#but only now actually reread the essay

[theodoradove]

"All this part of the business was the commonplace mechanics of the detective-novelist’s job. The new and exciting thing was to bring the love-problem into line with the detective-problem, so that the same key should unlock both at once. I had Harriet, feeling herself for the first time on equal ground with Peter, seeing in the attractions of the intellectual life a means of freeing herself from the emotional obsession he produced in her, and yet seeing (as she supposed) that the celibate intellectual life rendered one liable to insanity in its ugliest form. I had Peter, seeing the truth from the start and perfectly conscious that he had only to leave her under her misapprehension to establish his emotional ascendancy over her. The temptation to take advantage of her mistake had to present itself to him in some form or other. That he should consider abandoning the investigation and leaving the upshot in doubt was too crude. It would be enough if, while she was still hesitating, he was tempted to use his physical charm to precipitate an emotional surrender from which there could be no subsequent return. I presented him with three opportunities for betrayal: once when Harriet exposes her own weakness in a sentimental moment on the river; again, when in the Botanical Gardens he warns her against letting emotions interfere with judgment; and finally, when she throws herself into his arms under the shock of finding the mischief-maker’s malice turned against herself. In the meantime, I had made Harriet’s surrender easier by letting her see Peter's weaknesses instead of (as hitherto) his strength: his jealous irritation at the misdeeds of a prodigal nephew; his personal vanities, his carefully concealed sentimentalities, his resentment of his own small stature and its compensating outbursts of childish exhibitionism; the mere helplessness of physical fatigue and so forth; and had further enhanced his attractions by making somebody else fall in love with him. I had also, to my great delight, succeeded in working into the book my original idea of a proposal from another man, in the imbecile episode where Mr. Pomfret avows his undergraduate passion in the grim presence of the Proctor. Thus, the train was laid for the overthrow of Harriet’s defenses if Peter chose to fire it.

"This was where the theme of intellectual integrity came in. Peter's honesty of mind had to tell him that if Harriet accepted him under any sort of misapprehension, or through any insincerity on his part, they would be plunged into a situation even more false and intolerable than that from which they started. She must come to him as a free agent, if she came at all, and must realize that she was independent of him before she could bring him her dependence as a willing gift. At all costs, and even at the risk of losing her altogether, he must prevent her from committing the greatest treason: 

To do the right deed for the wrong reason, 

and (through the machinery of the detective plot) show her the final baseness of which love was capable before he could asks her to risk the adventure with him."

The essay “Gaudy Night” by Dorothy L. Sayers, discussing the hows and whys of her writing of the novel. First published (in a longer version) in Titles to Fame (1937), edited by Denys Kilham Roberts, in which several authors reflect on their most well-known work.

I could not marry Peter off to the young woman he had (in the conventional Perseus manner) rescued from death and infamy, because I could find no form of words in which she could accept him without loss of self-respect. I had landed my two chief puppets in a situation where, according to all the conventional rules of detective fiction, they should have had nothing to do but fall into one another’s arms; but they would not do it, and that for a very good reason. When I looked at the situation I saw that it was in every respect  false and degrading; and the puppets had somehow got just so much flesh and blood in them that I could not force them to accept it without shocking myself. So there were only two things to do: one was to leave the thing there, with the problem unresolved; the other, far more delicate and dangerous, was to take Peter away and perform a major operation on him. If the story was to go on, Peter had got to become a complete human being, with a past and a future, with a consistent family and social history, with a complicated psychology and even the rudiments of a religious outlook. And all this would have to be squared somehow or other with such random attributes as I had bestowed upon him over a series of years in accordance with the requirements of various detective plots.

Thanks, smokeandsong, for sharing this!

Bonus: the first page of a typescript of the essay (from the Dorothy L. Sayers Papers at the Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas at Austin):

[il3x]

Any idea how more power solves the problem of being a good person?

With more POWER, you can protect your teammates. With more POWER, you can defeat the Aberrant criminals who kill and extort and farm children for Rapture. With more POWER, you can avenge Jaeil. With the right kind of POWER, you could reform the Aberrant Corps from a killer, his killer, into a true hand of justice. You could impose Goodness across the entire world. With enough POWER, you wouldn't even need violence to do it.

And on the smaller scale... POWER can erase your mistakes. Good? You could be perfect.

[figofswords]

anybody remember the stephanie brown essay I was working on under a research grant fully last summer? yeah it’s not done yet it super needs to be done and I’ve been avoiding working on it for weeks. someone tell me to just do it already

[simpingsavant]

Late Night

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3

Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.

Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.

The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.

“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.

The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.

You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.

Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.

You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.

Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.

From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being. 

Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips. 

Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.

For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?

Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.

In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.

So far, you only got:

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’s your night going?”

“Good, and you?”

“Fine. Do you want a bag?”

“No, I have my backpack.”

“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”

Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.

“Have a good one.”

“You too.”

His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.

During your third month, that reason finally came.

He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”

“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.

“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.

“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.

“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”

“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”

“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.

“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.

He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”

“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.

Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.

“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.

“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”

He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.

“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”

“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.

You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.

You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.

“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”

“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”

You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.

“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”

“What’s at five?”

“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”

“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”

“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.

~~

Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.

The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.

You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.

Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.

“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.

“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”

“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”

“Yeah?”

“Interesting.”

The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”

Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”

“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.

“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”

“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”

“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”

“Don’t say that stuff.”

“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”

You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?

“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.

“Yes, actually—”

You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.

Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?

After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.

~~

“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.

The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.

“I finally finished with inventory.”

He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.

12:56

“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?” 

“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”

“For sure. See you tomorrow.”

“Later,” Michael says.

He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.

You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.

You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.

You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.

This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.

His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.

“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.

“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.

“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”

“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”

“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”

“Is this your final year?”

“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”

There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.

You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.

“Are you still working here over the summer?”

“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.

God, you wanted him so bad.

“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”

“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”

His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.

“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.

“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”

With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.

The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.

“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.

“Oh, right.”

Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.

“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.

“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”

You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.” 

Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.

You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.

They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.

“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”

“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.

“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”

“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.

“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”

“Damn, sounds like an ass.”

“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”

“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.

The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.

“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”

“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.

Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.

He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.

~~

When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.

“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.

Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.

“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.

“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.

“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.

God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.

“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.

After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.

As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?

“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.

“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”

“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”

“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.

“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”

“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”

You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.

“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.

You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.

“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.

You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.

You can deal with this on your own just fine.

The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.

“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.

“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”

You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”

“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.

You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”

“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”

You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.

“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”

Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.

Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.

“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.

With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.

“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”

The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.

“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.

“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”

“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”

“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”

“I was staying safe,” You defend.

“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”

“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.

“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”

“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.

“What?”

“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.

“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.

His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.

“How often does this happen?”

“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”

Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”

“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”

Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.

“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.

2:21

“Damn, that’s a long time.”

“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”

When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.

“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”

“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”

“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.

The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.

“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”

“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.

You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.

“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”

“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.

“Your pick, I guess."

You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.

“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.

“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.

When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about. 

“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.

“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”

“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”

“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”

A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”

Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”

“What?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.

“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”

Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”

“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”

The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”

“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”

You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.

“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.

“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”

“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”

“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”

Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.

“I’m honored.”

“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”

“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”

You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”

“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”

“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”

Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”

You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.

“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.

“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.

“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”

“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”

“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”

“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”

“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”

“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”

“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”

[northwindow]

reading on reading

a literary syllabus [x]

how to read now by elaine castillo

a collection of essays by novelist and essayist elaine castillo about the politics and ethics of reading. castillo exposes the inherently colonial premises behind not only the works of many individual writers; but the way reading cultures analyze and canonize works, the tokenizing nature of the publishing industry that fails writers and readers of color, and the unfulfilled promises by bibliophiles and literary institutions to "build empathy" through reading diverse books.

"time in the codex" and "lastingness" by lisa robertson

two essays by poet lisa robertson from her prose collection nilling, both meditations on reading. “time in the codex” is an ode to the sensory and cognitive processes that reading evokes. “lastingness” explores the relationship between passivity and will when it comes to receiving the stories and ideas we read, using the work of hannah arendt to analyze texts by lucretius and pauline réage. 

a history of reading by alberto manguel

alberto manguel (former director of argentina's national library) compiles a history of reading that encompasses the prehistory of books in ancient mesopotamia, the story of the library of alexandria and its influence in libraries that followed, literary societies such as the heian court, book thieves throughout time, book banning in multiple cultures, and the progression of text formats around the world from clay tablets to modern bookbinding.

selections from not to read by alejandro zambra (trans. megan mcdowell)

essays taken from the collection not to read by chilean writer alejandro zambra about the practice of reading, his own evolving reading life, and writing books; mixed with a variety of literary criticism. selections include "in praise of the photocopy," "against poets," "obligatory readings," "traveling with books," and "novels-- forget it."

"how do we read?", "the reading ape", and "inventing reading" by stanislas dahaene

three chapters from cognitive neuroscientist stainslas dahaene's book reading in the brain. "how do we read?" functionally breaks down how our brain understands written words. "the reading ape" imagines how our ability to read evolved by recycling preexisting neural circuits. "inventing reading" explores how languages themselves have formed over time to serve the way we think.

"when robots read books" by inderjeet mani

essay by computational linguist inderjeet mani on ways that artificial intelligence could enhance literary criticism by analyzing classic texts, particularly cumulative corpuses of works. examples of literary AI usage include finding similar character traits, archetypes, and tropes between different books and authors; quantitatively tracking literary trends; and generating timelines and maps of information pulled from narratives. 

"uncritical reading" by michael warner

essay by english professor michael warner which attempts to define what "critical reading" actually is, the beginnings of a history of that practice, its alignment with agency and morality in academic culture, and what the qualities of "uncritical reading" (such as “identification, self-forgetfulness, reverie, sentimentality, enthusiasm, literalism, aversion, distraction") might offer us.

"someone reading a book is a sign of order in the world" by mary ruefle

essay adapted from a lecture in poet mary ruefle’s madness, rack, and honey that traces a reader's development through personal experiences in her own reading life. topics include rereading, what it means to read “the right book at the right time”, and the pleasure of finding imaginative connections between books. 

[thankskenpenders]

When you decide to get back to covering the comics after any break, do you make an effort to recap the events of the series to the current point? And if so, by what means? Do you ever review the 'sparknotes' via your own blog or do you always flip through the comics themselves? Is it the kind of thing where you only actively look back after you come across those little editors notes that point back to prior issues?

Anytime I come back from a long hiatus, like the one I'm on now, I tend to reread the whole archive of the blog as a refresher, yeah. Archie Sonic is way too continuity-driven, especially in the Flynn era, for me to go in with hazy memories of what was going on. I can't comment on how ongoing arcs are handled if I only vaguely remember what had been set up before my hiatus

As I've gotten further into the series, though, this has become more of an undertaking, which is the main reason why this hiatus that started because I needed to finish SLARPG is still ongoing a year and a half after the game released. At this point I think I'd also like to reread all of the old Archie comics on top of rereading my archive. I wouldn't go back and cover every single issue again, but like, I wrote much of this blog in my early 20s, and now I'm 30. I engage with things differently now. I have different opinions on some things. There's a difference between going back and rereading the actual comics for myself, vs. just rereading what I said about them on here when I was 20. (I especially feel the need to do this for due diligence before I really get to work on that Penders video essay, which I swear is still happening.)

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Back on my analysis nonsense but not quite awake enough to write a full essay right now so please enjoy this snippet of analysis about Inej, language, and the word “girl”. It’s all stuff I’ve talked about before but I haven’t given it’s own post before and I’ve been rereading some of my old stuff to get back in the mindset so I thought I’d bring this back up because I find it really interesting - I’m also really hoping to write the post about Fruszi that I’ve been planning on doing for basically since season 2 came out tomorrow or at least very soon so hopefully that won’t be too long

Inej Ghafa, Language, and the Word “Girl”

⚠️As always in my analyses, constant spoilers ahead!! 🖤

⚠️I’m going to talk about Inej’s trauma and her ptsd, and this post will also possibly include references to the other characters’ trauma and ptsd as well

Hi okay it’s been a while since we did this and I realise it’s probably the reason most of you follow me so sorry about that but let’s jump right in - I often say it’s after midnight and I’m thinking about Soc so let’s talk but today I actually have to say it’s almost midnight and I’m thinking about Six of Crows, so let’s talk: Inej’s internalised misunderstanding of the Kerch word for “girl”.

In the Bathroom Scene during Crooked Kingdom (which I have a full analysis posted of if anyone would like to read it; I can tag you or you can follow the link in my pinned post), we see Inej at the point she allows herself to be most vulnerable with another character. I think we forget this because we know much more about it than they do, but the other Crows know very little about what Inej went through at the Menagerie - Kaz himself in that very scene describes having “the barest inkling of what she’d endured there” - and previously when we’ve learnt anything about her experiences they have mostly been through flashbacks that Inej experienced during other events of the book. On the boat to Fjerda, in the surgeon’s cabin with Nina, Inej battles with flashbacks and insists Nina sing to her and teach her the chorus of the song to try and distract herself - Nina of course knows that something is going on, but only the reader is actually told what’s happening in Inej’s head - and when she has a flashback at Sweet Reef (the man who smelled of vanilla) she’s alone until Dunyasha arrives. This scene with Kaz is really the only time we see her express herself and, as openly as she can, attempt to speak about some extent of what she went through out loud. I’ve dissected a lot of what she says in this scene in the past and formed theories about it before, but I haven’t talked as much about this quote:

“Tante Heleen wasn’t always cruel”

After this introduction she goes on to explain the emotional abuse and manipulation that Heleen put her through, going so far as to specify that because endearment became something akin to danger she flinched the first time Nina hugged her, and she also mentions in the scene that sometimes when Jesper puts his arm around her she feels like she’s going to vanish. This particular description of Heleen has very strong parallels to descriptions of Van Eck’s abuse of Wylan, and though I don’t want to go into that in too much detail now bc I’ve talked about it before and how their parallels are what create a lot of the Wylan/Inej parallels I do think that it’s a relevant thing to mention as I bridge into the next quote I want to bring up; when Van Eck takes Inej captive and is claiming that he has treated her like this because this is what he know her to expect from her life experiences, she internally comments that he sounds like Heleen and we get a memory of this quote:

“Why do you make me do these things? You bring these punishments on yourself, girl”.

This obviously had very strong links to the way Van Eck abuses Wylan and teaches him to actively blame himself, which I’ve talked about in the last, but I also want to add that it’s so interesting when we see Heleen call Inej “girl” because she very rarely uses terms that don’t actively dehumanise her/any of the other children at the Menagerie. Of course the use of the epithet is still a big part of the way Inej was denied identity at the Menagerie, remember she audibly sobbed when Kaz said her real name out loud the night she left, but it doesn’t necessarily hold the same immediate, discomforting effect that other epithets Heleen uses, such as “little Lynx” (actively diminishing and dehumanising Inej whilst using an oxymoronic phrase to effectively imply that she is a tamed animal and even though she should be able to fight free she never will. As a side note linked to this, the word “little” is often used derogatorily towards Inej, most obviously by Heleen and Van Eck and most notably when she breaks his nose and he shouts “you little wretch! You little whore!” and she replies “go on Van Eck, tell me all the little things I am”). But I would actually argue that when Heleen uses the word “girl”, she intends it with all the same dehumanisation as she does “Lynx”.

Throughout Inej’s experiences in the duology, the word “girl” is used almost exclusively in two ways: 1) as an insult, 2) possessively. Whenever the children at the Menagerie are referred to as “girls” it is always in a possessive context, for example these quotes are the Ice Court Heist when Inej is wearing the Lynx silks:

“… in front of her girls”

“Your girl will be returned to you”

“Where is my girl?”

“That is not my girl”

And this is an ongoing theme throughout the books. However, the idea is most obviously presented in a quote by Inej herself, and this is where it quite truly breaks my heart:

“not really people, not even really girls.”

Okay I'm really tired and this post is already longer than I was planning so from this point forth everything in the quotation marks is directly taken from another post where I talked more briefly about this:

' As if “girls” and “people” are two separate entities. As if “girls” are not human. This is the language and the attitude that she was surrounded by at the Menagerie and is still surrounded by in the city, and what was forced upon her throughout her experiences in the country. But you know what else might be a genuinely horrifying little detail of this????? Inej may have actually taught herself that the words “people” and “girls” are not synonymous. Because when Inej was brought to Kerch she wasn’t fluent in the language, she spoke some of it and quickly learnt the rest through circumstance, so if this was the way she heard Kerch people use the word “girl” this is how she would internalise the definition of it. I hope this makes sense I’m not sure if I’m relating my thoughts very clearly, it’s kind of like how Matthias was forced to learn Kerch because he was in a Kerch prison so he doesn’t know words that would easily come to him in Fjerdan, like the snow goggles, but instead of simply having gaps Inej has actually learnt a false grammar system that defines “girl” as a dehumanising term because it means someone who is less than or someone who is property. '

I feel like I might have had something to add but if I did then I have forgotten it; if it return to me in the morning then I will return to add it but for now I am going to bid you all goodnight. Thank you for reading these mad ramblings and I hope they made some semblance of sense and/or were interesting <33

⚠️This is a theory and this is my personal literary interpretation; I am not saying that this is an intentional choice made by Leigh Bardugo, though it may be I have no idea, and I am not saying that you have to agree with me. Literary analysis is not about presenting one definitive answer, and if you have either differing interpretations or further points you’d like to add then please do as I would love to read them! <3

[sarascamander]

Reading the cursed child (scorbus, norvelize version in a03). I read the script years ago when I was 11 (funfact it was the first harry potter book I've ever bought). So I'm rereading it again because I have a scorbus brainrot suddenly (11 y/o me shipped Scorpius and Rose so hard but now I grew up let just say my taste had change lmao).

List of thought gonna go longer as I read:

- yo Albus surly personality is basically me when I was 15 it was like looking into a mirror. Hold on there baby I understand you 😭

- I want to write a whole essay on Albus and Harry's relationship. They both are so precious but they just have a hard time with each other.

- Scorpius is the sunshine most sunshine cinnamon role ever. I would kill for him. I would die for him.

- ALL THOSE BULLY BETTER STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY OUTCASTS BABIES.

- “And be my good friend.” what if I die.

- why do people love to torture the cinnamon roll??? I want to hug Scorpio so bad like baby you deserve the moon and the sky and the world. And the fact that he's still trying to be so cheerful and optimistic. THE WORLD DOESN'T DESERVE HIM.

- Albus and Harry's father and son angst is killing me but it is also so delicious I relish in it (it's just so complicated I love it).

- "you’re kind, Scorpius. From the depths of your belly, to the tips of your fingers." Is the sweetest thing I've ever heard anyone said. I love this quote so much I want it tattooed on my forehead.

- Again, Scorpius deserve the fucking world.

- Scorpius and Draco's relationship is SO GOOD, SO PURE, SO SOFT. They love each other so much 😭

- brb I'm going to cry at the fact that Dark AU Ron and Hermione die in such a terrible way a few minutes after they finally confess their feelings (they were scared). 😭😭😭😭😭😭

- Snape is so dramatic. Girl "you're giving up your kingdom for Albus... All it takes is one person." he made it sound like they're in a romance fantasy novel (they are).

- Head empty. Scorpius happiest memory with Albus is strong enough for him to produce a patronus.

- Scorpius is once, again, a cutie pie that deserves everything.

- Delphi is more manipulative than I realized when I first read this lmao.

- GIRL the way Albus said that he and Scorpius ran away to start a new life in the muggle world as an excuse — what do you mean you're eloping at 14??? (Out of chronological order but I just remembered this)

- Delphi when I catch you —

- Never thought I'd be rooting for Draco and Harry duo yet here we are (did I say I love Draco as a dad?? I don't think he's appreciated enough. He's a brilliant dad! THIS is his best redemption arc).

- "What did you say to our son, Harry?" GO OFF QUEEN (Albus is a confirmed mommy boy)

- RON WANT TO MARRY HERMIONE AGAIN. I don't quite ship them in the book/movie but they're just the sweetest in here 😩😩

- I just had the sudden realisation that Scorbus might be the only couple that I ship in hp that is so close to canon (and was canonised by some play if I heard correctly).

- that time where they were in godric hollow and Scorpius was surprised that Albus never knew the full story of his grandparents or visited the place just bc he was being a petty, moody uninterested teenager hit so hard (he is me and I am him). And the shame he felt was real too. I always regret those years in my life where I acted like that and I don't even have a daddy issue like Al did, what's my bloody excuse lmao (I blame fucking hormones) 😩😭

- okay so finished it!! When I was a kid I don't quite like the time travel thingy and find it very confusing but I think it's because it's a screenplay yk, and it was meant to be watched not read. But the novel version did help a lot (and I give the author my hundreds of gratitude, her writing is absolutely beautiful! And she captured the characters perfectly! If you're scared to read The Cursed Child, read her novel version in ao3!!!).

I'm surprised that I actually love the plot more than I thought I would. Yeah it can get a bit unrealistic at times but all in all it's very entertaining and Albus and Scorpius are very well written, very rounded and nuanced characters that carry the book. I'm glad their parents didn't overshadow their personality etc (like them being mini-copies of Harry and Draco). They're their own person and I love that about them!!

They're not Drarry or even Jegulus as I've seen people say, they're in their own league. There are no enemies or hatred or tension between them; Scorpius and Albus genuinely like each other so much from the first they laid their eyes on each other and I adore them for it.

I read a theory that Albus was sent in Slytherin because he subconsciously wanted to be in a house with this kind boy met on the train and it made me want to cry (they were made for each other). (Although I do think Albus have many Slytherin traits, Scorpius I was less sure he screamed Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw to me but admittedly he can be cunning to).

So yeah, I don't think it's that bad as everyone said (and my 11 y/o self). It's fun and I actually cried a lot at the end of it (I have to watch Jily die, do you have any idea what that did to me???) (I don't even ship them but i swear this book set me to default back to canon).

I really want to watch the play, would die for it but it's impossible and I can only dream.xoxo

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for editing my sister’s college essay?

[☀️🛟🎓 to find it later]

I (22f) have a younger sister (17f) applying to college this fall. Her english class recently gave an assignment that was essentially “write your common app”. For context, I am known for editing college application essays, I have done so for several family friends, and I don’t pull punches. As such, I asked if I could help edit her essay, and she agreed.

It was a great essay!! I helped her out with some smaller grammatical things and to tighten up sentences, and she submitted the class assignment.

Here’s where I may be the asshole. Later that night I kept rereading the essay, and I noticed a few issues in the middle portion. I wound up heavily editing the essay on my own document to make the emotions came across clearer and to tie in some key metaphors.

The next day, I wound up asking if I should share this document with her, and she ended up agreeing. I tried to give her an out because I could tell she was a bit annoyed, but she insisted that I share it now that I brought it up. Immediately after I shared it she called me crying, saying that she felt as though I had steamrolled over her work. She was sad because she liked it, and angry that I butted in. To be frank, I did inject too much of my own voice into this rewritten essay.

My sister has admitted to feeling very pressured when compared to me, as I achieved a lot academically and have a steady career. My parents and I have tried to reassure her that she is not expected to emulate me, but no matter how many times we say it, she won’t internalize that I am NOT a bar she needs to measure up to. She doesn’t seem to realize that I struggled and failed so many times in so many ways b/c she didn’t actually see it; she was too young at the time.

I want her to grow beyond what I could achieve, and I want her to be confident in herself. She’s incredibly smart, but she thinks I’m smarter because we have different strengths and she devalues her own.

I feel guilty because it was not my intention to “lord over her” by writing her essay “better”; our writing styles are different, but her essay came across as dry and I wanted to give an example of how she could inject more emotion into the turning point, which is arguably the most important part of a college essay. However, I fear she took it badly, and I should have been more careful given how she views me.

I really don’t want her to make the same mistakes I did with my college applications, and I know that getting into college has become incredibly difficult post-pandemic. Objectively, some of her test scores are below where mine were, and her extracurriculars, while good, are slightly “less” than what her peers are doing (our high school is extremely competitive) so I want to ensure her essays are as polished and punchy as possible to give her the best shot at getting into the colleges she wants. We’re not hiring any college application tutors, so I’m the only major mentor she has for this, since our parents did not attend college in the US.

My sister and I def talked it out and we both apologized to each other, so we’re all good. I admitted to being too pushy, she admitted to not handling criticism well and putting me on a pedestal, and we both agreed to handle essay help differently in the future.

AITA here? On the one hand, I was harsh in my delivery and should have given her more opportunity to edit using her voice instead of forcibly tossing mine into the mix. One the other hand, college apps are getting tougher and tougher and she needs as much help as she can get (not a dig at her intelligence, everyone needs help these days). Though sis and I worked it out, I’m curious to know what the general opinion is.

[onehundredandeleventropicalfish]

so i keep referencing the What Broke Delirium essay i plan to write but never actually writing it, so let's dig into that one!

because. sandman does not spoonfeed information. neil gaiman even said this in regards to the tv show, most shows are written these days under the assumption that audiences aren't really paying attention and need things spelled out for them - but sandman is not one of those shows. you gotta notice everything to get the full story

which honestly i love in many ways because it's part of why i'm never gonna run out of sandman essays to write - every time i reread the comics or rewatch the show i catch something new

and this is one of the first hidden bits of info i caught - remember this spread from overture?

it's a fucking gorgeous page and one of my favourite in the entire sandman run, both for the pretty art and the content itself (i love delirium SO much)

but let's just zoom in on the center of those flowers for a sec

because there's tiny tiny text written inside them

(for anyone who can't parse that, the first says "delight was sad", the second says "delight went mad")

now i've mentioned in many of my posts before that the endless all struggle to experience their own aspect, they are that thing, it exists for the most part out of their reach, and that causes problems for all of them

but i usually leave delirium out of these explanations

and that's because, for whatever reason, delirium is the opposite. and delight was too. i don't know what it is that makes her different, but while her older siblings all seem to be barred from their own domain by nature (or have to go to great lengths to experience it), del is too much of it. she's utterly absorbed by it. and while i think she's learned over the centuries how to be a bit more flexible (she understands the coins have two sides thing better than any of them, and can be lucid when she needs to), she didn't start out that way

we don't know what it is exactly that broke her. but we know why.

she had spent all of her life as the personification of happiness and joy, and someone who embodied those emotions. she appeared most as a little kid as delight, because kids definitely find it a lot easier to stay in that perpetually excited, happy mindset

but nothing stays that way forever. and this is where she is like her siblings, and why she's so familiar with the coin metaphor - when you're missing a fundamental piece of being human (either by being barred from your aspect or by being absorbed by it), that's not sustainable. it will tear you apart. dream refuses to accept that this is the case, and that breaks him. desire is equally stubborn about it, and they've outright admitted (in narration) that they're hanging on by a fucking thread

but death figured it out, when she realised she couldn't fulfill her function properly without learning what it was like to live. destruction figured it out when he ran away to go create. and delirium figured it out the hard way, because as soon as the world got a little too big for her singular aspect to make sense, it shattered

and it shattered slowly

there may have been some form of inciting incident, but she didn't become delirium overnight. i think a lot about her describing it as "growing up, or at least growing older", because that's both a very mature way to look at it and also an extremely tragic way to look at it, the idea that she knows too much, is never going to see the world the same way again, and that means delight is never coming back

(and that realisation is when she stopped presenting as a child and started presenting as a teenager)

and i think for a while, early days of being delirium, not delight, she didn't know what to do with that. delight broke into scattered pieces and the more fell away the harder it became to connect them

but she's also the only one of her siblings who's picked herself up from that. and it's why she's the wisest of them. because from there she learned

okay, so her innocence is gone. so delight isn't coming back. but there's still parts of her around, if delirium ever needs them. and the more she observes about the world, the more she experiences, the more different pieces she gets to add to the puzzle. they don't fit together, but that's del's real strength - they're not supposed to. she could have tried to reassemble herself piece by piece, like gluing together a broken statue, but why would she do that? then she'd be exactly as breakable as before, if not more so

instead she's more of a floating amalgamation of pieces, or rather, she's the ties between them. and because there's no set puzzle, she can put those pieces together in any order. she's no longer susceptible to the same problems as her siblings, because she's not missing anything anymore. she didn't lose parts of herself when becoming delirium, she gained some

and yes, no one is entirely without flaw - her downside is she's still susceptible to strong emotion, and when that overwhelms her mind she stops being any kind of person, we just see that floating amalgamation, until she can calm down. but that's the worst of it. her siblings may see her as broken, but she's more whole than she ever was as delight. and she's never going to break again

[lemmeurs]

okay. here is my 1600+ words essay on raphael. if anyone would like to adress anything from it, please do but keep it civil! i am so damn invested in this topic, i wanna hear everyone's thoughts

raphael rant

(DISCLAIMER: this essay was not written in order to justify Raphael as a character or any of his actions or intentions. i am completely skipping any point of morality, whether my own or just in general, i simply wanted to somehow try and write my feelings and thoughts down while looking at the whole thing from an objective point of view, analyzing the design of the game, the plotline and his whole persona and just.. idk i wanted to see whether anyone else felt the way i do because i have been going INSANE over this for the past few days)

hi. i have come here today to express my thoughts and feelings on Raphael the cambion and "his final act". this is being randomly and spontaneously written in my notes app so please excuse the absolute chaos that this essay will be (no i won't be rereading it, fuck it we ball) (CONTAINS BG3 ACT III SPOILERS!!)

first of all — i am so beyond devastated that he gets killed. and not just by anyone, he gets killed BY US. THE PLAYER. WE AS THE PLAYER DELIVER THE FINAL BLOW THAT ENDS HIS EXISTENCE. not only is that very upsetting (because come on, hot devil man, obviously i don't wanna kill him??) but it also makes me feel so.. awful. like, everything about this is wrong and i hate the fact that there is no other option.

because let's review the course of the story in the house of hope:

- we barge into his house unannounced, uninvited, while he is absent

- we invade his privacy by entering what's his own personal space (yes, i know he stole it from Hope in the first place but that is not the point here — whatever his devil business is, it's still HIS, you know?? like he is a devil, this is the kinda stuff they do and honestly? i didn't want to stick my nose into it. but obviously i did because tHe sToRy etc etc. but still, it was his own thing that basically doesn't affect the player in any way so TECHNICALLY you dont have to free Hope. you can, if your character's moral compass advises so, but it doesn't affect the main plot.)

- we then proceed to walk around his house freely, lie to his archivist in order to look at the stuff we're already planning to steal

- we meet his personal incubus whom then we have the chance to either use or kill (i fought Haarlep so that's the point of view i'm looking from at this here, in which case i also robbed their corpse) and we rob his safe. and his whole bedroom actually. we read his journals. we use his bath.

- then obviously we go and rob his entire archive which includes all of his most precious possessions

- upon stealing, we slaughter every single creature in his house, fighting our way through to get to Hope's prison

- we then kill the two spectators he has guarding her (they were probably super hard to obtain??) and we just. free his prisoner. because yeah, that is the right thing to do, IM NOT SAYING THAT'S WRONG, but let's say we skip morality for a second, let's just focus on the fact that we have no ulterior motives in freeing Hope. we just wanna mess with HIS business because why not since we're already ruining all of his plans.

- and then we have the audacity to try to leave before he comes back and act like we were never there while his entire house is turned to shit.

now let's look at this list again but this time keep in mind the fact that at that point, he hasn't done A SINGLE THING to us. like, he has never harmed us, he treated us with (let's call it) "respect" and politeness, he was fine with our hesitation towards his deal and was willing to give us time. he was never aggressive towards us, he was never "the enemy".

and now you can say - okay wtf is wrong with you, that man literally admitted his intention of conquering the worlds, enslaving all mortals and basically becoming the tyrant of all while also most likely stealing everyone's souls for his own pleasure.

yes, he did, and yes, that's bad. but just because those were his intentions does not give us the right to do all that shit to him AND THEN KILL HIM. AS IF WE HAD THE RIGHT TO SERVE JUSTICE HERE?? YEAH HIS PLANS ARE EVIL BUT IT IS NOT UP TO US TO DICTATE HIS CONSEQUENCES. HIS PLANS WOULD ONLY SUCCEED IF WE GAVE HIM THE CROWN IN THE END, SO JUST- DON'T?? LIKE DO YOU GET WHAT I MEAN. IM NOT TRYING TO JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS OR INTENTIONS, BY ALL MEANS. i'm just trying to express how weird this all made me feel because not everyone decides to play as the selfless, lawfully good hero of all, protecting the world from all evil, ever! this is roleplay, afterall!

and them obviously he comes home. he is furious, as he should be. but mostly he's betrayed because, as weird as it may be, he trusted us. he admitted to growing "quite fond of us, in his own way". he thought we were some weird sort of.. acquaintances? friends maybe? (again, i know most of our relationship with him is mostly just him manipulating us but still, it's quite clear he wasn't expecting this betrayal) and we just barged in there and disrespected him in the worst way possible. so obviously he wants to kill us now and obviously we can kill him since he's just a boss in a game. and that's what we do. and then.. that's it. we're the good guys. we ruined a man's whole career because we needed one of his toys, murdered him in his own house and just left. and we're supposed to be the good guys.

i think the source of my problem is that Raphael is never introduced as evil. we don't meet him as the big bad villain that we know we'll have to kill at some point. i swear to god, at the beginning of act 3 i trusted that man way more than i trusted the Emperor and i was so close to agreeing to his deal just because i felt like i could trust him and he would keep me safe (for some reason, let's blame it on those wonderful eyes of his).

we meet him so early on in the game and he follows through all 3 acts, making it feel like he's gonna be some key character that will matter in the end - turns out, no! we were just supposed to rob and kill him. and that's literally it. talk about wasted potential.

when i first met him i got the "unofficial narrator" vibes from him, as if he was only supposed to seem intimidating and "evil" but you could sense there was so much more to him and i was dying to see how his story would unwrap. i was so ready for a redemption act, a plot twist, anything. man was i disappointed. because how cool would it be if he turned out to be a part of the "gather your allies" quest?? imagine having him as an ally and an ACTUAL friend in the end??

and don't even GET ME STARTED on what the orb in Helsik's shop shows you after you kill him. the fact that he's not even dead yet but ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED BY MEPHISTOPHELES. ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED. BY HIS FATHER. HE. WHAT. THATS THE ENDING HE GETS. and we are the ones that served it to him when he got RIGHTFULLY pissed at us for doing all that shit to him. and im supposed to just be fine with it?? i'm supposed to feel like this was the ending he deserved and i did the right thing??

god what i would give for a different way. idk. striking a new deal with him. saving him from Mephistopheles afterwards. REDEMPTION ARC?? ANYTHING?? NO? THATS IT THEN?

now i know that you dont HAVE to kill him, you can either agree to his deal or just ignore him and the house of hope altogether. but that just defeats the whole purpose of this character?? agreeing to his deal and giving him the crown at the end results in a pretty bad ending and ignoring him means that yeah, you don't have to kill him but you also don't get anything else from him anymore. like he has no other endings, just either death or his big evil plans. and for a game with so many choices and so much branching, it just feels almost weird that that's all he is there for. then why do we meet him in act 1? why does he follow through to act 2? (yeah, astarion, i know, but i cant help but feel like they could have put a completely different way to read his runes there if they didnt want Raphael specifically to help us) WHY ARE WE ALREADY SO USED TO HIM BY THE TIME HE PRESENTS HIS DEAL? if the whole hammer business is the only thing he's in the game for, then we may have as well been introduced to him only in act 3 during the whole Voss quest. but we knew him already and he felt like some sort of a.. friend lets call it? idk. this just does not make sense to me and makes me genuinely so sad.

as i'm writing this, it's the third day after ive completed the house of hope and i literally can not think about anything else. like my mind is just going on and on about this and i cant get over it!! im actually GRIEVING a fictional devil and i dont know what to do with all these.. thoughts.

so now i actually genuinely MISS THAT MF. I MISS HIM. GIVE HIM BACK. I WASN'T DONE AND NEITHER WAS HE. PLEASE PLEASE LARIAN I CAN FIX HIM—

okay i think thats it for now. idk i wrote this so chaotically i already forgot what i said and didnt say. im just. im feeling so many things. im so fucking sad and mad that this is how it ends. rest in peace hot devil man i will never forget you.

[valenteal]

So I’m rereading Storm Bringer and I just got to the first fight with Verlaine and I have some thoughts/commentary/issues.

To be clear I absolutely love this book and it is fantastically written. And this might be a translation issue or it might be a lack of research on Asagiri’s part, but the language used to describe Chuuya and Verlaine’s skills is just wrong. The biggest thing is the way it uses the word density. Density isn’t about gravity, has little to do with gravity. It’s a measure of mass, how close together molecules are. And if you increase density it doesn’t increase mass or gravity but would instead decrease volume. As in shrink. Increasing the density of a person would shrink them and probably hinder a lot of biological processes.

But something I find very interesting is the use of the word annihilation, which in this context if you’re familiar with quantum theory implies that the reaction created when Chuuya’s gate is opened has something to do with antimatter. Annihilation is the term for the reaction that occurs when antimatter comes into contact with matter, it releases huge amounts of energy in the form of gamma radiation. The use of the word gate is also quite interesting because it implies that there’s something on the other side. It’s almost as if Chuuya’s ability is its own pocket dimension. When Verlaine opens the gate just a hair heat and wind escape and Adam detects signs of annihilation happening on the other side. It actually lines up pretty well with what I know about antimatter.

I can’t help but think that Asagiri has also read Neil deGrasse Tyson’s essay “Antimatter Matters” in his book Death by Black Hole and Other Cosmic Quandaries because he uses the example of Billiards in the essay to illustrate his thoughts about antimatter. It’s really funny actually, he wonders if a game of anti-pool would be the same as regular pool, if gravity would affect antimatter exactly the same as it does regular matter. But we don’t know because it’s nearly impossible to create antimatter, that’s what particle colliders do but the only way to keep your antimatter from annihilating is to keep it in an electromagnetic box that repels it before it can touch. But as soon as you create a stable atom with no electric charge that becomes useless. So anti-hydrogen has been created before but it can’t exist for more than an extremely small fraction of a second. Anyway I’m getting off track. Point is I started rereading this book because I read that essay and I will forever associate pool and physics with Storm Bringer and now I’m wondering if I’m crazy and drawing connections where none exist or if Chuuya’s ability is just that much more absolutely INSANE than we ever even imagined. Cause like… it’s super OP but at the same time gravity is like the weakest force.

[UPDATE: READ THE REBLOGS IF UR INTERESTED IN MORE]

[thecurioustale]

My New Book Is Out! | Tokens of Zeal

My new book is out!

Buy it! Buy it now!

That's right: In secret, on January 2 of this year I began writing a book of essays. Some of you may know that I have an online journal, which I created in the summer of 2003 when I was just 21 years old and have kept up with ever since. For my new book I went back to the journal and read through it, entry by entry, drawing out excerpts of interest that became conversation pieces for 81 various and sundry essays reflecting on my past life and past thoughts.

The essays are short, often very short. They are less challenging than my usual writing, I would say. My purpose was not to advance my personal frontier of philosophy and intellectual thought in 2024, or to reach a niche audience of deep thinkers, but instead to reflect sincerely on some things I've seen along the way and muse upon how my thoughts have changed and stayed the same over twenty years.

I mention this to you because I am a bit worried that anyone who reads this book might think there's not much to me as an author, and might be dissuaded from reading my works of fiction when those books eventually come out, so I'll lampshade that by adding that I wrote this book in two-and-a-half months. Make of that what you will. I told myself I wouldn't self-sabotage the book by needlessly saying negative things about it, and I am proud of it, not only the fact that I finished it at all, let alone so quickly, but of the actual contents too.

This book is "Volume 1" in a hypothetical series, as it doesn't cover the entire twenty years of the journal but only the first four months, from August to November of 2003—at which point the essays had reached "book length" (lol). So really this book is a snapshot of my life in the latter half of 2003. At that time, I was fading out of college due to financial hardship and other issues, and did not realize that I would never (as yet) return.

I have been wanting for years to go back and reread my journal, and writing a book out of it was the perfect impetus to finally do it. I think a few things stand out about the Josh of 2023:

First, my principles have remained remarkably consistent, but my awareness and understanding of the world has grown drastically, and so those same principles have led me over time to some different policy views and worldviews on some things.

Second, I was a 21-year-old arrogant block of cheese, full of hormones and self-conviction, and that definitely shows up at times in ways that I simultaneously am not proud of and yet which I admire for their sheer gall. There is something very magnetic about the old me which doesn't exist anymore.

Third, following up on that point, it was pretty inspiring and encouraging to revisit the old me, with all that native optimism and drive. I don't express those qualities anymore because life has worn me down and also because I have come to recognize that humanity's problems are a lot more stubborn and irremediable than I thought. By glimpsing into the past, I couldn't help but be cheered on by the old Josh's proud, utopian sense of human inevitability. It lifted my own spirits in the here and now!

I made the mistake of announcing the book on Patreon right after I finished writing it, i.e. back in mid-March. Then I had to wring my hands every week about how post-production was taking longer than expected. Between the irritating realities of formatting a book in software not properly equipped to format a book (never write a book in Google Docs), the complexities of my detail-oriented manner and strong vision regarding the cover design (and engaging for the first time ever with modern generative AI, and having to learn those ropes), and sustaining illnesses and other life priorities and so on, it would take me another two months in all to finally reach today, where I can now publicly declare:

The book is done! It is for sale right now. It is called:

Tokens of Zeal: Words from a Vanished Age

(Caption: Book front cover of Tokens of Zeal: Words from a Vanished Age, by Joshua Calars.)

You can buy it through Amazon in either paperback or e-book format. (I recommend the paperback version for aesthetics as it is much truer to my design vision for the book's layout and appearance, but my profit margin is actually a dollar bigger with the e-book version, so really just go with whichever version you prefer.) It is available in the US as well as in basically all the other countries that Amazon has expanded its publishing service into. If you need help finding a link to a particular version, give me a ping and I will point you there (if there is a "there" to be pointed to). This is my second published book, following Prelude to After The Hero in 2015, and the first book to be published in print.

If you do read it, first of all thank you! It's an honor that you would take the time. Second of all, I would love any feedback you care to offer. That's not a platitude either; feedback is hard to come by and I really would be interested in anything you have to say, good or bad. You can e-mail me, DM, reblog this, drop an ask, or tag me in an independent post. Whatever you like! Feedback will help me greatly when I eventually get around to writing Volume 2. And feel free to leave a review on Amazon, whether good or bad (though hopefully you enjoy the book); I am told it pleases The Algorithm. But most of all, if you enjoy the book, tell someone about it! Your word-of-mouth is currently 100 percent of my advertising budget, lol.

That's all. I wrote a book; it took four-and-a-half-months; it's done now; and it's the first time I've ever gotten to hold a book that I wrote in my hands as a physical thing, and that's pretty neat.

[lilbeanz]

Hello! Not an ask, just wanted to say I adore your content; you're so skilled. I came across your art first, and the drama of even the smallest panel; I'd been eyeing JoDT & sequels for awhile because it was a WIP, but I caved and binged bks1-4 in about three days. I reread the "Eat your heart out Pureblood society" scene at least once a day, thank you for that, superb execution. I also really liked, in the first book, the interactions between Malfoy & Harry, and the very gradual "well, he's our friend now." The development of their friendship has done a great job of re-defining the characters and their relationships. The series feels like its own thing, and the fact that Ginny never even had the diary in book 2 only cemented that. I've really appreciated the deviation from Draco-the-tortured-hero/Draco-making-amends (which I also love to read). Horrors of the Heir was a great twist and really put the whole series in another tier, tbh. CoS was like, my least favorite of the series as a kid (alongside GoF, which has grown on me as I read fanfic) and your version of bk 2 easily established the micro-obsession of your series for me. Also, Crabbe & Goyle?? "They're actually really good friends"?? "Just to see if we feel anything"?? Adorable. Obsessed.

tldr; Your rewrite of the series is incredibly unique, and I admire how you've really taken the series and made it something completely fun and new and modern 💜💜💜

Looking forward to the rest. Thank you for sharing!

AaaAaaAaaHhhHhhHh?!??!?!

This is such a lovely comment, I can't even -- I -- I'm --

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying the series so far! It really has been such a challenging, fun project!

I adored writing the "Eat Your Heart Out" scene. People tend to forget that Draco Malfoy is canonically *very* dramatic when he wants to be. Yes, he can be sulky and scheming, but he also shouts taunts across the courtyard, and puts on scenes to make older students laugh at Harry’s expense, even going so far as to dress up as a Dementor to make his "rival" lose in Quidditch.

The Horror of the Heir was such an experience for me as the author, because CoS is my favourite book from the series (weird, ik) and looking back, I sort of realise I could’ve squeezed in so much more. But last May, 45k was a HUGE amount of words for me! And now I'm churning out 100k like nobody's business 💀

✨️Growth✨️

And speaking of growth, the reason I had Draco take Tom Riddle’s diary was purely because of growth. It would've taken him far longer to change as a person if he hadn't taken Ginny's place. A pivotal character development moment, as he reflects on his upbringing etc...

Crabbe and Goyle generally get overlooked in the fandom, and it really bugs me. Vince dies canonically, yes, but I absolutely love it when fic writers incorporate Greg as an actual character in post-war fics, and acknowledge that Vince was Draco’s friend.

It's always Blaise, Pansy, and Theo because they're intelligent and societies definition of "attractive." I mean, each to their own of course, but I could write an entire essay on the injustice I feel for Crabbe and Goyle!

And then, of course, the development of Draco’s relationship with the Golden Trio, specifically Harry. Just -- Ugh-- these silly kids make me so unhinged!😂

It wouldn't be all sunshine and rainbows to begin with. Of course it wouldn't. It's a rocky start, with bumps along the way (and more big bumps to come), but I really do love the way I have progressed their relationship, and I'm not even gonna be humble about it! I really do love my own fic!!!

All this to say, thank you so much!!! I realise fix-its are a very popular type of fic to write, but I really do try to keep it as fresh and unique as possible, so the fact that I really am able to give my readers an experience means the world to me💖

[enlitment]

N°2 for the book asks

Thanks for the ask kind anon and sorry for taking forever to answer! (this one was not easy!)

Top 5 books of all time?

In no particular order:

1. Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood

Set in an interesting historical period (Canada in the 1800s) + partially based on real events + focuses on women's issues + from a female perspective + includes complex, morally grey characters + unreliable narrator trope + criminal (sub)plot + weird historical psychoanalysis & psychiatry + some really great writing. Need I say more?

(Also the show is actually really good as well, if you don't feel like reading the book!)

2. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

I mean, it's a classic for a reason. Gay yearning. Corruption. Murder. Beautiful descriptive prose. But hey, this is Tumblr, so I feel like I'm preaching to the choir here.

(Still need to get my hands on the uncensored version at some point!)

3. The World's Wife by Carol Ann Duffy

I've reread this one more times than I can count. Duffy draws on the classics (mostly Greek mythology, but also fairy tale characters and even Faust) but reimagines them through a more contemporary, as well as female perspective. That could go wrong really easily, but this book in fact does a stellar job in my opinion.

Just read Eurydice, my favourite (I don't think I've ever felt quite as represented by a poem before). Or Medusa. Or Pygmalion's Bride.

Or, you know, and poem that is not Mrs. Tiresias - I like to pretend that one is not there.

4. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess

Very much my teenage obsession. It's a gripping read written from the point of view of a teenage criminal that speaks in a strange mix of English and Russian that is at first barely coherent. It's raw, it's brutal, but it also asks some very interesting questions about the nature of morality and free will in a way that does not feel forced.

Oh, and the movie's great as well. Possibly the best soundtrack of all time. So good and so problematic that it's been banned in the UK until the 2000s.

5. The Great Cat Massacre (and Other Episodes in French Cultural History) by Robert Darnton

A collection of essays focusing on the microhistory of 18th century France? It's a real mystery why I like it so much, huh.

It's actually a bit insane how much I owe to this book. It arguably helped to spark my Rousseau and Diderot (and, in general, enlightenment era) obsession. I also sneakily reapplied Darnton's argument to justify my thesis (it's totally necessary to study 18th-century mental health approaches, give me all the funds now, please! /s).

Darnton is not only a hilarious author, but you also get a sense that he truly cares about the people he writes about. If you get your hands on it, I recommend reading chapter 4 (includes police description of the key enlightenment figures, like V, Rousseau, and Diderot!) or chapter 6 (the Rousseau stan culture analysis).

Maybe skip the titular chapter, especially if you are fond of cats. I'm afraid the name is, in this case, quite literal.

[ponett]

Is the TKP revival and accompanying video essay still in the cards for this year?

They are. They're just not my focus right now, because they'll be a huge undertaking. I'm probably going to have to reread not only the entire TKP archive but also all of Ken's actual Sonic comics as a refresher before I can make any real progress on the video or resume regular updates. It's been anywhere between five and ten years since I last read any of Ken's Sonic comics, and I don't want to just recycle things I said on the blog in my 20s in the video. There are things I missed, and things I would articulate differently at age 30 than I did at age 20. All this will take some time. But, I mean, the year's not even halfway over

In the meantime, I'm working on a long piece about both the original FF7 and Rebirth, which is taking longer than I'd hoped because I'm making very slow progress with Rebirth. And for TKP, I know I'll have to write something about the Knuckles show this week, and after that I still have a half-finished review of Sonic Dream Team, and I might post something about the Fang miniseries as well