping to submit this year. “What’s she studying?”

  • I fear change. And sexy vampires.Tarquin Fox-Reynolds, Sun Aug 12 05:36
    “Oh, very much so. Thank you,” Tarquin smiled. He was not given to overly animated facial expressions but he did both look and sound very genuinely pleased and excited at the fact that not only had... more
    • Change is...not my favorite thing, either. — Grayson Wright, Tue Aug 14 12:47
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