#not all of the SIX editors they have read it. like. it 4 sure went thru 3 of them bc i worked w 3 editors. so the othr 3 what just cldnt b
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A/N: This story will (Read: might) be uploaded in 4 parts. This is part 1 out of.... unknown. This man has been on my radar since Love, Victor, and now that he's been in Never Have I Ever, more people can see how amazing he is.
A/N#2: This isn't a fic for Victor (L, V) or Ethan (NHIE). This is a fic for the actor behind those characters, Michael Cimino.
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What Are We?
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There’s something about waking up naked to breakfast in bed from your best friend that seems fake as hell, except it’s not and it’s happening to you.
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You and Michael met at an after-party for a movie premiere a couple of years ago. The two of you bonded over how bad the movie was even though the cast of actors was amazing.
He thought you were very pretty and tried flirting, but he stumbled over his words. You thought it was cute that an established actor was essentially fumbling trying to talk to you, so you saved him the trouble and asked for his number.
After that night, the two of you were inseparable for about two weeks since that’s all the time he had left to stay in LA before he went back to filming. The distance didn’t stop y’all, though. He always made sure to check on you, ordering you food from across the country just to make sure you ate, sending “good morning” texts, etc. That continued over the years and sometimes you thought he was crushing on you, but you didn’t want to assume anything.
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So, when he surprised you for y’all’s two-year “friend-iversary” by showing up at your doorstep with flowers, your favorite dessert in hand, and a hand-written letter that says how much he cherishes you as a person made you swoon a bit because nobody had ever done that for you, friend or not. Maybe you’d been the one to develop a crush on him.
“Michael?! What the fuck are you doing here?”, you moved out the doorway so he could walk in.
He went straight to your kitchen to put the dessert in the freezer, “Thank God you weren’t taking a nap, this ice cream cake would’ve melted.”
You followed behind him and sat on the counter and watched him move around your kitchen like he lived there, the sight was so cute. If only you weren’t so afraid to tell him how you felt.
“Um… Hi Michael?”
“Hi hello, how are you on this wonderful day?” he hugged you tight, his face buried in your neck. The way his breath felt on you had you thinking some very impure thoughts.
You pushed him back before you could let out an audible moan, “Wonderful day? It’s definitely a regular-ass Tuesday.”
“It’s our fucking friend-iversary! Did you forget or something?” you did forget, you’re willing to admit that but then again you weren’t even aware that this was something that’d be happening.
“I didn’t even know that was a thing, dude! Is that why you showed up with all that stuff?”
“Duhhh. Annnd it’s the first time we’re seeing each other in SIX MONTHS! It’s the longest I’ve ever been away from you! How are you not vibrating out of your skin right now?”
That was an easy question to answer. Every piece of excitement that would’ve exploded when you saw him was quickly taken over by a bit of arousal. He had clearly been hitting the gym every day and the tank top plus short shorts combo was doing something to you.
“I was just working on something before you came,” you saw his eyes light up, “Woahhh before you get all excited, no you can’t see it.”
You’re sort of an influencer. You do a ton of stuff without the restriction of a company behind you. You manage yourself and do it well. Your profession is being an editor.
“Oh come on~. You know I enjoy watching you work, even if I don’t completely understand what you’re doing.”
“The final answer is no. Anyway, what are we doing for this friend-iversary?”
He opened your cabinet and took out a bag of chips and started eating them, “I was thinking that we get dressed super fancily and go to an overpriced restaurant, then we come back here to Netflix and Chill.”
Your eyes widened at his words, was he suggesting you two hook up? Like sleep in the bed in a non-platonic way?
He saw your expression change, “Wait, wait, wait I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that we chill out and have some of my famous margaritas.”
“Oh! Right, right,” You were kinda sad that he didn’t mean it, but you certainly weren’t gonna let him sense that you were bummed, “So, what’s this letter?” You held up an envelope.
He cleared his throat, “Oh that?” he snatched it from you, “That’s something I want you to read when I leave the state. Got it?”
You nodded your head yes.
“Now that we’ve got that straight, go get dressed. Our reservations are at eight and you take forever to get ready.” he put the chip bag down and started walking to the door.
“I do not take forever, wait, where are you going?”
“To get my suitcase. We finished filming yesterday and I thought I’d spend some time here… Is that okay with you?”
You smiled a little, “DUH! Why wouldn’t it be okay with me? Go get your bag before I purposely take forever to get ready.”
He was already halfway out the door when you finished your sentence.
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(Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed)
Taglist: @prettyisasprettydoes1306
@thatone-girly @blackerthings
@roguekiki @enigmadivine
@novaniskye @ziayamikaelson
@twocentuar
@chaneajoyyy
#becauseimswagman1#michael cimino#never have i ever#nhie s4#x black reader#never have i ever x reader
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#o i sure was having a good day 2day.. so ofc shit has 2 happen 2 ruin it lol!! i already went off abt it on twitter but like. the first evr#acceptance i got 3 MONTHS ago just emailed me saying despite editing extensively despite signing a contract despite despite despite#my piece is 2 graphic n they wnt b publishing it. bc somehow in 3 months not all of the 6 editors looked it ovr n agreed on it.#bc somehow despite going thru 3 months of editing including copy editing despite them sending me a fucking publishing contract 2 sign#not all of the SIX editors they have read it. like. it 4 sure went thru 3 of them bc i worked w 3 editors. so the othr 3 what just cldnt b#fucked in 3 MONTHS to read n agree ?? u have 2 wait til literally the last fucking moment? im just. lol. im crying n angry n like. what the#fuck. genuinely what the Fuck. how do u have a piece for 3 months n not read it. how do u send a piece thru 3 months of editing n not have#evry1 read it. how do u get an author 2 sign a contract w/o evry1 reading the fucking piece ur signing with. lol. lol. LOL#im just. thats literally the reason trigger warnings exist! like! to let readers decide if they can handle reading something or if they need#2 skip it! thats their fucking purpose! lol! but ok. 2 graphic. ok. dnt evn write the title ritght. ok. ok. im genuinely distraught lol
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HEY! Rosa answered and debunked a lot of Life and Times things
Deadass talked to him for like 4 hours lmao but I got most of my questions answered! This is gonna be only the fact part of my talks with Rosa, I'll post the more personal interactions in another post.
Ok so number 1 is MOLLY WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE A CHILD LMAOOOO. She was still very young (early 20s) and died fairly young as well, but Rosa said he just wanted to portray an overworked miner and mother. AND I THINK HE SAW MY POST FROM JUNE LMAO. He said 'A few months ago I saw someone post how Molly looks like a child and why does she look like a child! But no no no that's not what I intended at all! I don't know why other prints of the family tree make her look like a child! This is the most accurate one.' (he points to the one where Molly is older looking and has Ludwig in it was well.)
Number 2 is what happened to Hortense and Della? Apparently Della was always missing to him. He didn't clarify how exactly she was missing, but she just went missing. Hortense on the other hand, he had more details. Originally in his mind, Hortense was alive and well! She was hiding and only Matilda knew. Rosa was originally going to do a sequel to 'The Castle's Secret' where Matilda reveals that they should go reunite with Hortense.
Rosa got as far as creating a general script and some doodles but then Disney and his editors came up to him and said that he wasn't allowed to include any of the Sensational Six's parents. So treat her as if she died. So that's just what Rosa did, so yes Hortense is dead in the Life and Times.
Number 3: Would Scrooge have settled down and make Dawson his home base instead of Duckburg? Rosa actually laughed at this one cause he had never thought of it before. His first answer was that he wasn't really sure! But regarding a family and stuff, he wasn't sure either so he just said 'maybe? Who knows what would have happened.' AND BOY IS MAYBE GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME LMAO
But he did go into the whole Scrooge faking his death to go and marry Goldie, move back into the cabin, and live the rest of his days with her. Which actually he was going to get that published as well! But Disney immediately said a cold hard 'no'
Not really a number but, ROSA DOESN'T HATE DUCKTALES!!! This is the one that surprised me a bit! He laughed and asked why does everybody think he hates Ducktales! He said DT87 was one of the best shows of the 80s and DT17 is just...interesting and a bit weird to him.
The difference is he doesn't like how the shows were executed. He said the shows really dumbed down the lessons of the comics. But for little kids, yeah it's a good show. He thinks DT doesn't do a very good at portraying everything the comics were able to convey. He doesn't like watching the show, and hasn't watched it all the way through, but he doesn't hate DT.
Also he actually gets excited when people tell him that they discovered his books through Ducktales! Because they're still managing to find and actually taking the time to read the Carl Barks comics and the Don Rosa comics.
Goldie's eye color. Now this one was interesting to me. I brought up how Goldie's eyes constantly change between blue and green. Apparently Rosa intended for her to always have blue! 'She's supposed to be this beautiful woman, so I had to give her those shining blue eyes. But Carl Barks gave her green eyes so it's always changed. I don't control the colonization of the comics.'
What happened to the chilis? So many Don Rosa fans will know that at conventions, Rosa usually brings a basket of chilis for people to eat. But the last few times he hasn't brought them. Apparently it's because in Europe he found out he could get in huge legal trouble for it, and in the US, people would touch the chilis and not eat them. So Rosa just didn't wanna deal with the hassle of that anymore.
I'm sure we talked about more regarding TLAT but I don't remember at the moment, I'll add on if I remember again 😅
#ducktales#ducktales 2017#disney#duck tales#scrooge mcduck#della duck#don rosa#hortense mcduck#life and times of scrooge mcduck#goldie o'gilt#glittering goldie#molly mcduck#molly mallard#scroldie
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Dragon Age development insights from David Gaider - PART 1
This information came from DG on a recent SummerfallStudios Twitch stream where he gave developer commentary while Liam Esler played DAO, specifically the mage Origin. I transcribed it in case there’s anyone who can’t watch the stream (for example due to connection/tech limitations, data, time constraints, or personal accessibility reasons). A lot of it is centered on DAO, but there’s also insights into DA2 and DAI. Some of it is info which is known having been out there already, some of it is new, and all of it imo was really interesting! It leaps from topic to topic as it’s a transcript of a conversational format. It’s under a cut due to length.
Note on how future streams in this series are going to work: The streams are going to be every Friday night. Most likely, every week, they’re going to play DAO. Every second week it will be Liam and DG and they’ll be doing more of this developer commentary style/way of doing things, talking about how the game was made as they play through, covering quirks and quibbles etc. Every other week, it will be Liam and a guest playing a different campaign in DAO, and Liam will be talking with them about how DA changed their lives or led them into game development, to get other peoples’ thoughts on the series (as it’s now been like 10 years). Some of these guests we may know, some we won’t. When other DA devs are brought on, it’ll be in the DG sessions. They hope to have PW and Karin Weekes on at some point. Sometime they hope to have an episode where they spend the whole time going through the lore.
(Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6)
[wording and opinions DG’s, occasionally LE’s; paraphrased]
DAO’s development actually finished up around April 2009. They then put it on ice for around six months before release. Human Noble is DG’s favorite Origin. It’s one of the ones he wrote. He also wrote the Dalish Origin as well (Tamlen is his doing ;__;). DAO’s temp name during development was Chronicles. DG has never played any of the DA games after they were released. He played them pre-release loads of times, when they were half-broken or incomplete etc. This stream is his first time seeing everything played after completion.
NWN: Hordes of the Underdark was the first game where DG was a/the lead writer, in charge of other writers, as opposed to a senior writer. It was pretty well-received. In the fall of 2003, BW were just finishing up HotU when James Ohlen came to DG to talk. BW had been having issues during the development of NWN with the IP holder for D&D Wizards of the Coast, so they were interested in starting their own IPs that they would have ownership over (and also for financial reasons). JO said to DG that one of these new IPs would be fantasy and one would be sci-fi. He knew that DG was more fantasy-oriented, and so asked DG if he wanted to take this on. DG was down, and the first thing to figure out was what that fantasy IP was going to be.
JO gave DG an atlas of European history, which he still has, and said that he wanted him to make a fantasy world that is reminiscent of medieval Europe and reminiscent of D&D - “make it like D&D but not, file off the serial numbers really well”. This worked for DG because he was pretty familiar with D&D and there were also lots of things that he didn’t like about it and wanted to change. So DG went off and for the next six months worked on creating a setting, beginning with documentation and the map. This was kinda strange because they had no idea at that time what their story would be. JO was very interested in having a “genetically evil” enemy in the setting (like an equivalent to orcs). DG wasn’t a big fan of this and his initial go at the setting omitted this (i.e. darkspawn were not a thing) and was a lot more realistic. JO insisted on adding them later on.
This period of development wasn’t actually a good process. There were other people who were working on the project who were designing the combat side. Looking back, DG feels that they should have put their heads together a lot sooner. The combat designers had various ideas for various prestige classes and subclasses, and DG would be like “these are nowhere in the setting [lore]”. He tried his best to add a few of them after the fact, which is why we see things like DA’s version of the bard archetype. The combat designers and artists originally had a vision in mind of a game that was much more along the lines of the type of fantasy you’d find in the Conan the Barbarian world - bare-chested barbarians, sorceresses that show a lot of skin, a grimdark world with barbarian hordes. They were just assuming that’s what it was going to be. At this point in time DG had never thought, “Oh, maybe I’m responsible for communicating my ideas to them” - he’d never done this role before and was just told to go create the world. He created world-building documentation and would send out emails saying “I’m making this documentation, please go ahead and take a look”, not learning until later on that nobody outside of the writing team really likes reading such documentation. He learned tricks later on like making the docs more accessible, less dense and wordy, and overall easier to peruse.
There was no real ‘vision holder’ for DA. Mass Effect did a much better job of that. Casey Hudson was the project director and the vision holder for ME, and he had the power to enforce a set vision of what was and was not ME. ME therefore ended up having a bit more of a coherent vision. DG was in essence the vision holder for DA, but he didn’t really have the authority to enforce it on the artists. The DA teams ended up spending a good 3.5 - 4 years of the ~6 years of DAO dev time going in circles, not exactly sure what they were going to make, the various people working on it having different ideas of what ‘kind’ of fantasy they were going to make. The writing team were leaning towards LoTR; the artists were leaning towards Conan; at one point one of the project directors was leaning towards a point-and-click Diablo-style action adventure; and nobody was overriding anybody else.
The fans who hang out on the forums and in similar places have a very different idea about what kind of game they like and want to play versus the telemetry BW get from the public in general. As an example, fans on the forums tend towards playing non-humans and feeling that playing as a human is boring. Forum-polls reflected that, but BW’s general public-telemetry shows that around 75-80% of the playerbase played a human in DAO. Elves were at 15% and dwarves 5%. In contrast, in the core/forum-based fanbase, the human figure dropped down to 30%.
DG originally wanted Zevran to be a gay romance (he has talked about this before). He asked JO if he could do that pretty early on, thinking of Jade Empire which had same-gender romance options which were really popular. BW were surprised about that, and DG had no idea that the JE team were going to do this. For DAO, he had an idea for an assassin character. He had been reading about how the CIA and KGB would often recruit gay men to be their assassins, as they didn’t tend to have family ties. DG thought this was really interesting. JO was cool with the idea on a conceptual level, but thought that the work that would end up going into it would be better served if those characters could be romanced by both male and female PCs. Zevran and Leliana weren’t intended to be bi, they were “bi out of convenience”, but at the time these sorts of things (representation and such) didn’t enter into the equation as much as it does today. DG wrote Zevran in his head as being romanceable by men.
DG would ask the hair artists, “Why all the mullets?”, because he never understood that, and he’d get “a sort of shrug response”, and an indication that “it’s easier to model, I guess?” Having hair which is loose, in the face, in locks, coming over the shoulders etc wasn’t really supported at this point by the tech or the engine. Hence, they ended up with like five different versions of mullets. On the subject of the engine, for the first half of development they were using an upgraded version of the Aurora engine from NWN, and it was not good. Several years in they decided to switch. Trent Oster was in charge at the time of making a new proprietary BW engine. At the time it wasn’t ready yet, but the DA team decided to grab it, use it and hammer it into the DA engine. That engine had “so many little weird quirks”, like lighting on skin not working properly and looking bad, and one of the issues was hair. It was supposed to be BW’s proprietary engine but it really wasn’t optimized for RPGs and didn’t include a dialogue system. They had to custom-build the conversation system. (At the time Trent didn’t think BW should be doing RPGs anymore, which is a whole other story of its own). DG recalls programmers complaining about things in the engine that weren’t ready for ‘prime-time’. Even compared to games released concurrently, DAO’s graphics were a bit dated.
For the worldbuilding, they had an internal wiki and they kept everything on there. They ended up with a lot of legacy documentation on there very quickly. Eventually they solved this by hiring an editor whose sole job it was to wrangle the documentation. DG started work on the setting in the same manner in which he’d embark on starting a homebrew - ‘so like, first, here’s a map, oh, I like this name, vague ideas, a paragraph on each major nation, a rough timeline of the history, expanding, and it just growing from there’. After about six months, they brought on other writers, and by then he had around 50 pages of documentation. This 50 pages was a minute amount compared to the amount they had generated at the time of release. Originally, they weren’t sure where in the world specifically the story would take place, so DG made sure to seed potential and brewing conflicts throughout Thedas. They settled quite quickly on the new Blight starting in Ferelden. Once they established that, the writers went to town on taking Ferelden specifically and blowing it up detail-wise. Jennifer Hepler was in charge of the dwarves and Orzammar. Mary Kirby was on Fereldan customs and traditions.
The first version of the setting was more grounded in realism, almost like a post-fantasy. The dragons and griffons were extinct and a lot of the things that were thought to be fantastical were thought to be over with. During development, they started clawing these things back. They brought back dragons because the game was named Dragon Age (lol). DG was approached like, “Hey, we named the game DA, can you bring back dragons and weave them into the story more powerfully?” Wynne’s writer Sheryl Chee had a bit of an obsession with griffons and was often like ‘omg, griffons :D’, and this is the origin of Wynne’s dialogue with the Warden about griffons.
KotOR was the first time BW had tried to do a game that was fully voiced-over. For KotOR, BW sent the work of casting, direction and so on down to another studio in California called Technicolor. BW had little say in the process then and when they got it back, “it was what it was”. By the time they got to DA and the first ME, BW had a good system down for recording and VO had become an important thing in games at the time. BW are really one of the premieres for this, a lot of actors really like acting on BW games as they get a lot of space to act where they wouldn’t normally be able to do so otherwise. DG has learned a lot from Caroline Livingstone on how to encourage the best performance out of an actor. For DAO, DG worked together with the various lead designers and Caroline to decide on the auditions, casting etc. This was one of DG’s favorite things to do.
Gideon Emery as Fenris, GDL as Solas and Eve Myles as Merrill were times where DG had written the character and then went to Caroline and said “I have an actor in mind for them, can you check it out?” These were specific times where he was able to secure the actor he wanted. This didn’t always work out, for example there are times when actors aren’t interested or have no time due to scheduling conflicts or were too expensive etc. Eve and GDL were DG’s roommate Cori’s idea. Cori was a big fan of Torchwood/the actors from Torchwood, and worked as an editor at BW for a long time. Gideon was DG’s idea after playing FF12. For DAO, DG didn’t have any specific ideas in terms of actors. Casting Morrigan was the longest, most drawn out process.
The Circle went through a whooole process during worldbuilding. Initially, mages in the game weren’t supposed to have any “fighting magic”. The restrictions were originally such that in the lore, they didn’t teach mages that. Mages weren’t taught any magic that could kill people, only ‘indirect’ forms of magic that could support others. However, [during what sounds like] playtesting it was asked “Why can’t I cast a fireball? I just want to cast a fireball”, so the writers had to go back and rework how magic in the lore worked completely.
Flemeth was originally going to be voiced by Shohreh Aghdashloo, and she was totally on-board, but unfortunately because of DAO’s development delays, she was unable to attend the new recording time as she had a conflict in her schedule (she was filming House of Sand and Fog). Shoreh was quite disappointed about this and her family had been so excited that she was going to be in a video game. When the movie was finished, Shoreh came back to BW and let them know that she was still available, and this is how she ended up in ME2. For a while they were trying to find an actress with an accent that authentically mirrored Shoreh’s. Out of the blue around this time, Claudia Black’s agent sent BW an audition tape of her. At the time Claudia hadn’t done any games but wanted to get into it. The tape was of Claudia doing a beat poet rendition of Baby Got Back. DG still has this tape. DG was a big fan of Farscape and on listening to the tape, it clicked right away in his head that Claudia would be perfect for Morrigan.
The Fade ended up being a big irritation for the writers. They wanted the PC to be able to assume different forms and such while in there. A lot of this stuff proved too difficult for the combat designers to work out, and so it ended up getting changed a lot. They had a hard time coming up with gameplay that could work in the Fade. The mage Origin is DG’s least favorite of the Origin stories, as he’s really dubious about the Fade section in it. It didn’t work out like how they had pictured it in their heads. By the time they got to DAI, that’s when the Fade really looks like how the writers first described/envisioned it. By this point the artists were more keen to give it a more specific feel. DAO was made at a time when ‘brown is realistic’ was a prevailing thing in games dev.
The experience of a mage in the world isn’t represented or conveyed very well to the player when the player is a mage. The experience of the player when they’re playing a mage or have a mage in their party doesn’t really match up with how the world lore tells them how dangerous mages can be - for example, how they can lose control and so on, we never really have an example of a PC mage struggling with being taken over by a demon. This was originally supposed to be a subplot in DA2 for mage Hawkes, in one of the last cuts. In Act 2, mage Hawke was originally slowly being tricked by a demon in their head that they thought was real, only to realize at the last minute. Mouse the Pride demon in the mage Origin is the only time in the entire series that they really ever properly demonstrated how demons can fuck with [PC] mages. Also, PC templars were originally supposed to have a permanent lyrium addiction that they needed to ‘feed’, but this was scrapped as the system designers weren’t keen on it and felt that it was essentially handicapping the player.
Mages were originally also not supposed to be able to deal with pure lyrium (it would ‘overload’ them). There is a plot where mage PCs run around touching lyrium nodes to refill their mana bars. On this DG was like “Wtf is this?” The designers said that it works, and DG said “but it flies in the face of the lore”. This instance is an example of how the DA team was working where the various departments (writers, artists, designers etc) all had their own ideas about how the game and its world would work and never overrode each other (see above). DG feels that DAO is a little contradictory in that way. It’s only after the game came out that a lot of the people on the team really “bought into” what they’d put forward. This got easier as they went on, with people involved buying then into the things that make Dragon Age, Dragon Age. At one point, not everyone on the team was even aware of those things.
DG relates that originally, they would ask the artists, “Ok, can we get a village?” and said village once created would be quite generic and non-specific to DA. The writers would try to relate how things are in the DA world and list things that would be found in a village like this specific to the DA world, and the artists either didn’t read it or had their own ideas (DG isn’t sure which), and nobody was around to tell them not to do that and that they should do it differently. Everyone having their own ideas like this is why we ended up getting something that is this sort of “cobbled together half-Conan half-LotR mish-mash”, and after a while this sort of became DA’s “thing”.
Initially, BW had concepts drawn up for a lot more different creatures. After they went in circles for those years and consequently ran out of time to do all the models, they had to cut these concepts down more and more. Demons were among the ones that were the first to go (this is why we have situations like a bereskarn as the Sloth Demon in the mage Origin). The original concepts for things like spirits of Valor and Sloth demons were really good. Early on, JO made a list of D&D creatures that he liked. He picked the ones that they were thinking of doing, sent them to DG and said to make a “DA version of this”. For example, D&D succubi essentially became Desire Demons. Desire Demons were originally patterned off Sandman, neither male nor female yet really alluring, acting more like a genie and trying to ferret out mortals’ inner desires (which are not necessarily sexual in nature), without being overtly sexual. The artists’ version came back and that was basically the model seen in-game. The writers were like “What is this, this is nothing like the description?” and the artists responded that on the list from JO, it was included, in that you had to click on “succubus” to get to the Desire Demon description, so they had just read “succubus” and done their version of a succubus. The artists did loads of great work, but this was one of the instances were DG was like “???” By then, it was too late to change it. The writers were able to encourage them to make Desire Demons a little more fearsome, so that made it in at least.
The mage Origin was one of the more contentious Origin stories. It had like 4 different versions written of it over time. It was often the case that BW would hire someone, and writing an Origin story was their first test. Three different writers came in and wrote a version of the mage Origin and those versions just didn’t work. Finally they passed it to Sheryl Chee and she wrote it. The Origins were the parts of the game in general that were written/rewritten the most often. There were several others that got written that they discarded.
Duncan was slated for death from Day 1. When DG writes a story, the thing he does first is pick out the big emotional beats that he wants, such as deaths. He decides these ahead of time and the stuff in-between comes later and is more often changed. Oghren was also originally supposed to die, but this ended up getting cut. DG related a story of how Oghren came to be: At the time, there was a phase JO went through when he thought everything had a formula that it could be done by. One of these ‘creative forumulas’ was that all such IPs had a two-word name that they’re known by, such as Star Wars, Star Trek, Dragonlance (being Dragon-Lance). This is how ‘DA’ and ‘ME’ came to be. One of the formulas he wanted to implement was how to distill the ‘comedy character’, like Minsc or HK-47. These characters were very popular with the fans and JO was certain that there was a way to figure this out to create one for DA. At the time, DG argued with him a lot about this. JO insisted it could be done. DG was originally supposed to write this character but ended up not doing so. JO came up with a list of comedic archetypes and had DG write a blurb about what kind of character each could be. These were then sent out to the team who voted on which was their favorite. This process eventually resulted in an archetype basically called ‘The Buffoon’ (think Homer Simpson or Peter Griffin, the kind of guy people laugh at because he’s such an oaf).
At this point ‘The Buffoon’ wasn’t named or made a dwarf yet. JO came to DG to write him, but DG said there was a problem which is that he hates this archetype. Homer and Peter are characters that he despises. DG is a professional writer, but this was comedy (outside of his areas of strength), and he felt the best he would be able to do is write a character who makes fun of this archetype and lampshade that. Comedy is something that has to come from within the writer. Oghren was given to someone else, and he ended up getting rewritten again anyway. By the time they were working on Awakening, DAO had not yet come out, and the assumption prior to the game going out was that Oghren was still going to be the most popular character from among the followers. The comedic character that ended up being the most popular along these lines was Alistair, which was interesting as he wasn’t intended as a comedic character, “so shows what we know”. DG was dubious that Oghren was going to be popular, because “he was kind of pathetic, honestly”, but that was the thinking at the time. Thinking he would be well-loved is why he was in Awakening.
On Alistair, any character DG writes is going to be sarcastic. At the time DG had made it a sort of personal challenge to recreate Joss Whedon’s dialogue patterns in his characters. Alistair was a sort of mish-mash of Xander from Buffy and maybe Mal from Firefly. DG wanted to see if he could do it, so Alistair was kind of quippy and self-deprecating. DG never really considered this to be Alistair’s main personality feature, but when other writers wrote him, they often had him doing this, as they liked the trait so much, and so this is how Alistair ended up as he did.
On dwarves, the dwarves being cut off from the Fade is very much baked into who the dwarves are as a race. There’s a specific reason why. This has been hinted at so far and it’s likely to come up in the future. DG had various ideas for some things that he wanted to include with the races or the way the world works etc. Some of them ended up never happening or some are mentioned only as part of the lore (templar lyrium addiction never coming up in gameplay is an example of this). Dwarven history and the nature of the dwarves is one of the things that survived pretty well though. DG calls Jennifer Hepler “mistress of the dwarves” and says that she did a really detailed, amazing breakdown of their history. After Jennifer left it was Mary Kirby, and DG feels that they did a good job of maintaining how dwarves were, in terms of both how they’re often presented in fantasy and yet also quite different in DA. Orzammar is one of DG’s favorite plots all together. You can really tell that Jennifer Hepler really enjoyed the dwarves and brought a lot of love to that plot.
DG draws a distinction between DA fans and the unpleasant people who harassed Jennifer Hepler.
They managed to keep the Tranquil in. There was a while there where they were going to be cut. At the same time, DG regrets that they couldn’t solve the making of the player more aware of how mages are dangerous, thing. Players could make a cogent argument like “they’re not that dangerous, look at me [mage PC]” and the writers were like “well... yeah, that is fair”. It was a case of showing one thing and the player experience of it being another. DG feels that this made the templars come off worse than they are. DG feels that they are being massively unfair and too extreme in their approach to the problem, but the problem itself is a real thing. He feels that there’s some merit/truth in the argument that mages are oppressed, but he looks at it more like an issue like gun control rather than as treatment of oppressed people, saying that we don’t have an example in real life of oppressed people who can explode into demons and cast fireballs and so on.
There are some funny pronunciations that worked their way into DA, and the reason for a lot of them is as follows: the writers had to create a pronunciation guide for VO, because otherwise you end up with a lot of inconsistencies. (Some did still slip through). The guide was online, and if you clicked on a word, an audio file for it would play. Jennifer Hepler was in charge of this and did a great job, but has a really strong NY accent, and in some cases the ‘NY-ness’ of her pronunciation endearingly worked itself into things (the way Arlathan is sometimes said is an example of where this happened sometimes).
Sometimes the writers trying to communicate the “hotness” of a character to the artists didn’t go smoothly. The writers would sometimes say things like, ok, this character is a romance, they need to be hot, and the designs would come back looking “like Burt Reynolds”, and the writers would be like “???” And then a character that wasn’t particularly intended to be hot, as in that wasn’t mentioned at all in the descriptions of them, would come back “accidentally hot”, and the writers would be like “Why couldn’t you have done this when we were asking for a character that was meant to be hot”, and the artists would be like “What?? He’s not hot”. And this became a thing (lmao - this discussion was prompted by DG being asked “Was Duncan meant to be that hot?”, for context). Some of the artists were so paranoid about their [in]ability to judge actually-hot characters that when it was time to pick an appearance, like for Alistair, they gathered up all the women at BioWare, and DG (“resident gay”) into a room to show them an array of faces and bodies like “Is this hot? Is this hot?” DG and co would sit there like, “How can you not tell? Is this a straight man thing?!” Anyways, this is why oftentimes we ended up with characters who are accidentally hot.
Over time, the writers realized that the way they communicated to artists needed to be managed better. The words they would use would have different connotations to them the writers, than what they did to the artists. For example, for Anders’ design in DA2, he was supposed to be “a little haggard”. When DG thinks of haggard, he thinks ‘a little tired, mussed hair, looking like you’ve been through some shit’. But the artists based on that produced concepts with super sunken cheeks, looking like he’d been terribly starved. The writers needed to develop a specific vocabulary for communicating with the artists, as artists think in terms of how something looks, but writers are thinking in terms of what the character “is”. Anders’ description talked about his history a lot, and the one visual-type word that jumped out was “haggard” due to its visual connotations. “A lot it came down to the writers being up their/our own asses.”
When they got to DAI, they had figured out that the way to get best results on this front was /not/ to have the writer go off and develop a long description and pre-conceived notion of what the character looked like in their head. In such scenarios artists don’t feel that they have much to contribute to the process or an ability to put their own stamp on who this character is and make them interesting to them (the best, most interesting characters are when people at all stages of the pipeline properly get to feed into it). They learned that the better solution was to bring the artists in earlier, and to give them little blurbs, and not name the character but give them an ‘archetype’-sort of ‘name’. For example, Dorian was “the rockstar mage”, “cool”, “Freddie Mercury”. The writers wouldn’t be sure that a particular concept would ‘hit’, so at this stage they would offer an array of options and sit the artist down and walk them through the concepts. The artists would then provide a bunch of sketches and it would go back and forth, with both taking part in the character creation process together. For the first two games, the writers were “really hogging” this process to themselves. They got better at not doing this and better at communicating with the artists by DAI.
There were a lot of arguments about how mages in DAO had a lot of specific lore words like “Harrowing”, “phylactery”, “Rite of Tranquility” etc. There was concern that this would be too confusing for players to understand and that it was too complicated. DG says that thankfully he put his foot down and pushed for this stuff to be kept. A lot of fans assume that as lead writer DG had all this influence, way more influence than he could possibly exert on a team. He wasn’t even a lead, he was a sub-lead, under a lead designer. He only had so much say. If the lead designer or lead artist wanted to do something differently, often there was not much he could do. Hence he had to pick his battles carefully, choose the important ones to fight. The mage vocabulary thing was one of these.
Templar Greagoir’s name is pronounced “Gregor” and it comes from a place in Alberta near where DG lived.
Codex entries are usually one of the last things that get done in a project like this, and so all of that kind of textual lore comes in super late and is super punchy as by then the writers have written so much and are exhausted. They had to find a way to make this process cute or interesting or fun for themselves, which is why a lot of entries are quite fun to read. Sometimes a writer would make a joke for banter [irl], and it would end up making it into an entry.
Only Morrigan and Duncan got unique body models in DAO. The companions all have custom-morphed heads but not custom-morphed bodies (Morrigan not included here). This is why every model has a necklace or a collar right at the point where they had to be attached to be a body. These sometimes used assets that couldn’t be used by the PC but were not unique to that character. Duncan probably got a unique model because he was in a lot of marketing/promotional material. Qunari were originally conceived as having horns.
Most people didn’t even finish DAO once (public telemetry again here), only approximately 20-25% actually did. The devs try not to read too much into this kind of thing, but the telemetry does tell them where a lot of people stop playing the game permanently (they call these “drop-off points”). One of these points in DAO is the Fade during Broken Circle. Sometimes when people interpret this data they involve self-serving biases, but it was generally accepted that the Fade there was too long, too complex, not interesting enough, etc. [source]
[Part 2]
[Part 3]
[Part 4]
[Part 5]
[Part 6]
[‘Insights into DA dev from the Gamers For Groceries stream’ transcript]
#dragon age#bioware#morrigan#solas#video games#queen of my heart#mass effect#lgbtq#jade empire#fenris#the Fenaissance#alistair theirin#lul#fav warden
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Top 3 Aha Moments in Real Estate with Jay Conner & Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
https://www.jayconner.com/top-3-aha-moments-in-real-estate-with-jay-conner-chaffee-thanh-nguyen/
Real Estate Investing With Jay Conner
Jay Conner was joined by his good friend Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen. They talked about some of the “Aha! Moments” in the real estate business.
In addition, they also conversed about “Private Money”. What is Private Money? How and where you can get private money to fund your deals.
All these and more in this episode of Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner.
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen is an International Speaker, #1 Best Selling Author, and Business and Success Coach.
He holds a Bachelor of Science in Industrial Engineering from the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign.
After college, he worked in Corporate America for over 11 years as an Engineer and Senior IT Business Analyst.
He was a Certified Project Management Professional with the internationally recognized Project Management Institute for 6 years.
Using his corporate experience, he went on to start multiple businesses starting in 2002, including Real Estate Investing where he has invested in multiple states across the nation.
His passion, helping others achieve their highest potential in both business and in life.
As a refugee himself, Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen is committed to helping others and giving back. He is very active within his community serving within the Jaycees as a 10th Degree Jaycee, US Jaycee Senator #70583, and a JCI Certified National Trainer.
Timestamps:
0:01 – Get Ready To Be Plugged Into The Money
0:39 – Today’s guest: Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
1:34 – Jay’s New Book: “Where To Get The Money Now” –https://www.JayConner.com/Book
2:13 – Chaffee, one of the editors of Jay’s new book talks about why you need to get this book now!
3:19 – Aha! Moments in Real Estate – Private Money Academy Conference
4:43 – Who is Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen?
8:42 – 1st Aha! Moment: Substituting the collateral allows the lender to continue earning interest on a loan for a longer period of time, should the original property sell in less than 6 months.
10:19 – What is Private Money? Who is a Private Lender?
15:43 – 2nd Aha! Moment: Sellers do not know what they will accept until you make the offer.
23:10 – How can you buy a property using Subject-to existing note strategy?
26:04 – Final Aha moment for today: You can make big money in the real estate business in a very small market.
31:49 – Chaffee’s parting comments: Go out there, do not be afraid to make offers!
Private Money Academy Conference:
https://jaysliveevent.com/live/?oprid=&ref=42135
Have you read Jay’s new book: Where to Get The Money Now? It is available FREE (all you pay is the shipping and handling) at https://www.JayConner.com/Book
Free Webinar: http://bit.ly/jaymoneypodcast
Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.
What is Real Estate Investing? Live Private Money Academy Conference
https://youtu.be/QyeBbDOF4wo
YouTube Channel
https://www.youtube.com/c/RealEstateInvestingWithJayConner
iTunes:
https://podcasts.apple.com/ca/podcast/private-money-academy-real-estate-investing-jay-conner/id1377723034
Listen to our Podcast:
https://realestateinvestingdeals.mypodcastworld.com/11201/top-3-aha-moments-in-real-estate-with-jay-conner-chaffee-thanh-nguyen
Top 3 Aha Moments in Real Estate with Jay Conner & Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
Jay Conner
00:03:06
Well, Chaffee, you’re the one that came up with the idea for the show today, and that is we can talk about the live event a little bit and we had 74, what we call “A-ha moments.” So, tell everybody what “A-ha moment” is at the live event, Chaffee.
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:03:34
So, first of all, let me say that this was one of the best live events that we had a long time in forever. And so to have everyone there, it was a full crowd, full room. Everyone was up in mixing and mingling and having the time and most importantly learning what to do in their business, following Jay’s processes and systems. And as you can see, it’s multiple pages before an “A-ha moment,” which is a moment where Jay talks and trains and teaches about what to do and how to do it.
And the little light bulb comes on and it’s like, “A-ha! I’ve got it! It makes sense!”
Jay Conner
00:04:14
And the attendees are writing these down and they’re turning them in. So we give away prizes and such as well for people to share their A-ha moments. We don’t have near the time to review all 74 of them, but review just a few of the comments that the live event attendees wrote down and turned in as light bulb moments, from learning at the event. But, Chaffee, lets you take a moment and tell folks about your background and how it is we work together.
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:04:47
Sure. So when I was growing up, I was told you gotta go to school, get good grades and get a good job or J-O-B as we call it, right? And so that’s what it is. I did. I went to school, I got great grades.
I’m Asian, of course. So I get straight A’s and good stuff.
Jay Conner
00:05:06
You’re really good at math, right?
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:05:07
That’s right. I was good at Math. So like a lot of Asians during my time, we were either doctors or engineers and I became an engineer, went to college, got big grades again and got a job as an engineer. So I’m working as an engineer in the corporate world at a multi-billion dollar company. And it was always nagging at me, Jay, that I needed to do more. I needed to do something else because I wasn’t made to be an engineer. I was made to do a lot more than go to a job, 8:00 in the morning and come home at 8:00 at night, 10, 12 hours a day working for somebody else, doing something that I might be good at, only I don’t really enjoy, or I don’t have really have a passion about. So during that time I decided to start something on the side and that was my real estate business. Started investing in 2002 and lost a ton of money on my first deal day.
Jay Conner
00:06:09
Uh-oh. There’s one big lesson right there.
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:06:09
That’s a book that I need to write, right? Of what not to do. And one thing that I didn’t have, just to share with everybody, one thing that I did now was a coach or a mentor to call up and say, “What’s going on? What am I doing wrong? Or what am I not doing? What should I be doing that I’m not doing?” And that’s really what got me in trouble, Jay, was really some of the things that I should have done that I wasn’t doing. So it wasn’t necessarily that I was doing something wrong. It was, I was missing some steps. I’m missing some things that I should’ve been doing. And so I lost a ton of money in that first deal. Learned, I went through the school of hard knocks and, and you know, lost a ton of money.
And then I got smart and I said, I need help. And so I got a mentor, I got a coach and started doing some more deals. And then I realized how powerful a coach and a mentor can be for somebody’s business and success. And that led me to personal development, which led me to fall in love with coaching. And so I started transitioning from real estate into coaching. And then while I was coaching at a real estate event, I met this guy right here, Mr. Jay Conner. And it was like a spark right away. It was like, I like this guy. He would resonate. And I like what he’s doing. And at that time you were just starting your Where To Get The Money Now course. And you’re like, I’m going to be a speaker and a trainer.
I’m like, “Me, too. I’m doing the same thing, I’m a speaker and a trainer, too.”
And so we’ve gotten in touch over the years. And then, Jay, you started blowing up. I mean, you started teaching and training a whole ton of people. And along the way, he said, “Hey, Chafee, come join the party.” And I was just like, “I’m there.” Like, where am I at? And let’s join the party and-
Jay Conner
00:07:55
You’ve probably been coming to all of our live events. It’s probably been 7 years or more, 7, 8 years, something like that. But yeah, Chaffee helps me run my mastermind group, as well. So, wow! Mastermind group is starting to blow up big time. Because we had 22 of us in the room, thereabouts, 20, 22 of us in the room, the week before last at the mastermind. And we almost doubled that now, but yeah, Chaffee’s a very, very important part of my team when it comes to working with our students and et cetera.
So anyway, as I mentioned, we just have gone through these A-ha moments. So let’s just go back and forth, Chaffee. This first one here. So I’m gonna read the A-ha moment, but then I’m gonna ask you to expand or to really talk about what it means in a very easy, simple to understand way. So George at the live event wrote down, his A-ha moment was, “Substituting the collateral while I was a lender to continue earning interest on a loan for a longer period of time, should the original property sell in less than six months.” So,how about unpacking that. First of all, a good place to start is, make sure everybody knows what we mean when we say, “collateral.” What’s collateral?
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:09:24
So collateral is what you get in place of the money that you’re lending.
And in our case, Jay, or your case, the collateral is the property. And so they get the property. If something happens and you’re unable to make that payment back to them, then they can go and get the property. And a lot of times they’ll end up with a lot more money when they get the property because you’re only buying those properties that are certain after-repair value, 75% of the ARV, as we say. And so they’re better off getting a property only, obviously you’ve always paid everybody back. And so they’ve never had to use that collateral.
Jay Conner
00:10:10
Yeah, these A-ha moments. So the name of the event that we just said is called The Private Money Academy Conference. So the emphasis of the event is on how to quickly and easily get a lot of private money. So let’s be clear, first of all, Chaffee, and make sure everybody understands what we mean by “private money.” What are we not talking about and who is a private lender or what is a private lender?
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:10:37
So just to be clear, private money typically comes from somebody that doesn’t really do real estate. They don’t want to get involved in real estate. They’re busy or they have other things that they want to do in their life. And they want a greater return on their money. Sometimes people confuse private lenders with hard money lenders and these are professional money lenders. And so they charge points and they charge high interest rates. And that’s what most people are familiar with. That’s what most people use, are hard money lenders. They’re not banks, they’re not institutions. They’re just people. Most of these people are retired or they’re professionals with high incomes and they have money sitting in a bank or in a retirement account, earning them less than 1% typically. And they’re looking to earn a lot more.
Jay Conner
00:11:33
So private lenders are human beings, right? As Chaffee just said, you’re not borrowing money from any kind of bank or mortgage company or broker of money. These are individuals. In fact, Carol Joy and I right now have 47 individuals that are loaning us money, investing with us to do deals. We pay them a higher rate of return, safe and secure, but nowhere near a hard money lender’s rates. One thing that’s very different about this world of private money is we make the rules as the real estate investor. We set the program, like resetting the interest rate. We determine how long the notes are. In Kentucky, they call it a 360. It’s actually a 180. So it’s the opposite direction of how it works when you’re borrowing money from a bank. When I was borrowing money from the banks up until 2009, my first 6 years, that’s where I thought, that’s what you had to do.
You had to go to the bank and borrow the money to fund your deals. Well, 2003 to 2009, that’s what I did. But since that time, and then this world of private money, we have created our own program. And like we said, the interest rate, how much interest rate would you pay, the frequency of payments, and et cetera. So back to this coming here on this A-ha moment, George says substituting collateral allows the lender to continue earning interest. So what I taught in the section was that when you have borrowed money for your real estate deal, and it sounded like I borrow a lot of what we call “seconds” or junior lien position, smaller amounts of private money, not a lot of money that I used to buy a house, but for rehab and say, for example, so I may have like a $30,000 note that I’ve borrowed to rehab a house.
Now let’s say I sell that house and the note has not expired. So if I have another property, another collate piece of collateral that I have, then I keep that note open so that the lender can keep earning their interest. And I don’t have to pay off that $30,000 note, in this example, I can just substitute or change the collateral that’s backing that note. Does that make sense, Chaffee?
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:14:07
Yeah. What you’re saying is that you don’t have to pay back that private lender and pay them on the interest because you still have time left on that note. So instead of them only getting interest on four months of payments because you sold the property within 4 months, you know, it’s a 12-month note, you got eight months left. You just take that and put it on another property and they continue to get paid on those 8 months.
Something that goes along with that is a lot of times when I have a new private lender that is doing business with us, if I cash out, I’m going to pay them off or whatever. One of the first things they say is, “Well, Jay, can’t you just keep the money? I don’t want the money back.” And the answer is, you got to either substitute- If you’re doing the business my way cause we can’t borrow any unsecured money. It’s all backed by real estate. Can I do that legally? Sure. But I want to protect and give the security to the private lenders. So they’ll ask, “Well, can’t you just keep the money, Jay?” And the answer is I can, if I’ve got another property that I can collateralize that note. And the worst, I can’t, I’m just not going to keep the money.
If you pay off and you’re also shooting the collateral, then the real estate attorney can’t keep it in their escrow account, what we call “unassigned” and I mean that they’re not a savings account, right? So either got to pay them back or settle through the collateral. We gotta do our next one, Chaffee. What we’ve got here on the sheet?
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:15:42
I like this one that Felicia had which is, “Sellers do not know what they will accept until you make the offer.”
Jay Conner
00:15:55
Yes. That’s always an A-ha moment. So the A-ha moment is that sellers do not know what they will accept until you make an offer. But now I’ve heard you say this a hundred times, Chaffee, “I’ve never bought a house that I didn’t make an offer on.” Right? So the reason this is such an important point is I just know from experience, it happens all the time and Carol Joy and I, and my team, we do 2 to 3 deals a month, right?
Not a lot of deals, but 420 rehabs since we started this back in 2003. What I’ve learned over all these years is that regardless of what the seller says is the least they will accept. Now, this is particularly if they’re talking to someone else on your team, like the acquisitions. So I have a full-time acquisitionist that does the initial negotiating with the sellers. So regardless of what they tell Kim, our acquisitionist, then I’ll run the numbers. I may not be able to offer that amount of money that he said was the least they would take. So a lot of times I’ll get back to Kim and I’ll offer much, much less. For example, we’ve got a house over in Beaufort right now, that lead came in from one of our bird dogs, a.k.a. Field Agent, a.k.a. Ant Farmer. Anyway, they sent me a picture of this FSBO sign.
And we got up into the seller, Chaffee, and the seller told Kim, in fact it was an inherited property, told him they weren’t going to take one penny less than $300,000. We ran the numbers. I couldn’t offer $300,000 to make it work. The most I could offer was 250,000. So I went back to Kim. I said, “Give them the offer,” and I’m just not offering 250,000, it’s how this offer is framed and presented. I said, “All cash,” i.e. private money, private in there to buy it. And then I could close in 7 days. I knew the house was vacant. I knew it was imperative. There’s no emotional attachment to this property. And these 2 sisters just want to cash out. And so I said, “We close in 7 days, all cash. Don’t have to go get approved for a mortgage or get approved for a loan.”
And that was $50,000 less than just what they said, the least they’d take is 300, and Chaffee, they accepted it. Boom, no conversation. They accepted it, $50,000 less. So as is written down here. They really don’t know. I think they may have really thought that in their head, they may not have been playing any games, but when you’ve got an all-cash offer offered to you and you can have all that cash in 7 days. I mean, that will affect the way you think. Right, Chaffee?
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:18:57
Absolutely. I mean that’s a $50,000 lesson right there, right?
Jay Conner
00:19:00
Exactly. Exactly. So the takeaway from that for me is, if you want the property, make the offer, period.
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:19:12
Let me add why I think that’s also very important is that before you even get to the conversation with the seller, Jay, a lot of students that I’ve talked to that have trouble or challenges finding deals always tell me, like I asked him, “How many offers did you make?”
And they’ll say like, “2 or 3.” I go, “Why haven’t you made more offers?” And they’ll say, “Well, the numbers don’t make sense.” And so that’s a wall for them, right? That’s a mental wall that says they look at the numbers from the MLS or the lead sheet or wherever they got that lead from and say, well, you know, it just doesn’t make sense. Like, they want more, it doesn’t meet the MAO, the maximum allowable offer, or it’s above that. So it’s not a lead, let me just throw it away. And regardless of what the numbers say, if you just make the offer, according to what your numbers should be, you’ll be surprised at how many people come back and counter the offer or start that negotiation process. Or as you said, Jay, just take it because they want out.
Jay Conner
00:20:17
Exactly, and there’s an art to making the offer as well.
So we’re going to make the offer, but we’re also going to justify the offer. Many times we will share my formula that I use with the seller. Now I say, the math is what makes the decision and what we can do. And we just get the white elephant out of the conversation, like right up front. In fact, the sellers that I was visiting with this past Friday, I sat down with them for two hours, I still make offers myself. I enjoy visiting people. So I’m sitting down with these people. And so I knew what their number was and we were $30,000 off. And so I had already gone through the house and looked at the repairs that they needed and etc.
And I told them right up front and I said, “Look, I think we’re going to have to work something out,” but I’ll tell you it doesn’t work out all the time. We call that the ‘takeaway,’ right? But I just get the white elephant out of the way by saying, you know what, unless this is a win for you and a win for her husband that was sitting there as well. And this is a win for both of you and a win for me then I don’t want to be a part of it. I don’t want to be involved in any transaction where everybody is not winning. And for everybody to win, all of us have got to give a little bit, too, for that to happen for a long time. So I justified the offer by actually sharing the formula and the math.
I don’t want to come across as though I am just like pulling some figure out of thin air and just trying to make an extra $30,000 and be some greedy real estate investor. There’s an actual formula to where this comes from and I actually gave him a choice. And one I’m gonna bring up now is not on the A-ha moments, but we talked about it at lunch and that is, I gave them multiple offers. I gave them a choice. And quite frankly, I was happy with whatever choice they took, I said, “Look, I can buy this property.” Of course they never heard of the subject to the existing note, nobody’s ever heard of it. So you gotta like, dumb that conversation down, but I said I can pay you all cash, or I can give you $10,000 more if I buy it from you with what we call,
“subject to the existing note,” or “subject to,” as most real estate investors. And they immediately took the 10,000 more. That’s what they had in their- at least these people were current. I mean, they got fantastic credit. So just to make sure everybody understands, Chaffee, tell our audience and listeners and viewers here, what do we mean by buying a property, subject to the existing note?
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:23:21
So when we say “buy, subject to the existing note,” which is not something that you would actually say to the seller. You’re not going to say I’m going to buy your property subject to the existing note because that’s right over their head, right? So basically they have a mortgage on that property with the bank or with a credit union or some institution. And all you’re going to do is you’re going to make their payments for them.
So they’re not getting rid of that loan, instead, you’re just gonna pay those payments as they come on a monthly basis and they’re going to transfer the title of the property to you. So you’re going to own the property and make payments as if it was your loan, except the loan stays in their name. So that’s the only thing. You’re making their payments and you’re taking over the property and they can go on their happy way and live their life. So they don’t have to worry about those monthly payments anymore. And oftentimes Jay, with “subject to,” with the strategy that you use, if somebody is behind on payments, you’re actually helping them fix their credit because you’re making those on-time monthly payments. Now, in this case, they were on time. So you don’t have to do that. And as long as you continue to make those payments for them, that’s still helping their credit build up because that’s a loan on their property being paid on time
Jay Conner
00:24:38
Yeah. So they are actually getting in this transaction that I’m talking about, they are actually getting about $34,000 more than their payoff. So I’m buying it to the existing note, making the payments on that outstanding balance until I find a buyer and cash out. So the difference that I’m paying them, I explained to them, you’re getting the same amount of money in your pocket. Whether I pay all cash and pay off your mortgage, or if I buy it, this is what I call Option B and explained to them how “subject to” works. You’re still getting the same amount of money in your pocket. It’s just a matter of whether I’m going to be paying off your mortgage right now. And so what else am I going to do on this deal? I’m buying it, set it into the existing note, and then I’m going to borrow private money in a second position or a junior position, and use that little bit of private money to go ahead and give them their cash when we close on it.
One A-ha moment that I’ve read on here is they just made a statement that they heard me say to a lot of them all the time. And that is you can make really big money in this business in a very, very small market. So what’s the population of where you and your family live up in the Chicago area?
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:26:21
There’s about 8 million people in the city and the surrounding areas.
Jay Conner
00:26:26
Yeah. So he’s at 8 million. So me and Carol Joy are here in 40,000, so we did 2 to 3 deals a month, even when it’s become more challenging now to find deals in the market that we’re in.
But as I said, we do 2 to 3 a month, and we’re still averaging all this $70,000 profit per deal. Well, let’s fill up under contract that I’ve been telling everybody about. The after-repair value is right around 300,000 and I can put maybe $5,000 in this house. It’s already been totally rehabbed. There’s a little bit left upstairs. Well, here’s the math, I’m buying it for 160,000. It’s worth right at 300. And all I got to put in is about $5,000. So I didn’t have to take that to the committee to get the approval on that one.
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:27:35
Let me just repeat that so everyone listening understands, Jay, is that these individuals are current on their payments and the house is worth about 300 after repair. And they’re willing to sell it to you for 160 and they’re allowing you to take over their payments.
And is that a real deal, Jay? Do those kinds of deals exist?
Jay Conner
00:27:59
Well, I’ll be able to show you the contract. I’d be able to show you the deed this coming Monday. But this is not an out of ordinary deal by any imagination. One question someone may be thinking right now is, well, why would somebody trust me to make their payments and give up all that equity? Couldn’t they put the house in the multiple listing service? They could, even though it still needs some repair upstairs. But I always ask people, “How did you know where to find us?” And we did marketing consistently everyday. We do Facebook ads. We do Google ads. We do direct mail to people that are behind and in foreclosure, et cetera. So I asked this lady, I said, “How did you find me?”
She says, “We’ve been living here for 28 years and we know what you do.” I mean, if you live around here, you’re going to see my face and you’re going to see my marketing on Facebook. And so she’s “All I did was I just went to Google and I Googled ‘Jay buys houses.’ ” There it was. But back to the question, why would someone be willing to do what we’re doing? Well, people do things for their own reasons. Sometimes you’re not even actually sure, but since I sat down with these people for two hours, I know why. The husband is not in good health and it’s like a hundred degrees here. He’s been working on this house for over a year. And he came in from the heat last week and his wife is worried sick that something’s going to happen to him.
And she’s going to be stuck with the burden of this house. And she tells me that she tells me that multiple times. She says, “I just don’t want to have the risk of being stuck and having the burden of this.” And in fact, on this “subject to” things they never heard of, I said, “Well, you get with me giving you $10,000 more, option B way,” I said, “The only thing you have to decide is, are you going to trust me to make your payments?” And I said, “Why wouldn’t I make your payments? I can’t sell a house and fix it up and all that if I’m not making your payments, right? I don’t want the bank to take it away from me, particularly when I’m getting ready to put this rehab money in it.”
So the short answer to the question, “Who would be willing to sell their house this way?” And the short answer is, “A motivated seller.”
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:30:46
And that’s the key. So I hear it all the time, Jay, is that, “No, I don’t. I can’t find these deals out there. No one will ever sell me these properties.” And the reason is that you’re talking to unmotivated sellers. Most of them are For Sale By Owner because they’re too cheap to hire real estate agents. So they’re not motivated. They just want more money and those, I think For Sale By Owners, you can definitely find some deals with them. If you find the right For Sale By Owner, only is you have to filter through a whole ton, a lot of them. And I think that it’s good practice for you to learn how to speak to people and just realize you want marketing channels in place to get those motivated sellers contacting you so that you don’t have to go out there and talk to a thousand people for you to find the 1 or 2 motivated sellers from those FSBOs out there.
Jay Conner
00:31:40
Exactly. Well, Chaffee, we are about out of time. So I’m going to let you wrap it up with parting comments and final thoughts.
Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen
00:31:48
Parting comments is – Go out there. Don’t be afraid to make offers. Find somebody who you can resonate with, who you like, who has a system and a process that can help hold your hand to do this business and show you how to do the things that you need to do. Unlike me, when I first started, right? Find somebody that’s going to teach you this business so that you can do this business and it can allow you to change your life and live life with the passion that you want or do the things that you’re passionate about. Because, you know, I hear a lot of people all the time, Jay. I’ve watched 30 hours of YouTube videos every single week on how to do real estate.
And I hadn’t done a deal, right? Well that’s because you don’t have somebody like Mr. Jay Conner telling you, guiding you, teaching you step-by-step, what to do and how to do it. You’re watching a thousand different videos that tell you all different things. So you’re either going to pay through the school of hard knocks and learn through mistakes, or you’re going to find somebody and go through and hire a good mentor or coach that’s going to show you how to do this business and do it successfully. And it’s going to be a lot less headaches. So you can do this business, just find the right people to work with and it will change your life.
#Jay Conner#Private Money Lender#Real Estate Business#Real Estate#Real Estate Investing#Real Estate Investor#Real Estate Profit#The Private Money Authority#Flip Your House
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The Post
From a Tumblr anonymous prompt: “ Prompt for AU where Mulder is an investigative reporter and Scully is a Pathologist. They bicker and work together to get to the bottom of mysterious deaths and fall in love along the way. Scully is engaged to Ethan, Mulder's competition, but she is not happy or aware that he is cheating on her. Bonus points for angst, fluff, and smut.“
1.
“You can’t tell anyone I gave this to you,” she said, and he had a sudden almost-psychic sexual flash of his cock splitting the soft autumn fur at her center. Of her head thrown back, her sharp little incisors gnashing at the air.
He shook his head to clear it of the indecorus fantasy.
“The Post protects its sources, Dr. Scully,” he said, and took the envelope from her, his fingers brushing the skin of her hand as he did so. He was certain he saw the soft hairs of her wrist turn to goose flesh.
She turned her head away, offering him her profile, a soft rise of color high on her cheekbone.
“Ethan Minette is my fiancé, Mr. Mulder,” she said quietly, not meeting his eye.
He nearly staggered back, the past six weeks running like a movie montage on hyper speed through his mind. Minette—on the City Desk at the Times—handing cash under the table to a beat cop on K Street; the Trojan horse on Mulder’s computer, his own scoop running in the Times an hour before the Post went to press; Minette’s hand sliding down the hip of a White House aide before disappearing with her into the coat check room at The Palm.
“I assure you,” he said, scuffing the leather bottom of his shoe on the cold floor of the morgue, “not a whiff. No one will be able to trace this information back to you.”
“Thank you,” she smiled shyly, ducking her head, a lock of copper hair pulling loose from her ponytail to whisp along the delicate line of her jaw. He had to resist the urge to finger it softly back behind the shell of her ear.
Instead he raised the envelope to his temple in a salute, nodded at her and moved toward the door of the autopsy room. He turned back to her when he was within its frame, and she looked up to meet his eye, the glacial blue of her own piercing something deep inside of him.
“It was nice to officially meet you,” he said, and she smiled again.
“Oh, nothing about this was official,” she said, and he huffed a laugh and stepped away, the metal door sucking shut behind him.
2.
He was waiting outside the morgue door when she walked out, paying no attention to her surroundings, her head making a mental list of groceries she needed to pick up on the way home. She was so startled that she had her fist around her pepper spray before she recognized him, holding up a staying hand under the orange soda glow of the street lights, his eyes all apology.
The morgue door had only clicked shut when she heaved a relieved sigh.
"Oh," she said, "it's you." The night was cold and dark around them. It was February; the ugliest time of year in DC.
He smiled at her in the half light and it took her a moment to notice that he was holding out a newspaper toward her in his other hand, the thick stack flopping down as he lifted his arm so that she could read the headline: EVIDENCE SHOWS MASSIVE COVERUP, it read, and she snatched it out of his grip.
"You went to print?!" she asked excitedly. It had been weeks since she’d tipped him off. He nodded.
"Hot off the presses," he said.
She skimmed the article under his byline, reading as fast as she could.
"God, I hope this takes them down," she muttered, still reading, "I hate dirty cops." Her pulse was thrumming.
"It will," he said with confidence, and then shifted a bit on his feet. "Though... it may take your fiancé down with them."
She steeled herself. She'd suspected this was coming since before she'd called Fox Mulder's extension at the Post. So it was true, then. Ethan was in on it. All for a fucking story.
"So be it," she said, and his eyes softened.
"You okay?" he asked. His breath wafted above their heads in a white vapor and something about the softness of his eyes and the wet glint of his generous lower lip made her forget her nerves.
"Yeah," she breathed. "Can I... buy you a drink to celebrate?"
He appeared as surprised as she was by her invitation.
"I know a great place," he said, delighted.
3.
They burst through his door connected at the lips, her hands running over his shoulders to cleave off his suit coat and he stumbled backwards over it as it hit the floor. His blood was singing on a high of lust and gin and the exquisite poetry of her; the Roman cut of her nose, the amber glint of her hair, the way her teeth caught on her s’s.
The slam of the door behind them brought her up short. She pulled back as if surprised to find herself in his apartment, though she'd been the one who'd leaned into his ear at the bar and hissed "take me back to your place," her breath smelling of whiskey and lipstick. She'd been all hands and lips and teeth in the cab.
"You okay?" he asked for the second time that night, out of breath, practically panting, the front of his pants tight.
"I'm--" she started, "I never do this. I'm sorry, I -- I never do this."
"Hey," he said gently, "we don't have to -- I don't expect -- do you want to sit down?"
She nodded, looking shocky, and he led her over to his couch and then slipped into his kitchen, checking every cup and mug in his sparse cabinets until he found one that looked perfectly clean. He pressed the glass into her hands, the ice clicking gently into the sides. He sat on the floor next to the couch to give her space, crossed his legs and tried not to think of his aching cock.
"Ethan is --" she began, "we've been together since high school." She was talking to her lap, half the water chugged before he even sat down. Her blouse was still untucked from when he’d pulled it out of her pants to run a hand over her silk-clad breast in the cab and she was fingering the gold engagement ring on her left hand-- it was an antique-looking thing, something he couldn't see her liking, though he admittedly barely knew her at all.
He nodded at her, wanting to reach a hand out, but opting to rest his arm along the edge of the sofa instead.
"He's cheating on me," she said, a statement. Mulder knew it to be true, but it seemed too self-serving to say anything confirming it, and so he stayed mum. “But we’ve been together so long, and I didn’t want to believe it. And now that I know he’s in on this…” He reached out and touched her knee lightly, and her eyes sharpened. “Tell me something about yourself,” she went on, her voice dropping an octave, “something that no one else knows.”
And so he told her about his sister. About his years-long search for the truth. They talked and talked as she slowly melted into the sofa, her legs stretched out and almost touching him, her head propped up on her elbow.
Finally, she blinked slowly down at him.
“I still feel kind of drunk,” she said, and then yawned.
“Take my bed,” he said, rising to quickly change the sheets. “The bathroom is just over there,” he nodded toward a door. “There’s a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.” He disappeared into the bedroom before she could decline.
She walked through his bedroom doorway on silent feet just as he was shoving the last pillow into a fresh pillowcase. He hugged it to his chest and made his way to the door, smiling at her shyly as he passed. She grabbed his arm gently and he paused, looked down into her sharp starlet eyes. She smelled of toothpaste and faded perfume. Her face had been scrubbed clean.
“Thank you, Mulder,” she said, and let go, her touch practically burning his skin.
4.
She called him three weeks later at work, asked him to meet her for lunch. They sat in the cavernous Les Halles in the District, at a middle table where Mulder kept getting bumped by people making their way to the restroom. The air was filled with the clatter of silverware on plates, a constant murmur of business talk, the expediter calling orders in the kitchen. She wanted to apologize to him.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, before the words were even halfway out of her mouth. “If anyone should apologize, it should be me.”
He reached out a hand and brushed his fingers lightly over the back of her left hand. He noticed her ring finger was bare and stopped short.
“I was in a relationship and — even though I knew it was over, I should have never -- I stuck my tongue down your throat before you finished your second drink,” she said, blushing, but with a smile.
“Say what you will about the former,” he said, reaching for his sweating water glass, “but don’t you dare apologize for the latter.”
She leaned back in her chair and signaled for the waiter. As the man walked away with their orders, Scully leaned forward, her elbows on the table, fingers laced over her plate.
“Detective Cho came to our apartment as Ethan was packing up his things last week,” she said, attempting to keep a cheeky smile from her lips. Mulder’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, though he wasn’t sure which part of her statement surprised him most. “The DA was with her,” she went on, finally cracking a grin.
“You think Ethan will cop a plea?” Mulder asked excitedly, half his brain already on the phone to Skinner, his editor, the other half already writing the story.
“Take out your notebook, and I’ll tell you everything,” she said.
5.
Mulder was on the steps of the courthouse eating a street hot dog when she came clicking down them in her best pumps. She’d been called as a witness in many cases in her life, but never before one in which one of the accused was somebody she had once loved.
She still felt shaky and overdrawn, but just the sight of his sable hair, his strong profile against the sidewalk, settled her nerves.
They hadn’t seen each other in months, but had taken to talking on the phone in the late evening, initially about the story and the case, eventually dropping any pretense and talking just to hear each other’s voice. It had gotten to the point where if she didn’t hear his low timbre each night before bed, she’d have trouble sleeping.
He turned when he sensed her and stood when he saw her, his face blossoming into a pleased smile.
She stopped two steps above him, which made them the same height. His eyes looked mossy in the sun, his lashes long sweeps along his skin.
“The courtroom smells like a Pulitzer,” she said, “I’m surprised you’re not in there.”
He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his overcoat and shrugged.
“And miss a day like this?” he said, the sun glinting off his hair as off a robin’s wing.
“You know, I really thought a sharp wit like you would come in with a line like ‘the real prize is out here,’ but I guess I lobbed the softball a little low,” she teased.
He smiled, shrugged again.
“What can I say?” he said, “I like the high ones.”
He had a smudge of mustard on the edge of his mouth, and she reached out and wiped it slowly off of him with her thumb, the scrape of his five o’clock shadow rasping.
She had a sudden almost-psychic sexual flash of his lush mouth opening wetly over the rise of her mons, of his long, warm hands running slowly up the back of her thigh, could practically feel his low, satisfied moan flushing up her skin.
She blinked away the fantasy but held it in her mind, smiled and reached for his arm, coming down the steps until she was even with him and he turned to walk with her.
“So it’s done then,” he said, finally pulling his hands from the depths of his coat pockets and reaching out until his hand was resting on the small of her back. “Can I buy you a drink to celebrate?”
She smiled into the sunshine and leaned into his touch.
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Tonight I watched all of He-Man: Revelations and most of Centaurworld (I watched the first three episodes like, a week ago?) and I have ... opinions. (And it’s 4:37am, might as well share them while they’re fresh!)
(Warning, this got very long and ranty, sorry for stretching out your dashboards if that’s even still a thing anymore?)
He-Man was entertaining, but it did feel like (as someone with like, less than a passing knowledge of the characters) someone’s super-angsty fanfiction more than like ... a continuing series. They killed off multiple well-known, beloved characters, to drive home the point of how SERIOUS and how HARDCORE this series is, and instead it felt like being a little kid in the 80s watching Optimus Prime get murdered to sell more toys. Like, WHY DID THEY DIE? Oh right, to show the viewer how SERIOUS the bad guys are! And to give the other characters things to angst over, to show you they’re no longer just shallow 80s muscle man stereotypes to sell toys! But then you gotta wonder, where will they go from here? Who’s even left to continue the storyline? Is it still He-Man if half the supporting cast is dead?
Like I said, I’m not a He-Man fan by trade, but aside from the pointless murder, it did seem like it delved into the backstories that a lot of people have probably wanted since the 80s, and it made some very interesting points. So, hey, maybe it’ll be beloved by its fans! And it was very entertaining, especially as someone who wasn’t a childhood fan so I didn’t have a lot of nostalgia that I had to watch die. It doesn’t end on a happy note, there’s definitely the ‘what if the villains WON’ theme going, so maybe my opinion will be less dour when the next part comes out. (I did like that it focused more on the female characters, which was a very unexpected change, and in that aspect I felt it was very well written; that could explain why I’ve heard other screechingly negative feedback elsewhere online, heh. He-Man fans probably don’t appreciate the heavy preference paid to Teela.)
Centaurworld was ... well, I watched the first episode with my mother, which was a Huge Fucking Mistake. I heard that it was a thrilling combination of something akin to Adventure Time and a more serious cartoon like Avatar, and instead I got 10 minutes of that, and then 16 minutes of continuous ass, fart, and poop jokes, combined with a couple of great tunes and a lot of tuneless recitative style “songs”.
If you follow this blog, you probably know toys; you know the Poopsie Surprise toys? The ones which were so obsessed with uncomfortably sexualized poop/fart/barf references that entire scholarly articles were written about the sexualization of children with scatology-themed toys? Yeah, that’s what Centaurworld felt like, almost the whole time. Like just ... an uncomfortable amount of poop/butt/fart “jokes”, to the point where it felt like it had to be one of the writer’s fetishes. Like, it was clearly not funny, and the main character is clearly uncomfortable with it ... and it just keeps going.
I say jokes in scare quotes because jokes are supposed to be funny, and a lot of Centaurworld just wasn’t funny. You could tell it was meant to have jokes, but it was very much dated early-2000s type humor, I want to guess? The kind where it’s not so much ‘setup-punchline’ but the more ‘awkward reference awkward reference awkward reference drawn out wooooord’ type of “jokes”. And most of those “jokes” were just - you guessed it - drawn out references to butts, or farts, or some combination of the two. I felt like an aged boomer watching it. I like to think I’m hip and with the times, but it felt like it should be aimed at a middle schooler - but like, an oversexualized middle schooler? It was uncomfortable to say the least. (One character talks to his farts, claims they talk back to him, and he addresses them as ‘Daddy,’ while another character expresses how uncomfortable that is, and implies he has “issues” to unpack. Because that’s hilarious, I guess?)
Centaurworld did, beneath the heavy layer of scatology, have an intriguing storyline. A warhorse from a LOTR-style world is thrown into a wacky Adventure Time-type land made up of silly centaurs, and has to try and find her way back home. It was thrilling at times, if you could slog through everything else that beleaguered it. There were some really good jokes! But I couldn’t quite muster up a laugh, because I was still wondering when the next butt reference would sneak in. After ten terrible jokes, the one good joke couldn’t manage to lift me from the depth of despair I’d sunken into. It really only felt like the show got ‘tolerable’ around episode 7 (out of ten!!!!), which was an episode heavily focused on cats. (Which, again; wasn’t the internet very much about LOLCats in the early 2000s?)
If six episodes of a ten-episode series is nigh-intolerable, is it a successful show? Should you bother watching something that is 60%+ garbage? (And DON’T FUCKING WORRY, the poop/butt/fart jokes continued UNTIL THE FUCKING FINAL EPISODE.)
I suspect that, if there was a “goal” for all of the fetish stuff (beyond fetish stuff for fetish sake), it would be to illustrate to the viewer how uncomfortable the main character feels in this strange new land, and for us to share in her discomfort. Which, fine, sure! Secondhand embarrassment is definitely a trope. But the sheer uncomfortable volume of the poop/butt/fart jokes clearly went way beyond mere discomfort, and veered into ‘why is this coming up so much, is someone getting off on this?’ territory, at least for me. A couple butt jokes an episode, fine, okay. Entire five minute bits devoted to farts and butts? Entire songs about butts? I start questioning why it’s such a beloved subject for you to write about.
Plus, and I may be reading into this too much, but several of the only Black-coded characters felt racist. I’m talking neck-snapping, tribal body paint type racism, although only one got the exaggerated “soul” type music to sing, which I guess is a relative win? (Waterbaby and Judge Jacket, if you’re wondering who I’m referencing. One of them is a literal hippo centaur, giving us shades of Madagascar.) It wasn’t obvious, but combined with everything else, it felt ... bad. (There are multiple other nonwhite voice actors who aren’t stereotypes, so maybe it was just a bad case of ‘trying to represent different culture while being clueless white people’, who knows?) There was also some classic fatphobia, with one of the villains being shown as a fat neckbeard collector/nerd. Wasn’t that relevant in - wait for it - the early 2000s? They redeem themselves very slightly by having maybe two other characters who are visibly fat, but one of them is also viewed as an antagonist.
Anyway, I was disappointed enough with the show to feel like I should say something, so - there it is. Centaurworld did have some good moments, some lovely songs, and there was some really heartwarming and tender character development that I liked, sandwiched between huge swaths of discomfort. There might be a season 2 (there shouldn’t be, LOL) and hell, I will probably suffer through it because I want to see what happens to them. But I can’t recommend that anyone else do the same, in all good conscience. It’s not good. It’s just not. But if you have 5 hours to kill, there’s worse stuff out there?
If you want to watch one episode to see the best of the series, I recommend episode seven, “Johnny Teatime's Be Best Competition: A Quest for the Sash.” It’s themed after the CATS musical, and the extended number at the end gave me shades of MLP or Fashion Star Fillies. (I found an official clip of the song posted here.) There’s also other lovely songs in the series, but you’d have to suffer through entire bad episodes to see them. The lovely “You’re Okay” shows up in the very first episode, so if you’re curious give that a watch... just be aware it never gets better, only worse.
This series genuinely upset me, because I wanted it to be something much better, and there were glimpses of it; you just had to try and close your eyes to the obsession with butts and farting to see pieces of what it might have been.
One notable fact that I thought was kind of like ‘wow, oof’ was that Meghan McCarthy, of MLP:FiM fame, was a story editor for Centaurworld. And considering how MLP went downhill in later seasons, I gotta say I’m wondering if there’s a commonality there. Maybe her fetish is bad writing? There’s worse fetishes to have, AS CENTAURWORLD CLEARLY DEMONSTRATES.
#ponyguru chat#in which I ramble#in which it's 4am and I ramble lmao#OH GOD I HAVE A 4AM RAMBLE TAG OKAY TIME FOR SLEEP TTYL ALL#long post#VERY long post
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When You're In The Pocket
(Image: https://shaylaraquel.com/blog/gsk )
I have been reading through Michelle McNamara's blog, True Crime Diary. Around 3 am, I found this gem in a blog titled, Criminally Underreported (Date Published 12.09.07):
"An important part of True Crime Diary’s mission is to care for neglected cases by reexamining them and making them known."
McNamara speaks to the media driving interests by availability, while allowing other cases to go unsolved because the public simply did not know about the story. This seems to drive her selection of cases discussed. And what a rich layering of discussion it is.
Michelle McNamara, left and former deputy editor of LA Magazine, Nancy Miller.
Image: https://www.lamag.com/citythinkblog/michelle-mcnamara/
This appreciation of underreported cases brings an open, earnest examination of possibilities. Some, we now know, were not true connections. For a true appreciation of McNamara's style, check out another blog entry Date Published 03.17.08 titled, Evolution Of A Story, blog #129:
One of the ways I find stories to write about is by using Google Alerts. I put in key words like “homicide” and “missing,” for example, and Google sends me news stories that relate to those topics. Some stories I delete immediately for lack of interest, or because the case takes place too far away, like Australia, and I don’t think I can add much to it.
Other stories I file away for later; they glimmer with the promise of something intriguing, and I save them for when I have time to dig deeper.
The other day I decided to revisit a brief and cryptic story that appeared on February 26 out of Missouri. I'm glad I did. Pulling on the strand of available but sparse information unraveled a darker, much more complicated story, one that hints at a most unusual serial killer.
The article describes the exhumation of a 47-year-old Missouri man who died in 1992. The man's death was unremarkable at the time, and no autopsy was done. But now the FBI is reexamining his death. The article says the FBI is also looking into at least two other deaths in Utah that might be related.
Another story about the exhumation was similarly vague, but had a more provocative title: "Could Missouri autopsy lead to serial killer with Utah ties?"
The FBI was being tight-lipped, but I knew I could probably connect some dots through online research. It's exciting when you know only certain facts about a breaking case and then go digging, uncovering small, seemingly innocuous details --- a message left on a memorial guestbook, or an announcement about a job change --- that you arrange to reveal an incomplete, but ominous, picture. The most mundane fragments of everyday life can take on new meaning.
That's what happened when I went digging in this case. I won't name names --- the official investigation is still ongoing and has been characterized to me as “sensitive” --- but because I plan on writing about the case again in the future, I’ll share some of what I discovered.
The first thing I did was look up public records related to the exhumed man. I quickly found the name of his wife at the time of his death. I’ll call her Alice.
I noticed Alice has used at least three last names, suggesting several marriages. I looked up her known addresses, and found that sometime after her husband’s death in Missouri she moved to another state: Utah. The focus of the investigation became clearer.
Alice was definitely living in Utah by 1999. A brief announcement in The Enterprise, a business journal based in Salt Lake City, reported in June, 1999 that Alice had been appointed executive director of a local chamber of commerce. The announcement listed her last name as something other than the exhumed husband's, and mentioned that Alice had been a former member of an Iowa chamber of commerce.
Using the last name listed in The Enterprise and the town in Iowa mentioned, I found a listing for a man who is roughly the same age as Alice. Records indicate Alice and the man are related or associated in some way; because she had his last name, I’m assuming it was by marriage. I couldn’t find an obituary for the man, so I’m not sure if he’s still alive.
So it appears that between her husband's death in Missouri in 1992 and her subsequent move to Utah, Alice was married, likely for the second time, in Iowa.
But by 1999 she was in Utah. That year she married a man I’ll call Randall.
An online search of Randall’s name reveals him to be a much beloved man in his 60s who lives about an hour and a half from Salt Lake City. A young boy lists Randall as his inspiration, because, despite Randall’s mechanical heart and amputated leg, he “always lives life to the fullest and makes everything fun and exciting.”
Randall was born in 1943 and served in Vietnam. He had six children with his first wife, and worked for many years as an industrial engineer. In 1976, he joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In 1999, he married Alice.
In 2003 Randall had a heart attack, and was given a Left Ventricular Assist Device. He was a popular figure in his neighborhood, telling everyone about his miracle heart and passing out candy to the children.
I know this because it’s in his obituary. Randall died, “quietly at his home,” on January 4, 2007.
Three weeks later, Alice’s father died. He was 82, and his death doesn't appear at all suspicious. But his obituary does help fill in some blanks about Alice's early years. Her father was in the United States Air Force during WWII, and then settled in the small town in northeastern Missouri where he grew up. He and his wife had Alice and a son, who appears to have died during adulthood. Alice’s father owned and operated a garage in town for nearly forty years.
Alice gave the eulogy at his funeral.
At this point I’m getting a clearer picture of Alice. The leadership role at the chamber of commerce and giving the eulogy suggest a confident, possibly even extroverted woman. I know she had four children and at least two, possibly three, husbands. It appears that later in life she became a Mormon.
I’m assuming the FBI is investigating the first husband’s death in Missouri, and Randall’s, but I don’t know about the third one. It could be the second husband, or some other associate of Alice’s.
Her children appear to be well-adjusted --- married, thriving in various careers, athletic and bright. I study a picture of a sweet, smiling, white-haired older woman holding a child on Alice’s son’s blog. She is attractive and appears in good shape for her age. The accompanying text describes a visit from “Grandma.” The wife in the family refers to her own mother in other pictures, so it's likely this is the husband's mother. This is Alice. She hugs the toddler, looking like a kindly Mormon grandmother. She looks nothing like a serial killer.
But a hint of tension exists. Alice’s son’s wife has posted a photo album of the family's Christmas vacation in Utah. Her sister-in-law, Alice’s daughter, leaves a terse message: “Where are the pictures of (husband's name) side of the family?” There’s no answer.
Two out of Alice’s four children are in medical-related fields, including respiratory therapy and sleep studies. I don’t know why that unnerves me, but it does.
I track down someone who knew the family in Missouri when the first husband died. She tells me his death was a total shock. He was “the kindest man you could ever meet.”
Alice told everyone it was a heart attack and chose not to have an autopsy done.
People always thought that was odd, the source says.
Full article: http://truecrimediary.com/index.cfm?page=cases&id=48
Image: https://www.abc10.com/article/news/how-michelle-mcnamaras-book-renewed-interest-in-the-golden-state-killer/103-545774228
Tenacious, oh, yes. It took a while of digging, but I was able to find the story eluded to in the blog entry. You really get an idea of her excitement level and her thought process. McNamara was home here.
Keyboard crusader: the true-crime writer Michelle McNamara turned cyber-sleuth when she began following leads on the Golden State Killer, a serial rapist and murderer who terrorized California from 1976-86 COURTESY OF PATTON OSWALT
From: https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/how-to-catch-a-serial-killer-from-your-bedroom-diy-detective-michelle-mcnamara-pursued-a-notorious-murderer-without-leaving-the-house-qh6bkk9p9
#michelle mcnamara#truecrimediary#keyboardcrusader#truecrime#truecrimewriter#cyber sleuth#true crime community#truecrimejunkie#latenightsleuth
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I: Meetings and Photos
Word Count: 3,025
A/N: Hello you lovely people of the Queendom on Tumblr. I’m Kit, and... well, you’ve seen me around enough. I wrote Silence is Never Better, The Tower of London, and maybe a few other things you might have seen around. Anyways... Welcome to the first chapter of Out of a Book! I’m very excited to share this with you all. I truly hope with heart and soul that you all enjoy this. If you ever want to leave any feedback, feel free to message me, or contact me at one of these profiles:
Instagram: @/Reinapuff Twitter: @/Reinapuff
If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know! I’m always happy to share my work with others!
Tag List: @boombiotch | @silverpetals97 | @watercolored-lemonade | @aveasorae | @parrlyndreams | @dont-lose-your-queerhead | @mindless-pidgeon
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A rather early Thursday morning in the city of Syracuse, New York. The time’s about 7:15 in the morning.
The sun was over the horizon, but there was little to no noise inside of the apartment. The birds sang their graces and none of this seemed to be the thing to wake up the sleeping woman. In fact, a little snore escaped from her while she slept. Had her roommate not needed to go to work, she would've turned that against the woman in a heartbeat. But of course, this was not out of malice; the two would see the situation being out of fun. Getting up this early in the morning, however, never came easy for the woman that was still in bed. There were two things able to get her to wake up: the sun hitting her eyes, or an alarm of sorts, whether from a phone or a clock.
On this Thursday morning? It was both of those things that would wake her up.
An aggravated Catherine Parr turned to face away from the sunlight, and to reach for her phone. Forcing herself to sit up to turn the alarm off, Parr set the phone down before stretching her arms up and yawning. She noticed the quiet of the apartment about a few minutes from initially waking up. This meant that she was half asleep for a good little bit. “Ah, Lina went to work. Right, I almost forget she’s a teacher sometimes,” she finishes her sentence with a hum. Catalina Aragón, someone she affectionately called Lina, or even just Aragon. She found it fun to have a Spanish roommate, if she was being honest with herself. Made for a more entertaining time some days.
Parr’s never-resting mind began to try to think as to why she had set an alarm so early in the morning. Was it due to the fact she kept waking up too late? Was it a meeting with her publicist? The woman, for the life of her, could not remember. A hand came up to her forehead, rubbing it a few times before pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is bollocks. I can’t remember why I set my alarms so early,” a groan of frustration comes out under her breath. If she hadn’t turned her alarm off so quickly, she might’ve read the reminder that she had put for it. That didn’t matter much. It would come back to smack her in the face later.
Letting her legs swing over the edge of the bed, Parr pushed herself up and on her feet she landed.
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7:45 am.
For Catherine to admit she was ready for the day, she needed one thing, and that one thing was in her hands as she walked back to the small table. Sitting down, the ceramic mug came up to her lips. Coffee. That was the one thing she needed. Her shoulders came up for a moment before they eased up, a smile helping her expression soften up from grumpy-seeming to amused. Opening up her laptop, Catherine softly hummed. A buzz makes her gaze shift from the laptop screen to her phone’s screen, seeing the notification on it. Tapping on it, she allows her phone to open up the email.
From: Cleves, Anna To: Parr, Catherine Subject: Planning for next release
Parr,
Writing a short email to remind you about our 8:00 am meeting for the first steps of getting the announcement of your upcoming book release. If you have any ideas post-conference, be sure to write them down and send me an email with them. We can further discuss those at a later date.
Anna Cleves Media Agent/Public Relations
Bringing her free hand up to her mouth, Catherine Parr forced herself to swallow the mouthful of coffee and then hissed under her breath. “That’s today?! It’s 7:55, I have barely any time to get ready!” Gold star for Cathy Parr. Standing up, the author gave a sigh and quickly disappeared off to the space that was her room in the apartment to at least make herself presentable from the torso up. It did not matter that she was wearing black joggers, so long as she looked like she was ready for a business meeting.
Adjusting her curls so they wouldn’t fall over her face, Catherine paced over to the chair, and sat back down. Now that she had her headset on, and got ready in the nick of time, she patiently waited for the call. There it was. Taking a brief moment to look at herself and adjust her blouse, she answers. “Good morning, Anna.”
“Good morning to you too, Cathy. Glad to see you’re awake at an early time. And you got all dressed up, too! You didn’t have to,” a chuckle. Cleves ran a hand through her hair and gave a smile. “So, we’re looking at what kind of a timeline for the release, exactly?” A slight roll of the eyes, and a shake of the head. “Would’ve been nice to know before I spent the last five minutes panicking over being dressed decently. Anyways, to the main topic. My editor is getting ready to give me the list of revisions made to the draft and then I’m going to once again, go in and edit whatever needs to be changed per her advice. We’re... aiming for maybe... three to six months from now.”
A nod from Anna. Catherine could see the woman looking at a second screen and typing something. Probably notes about all of this. This conversation carried on past 8:30, until it was Anna herself who decided to conclude it. “Sounds wonderful. I’ll be in touch, as per usual. But now that this is over, we can talk about something else, if you’d like.” Although they saw each other maybe once or twice a month in person, Anna and Catherine were quite the close friends–– about as close as Catherine and Catalina, since the two have been roommates since their university days. “Look, I woke up this morning thinking I had nothing to do, and I was just going to text Lina for the grocery list but then your email popped up,” a laugh. The German woman simply shook her head.
“So you got dressed up in a panic, Cathy? I’m shocked.” There was another bout of laughter that interrupted them. Parr found herself nodding. “Of course I did. I’m not going to just answer a conference call from you in a crop top and joggers, and with a messy bun.” The thought of Parr actually having a messy bun made Cleves laugh. “You and messy buns? You’ve got to be kidding me. But good job admitting you’re still halfway in your pajamas.”
Now she rolled her eyes. She rolled them so hard, they could've rolled right off her face.
Catherine shook her head, not being able to help the smile. “Hush. As if you weren't in your own. You’re at home, I know you are!” Her hands went to grab the cup of coffee, and she brought it back up to her lips. She was a bit proud of herself for not having touched it the whole time during the meeting, but now she was craving it. So, she began to drink it, allowing Anna to talk. “Where’s Lina? I’m surprised the woman isn’t around there. Wait, no... never mind, don’t answer that. She’s at work, isn’t she?” A nod. “Yeah, she’s a teacher, Anna. She leaves early. Comes back by dinner time normally.”
It was a safe assumption to say the two were having a fairly good time speaking to each other.
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11:11 am.
“Perfect. That’s the shot,” a southern English voice rang out in the studio apartment. That was the voice of the beauty that took the world by storm: Anne Boleyn. “Tu as un bon oeil avec une caméra, Maggie! Ça a l'air super, vraiment. Go on and head on home, you’re good to go. Have fun with the pictures,” the ruby-lipped woman gave a kiss on both cheeks to her photographer friend, who packed up soon after and headed on out. Sitting down on the loveseat, Boleyn ended up getting herself to lay down and hold her phone right above her face.
“Lame.” She scrolls past one post.
“Seen it.” Another.
“What’s this?” A new post from her favorite author. She’d never admit it, but deep down inside, she was a huge nerd. Anne skimmed over the post, her thumb double tapping the screen. Parr’s posts were always inspirational quotes, or some snippets from her works. This one was just an appreciation post. A smile began to form, with it eventually becoming a light laugh. “She’s so kind! It’s amazing how someone so famous has a golden heart. And I’m sure she knows she’s got the fame.”
Most of the remainder of the morning for Anne was spent laying down, on Instagram, with no care in the world. Truly, the woman was one of a rather mellow personality. And in her spare time, she loved a good book. Deciding she’d had enough of Instagram for the time being, she closed out of the app and opened up another one. Probably delivery or something, considering it was approaching the afternoon and she felt her stomach rumble just a little. “Good thing I decided to get food. Has it really been almost five hours since I ate?”
An early riser, she was. On most days, Boleyn woke herself up at around three in the morning to go work out from maybe 3:30 to 4:45 in the morning. Sometimes she’d extend that work out to 5:45 in the morning. Then it was off to come back home, shower and get comfortable to be in the kitchen and cooking food for herself by around the 6:45 mark. She was always eating by seven in the morning, if not ten minutes later. But she was feeling particularly lazy today, so she’d take advantage of the day to just lounge around.
Standing up, Anne left her phone face down on the loveseat. She didn’t need it to get comfortable. And to be fair, it took her maybe about ten minutes, because the majority of it was her washing her face and making sure to take good care of that. She did however, come out of her bedroom with her glasses on. Now that she was alone for the day, she could just be Anne. No contacts, no sunglasses. Just plain Anne Boleyn. She was a huge nerd growing up, and she knew this to be quite true. She loved herself, and she truly did love her modeling career, but she found it odd to be both a nerd and a super famous model at the same time.
So, she’d keep her personal life to herself. Just like that.
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1:00 pm.
Having finished her lunch around fifteen minutes ago, and having cleaned everything up, Anne found herself at a crossroads during the day. She could take her glasses off, grab a blanket, and take a nice nap. She could go out to the local shops and peruse their inventories. She could get into the kitchen, and do some meal prepping. She had options, but she just couldn’t quite put her finger on what she wanted to do. Shrugging it off, the woman reached for the bookshelf. One of Parr’s books was in her hands.
Anne couldn’t quite tell what drew her into Catherine’s writings. Her books were not quite memoirs, but not quite fully opinionated pieces either. However, they did fall into the non-fiction category. Think of it as a discourse, kind of–– but one full of opinion, experience, and even proven fact. She was a strong woman, and had morals. Anne Boleyn was drawn to that from the first day she picked up a book by Catherine Parr. Laying back down on the loveseat, she opened up the book with a smile.
“A well deserved following,” she’d softly mutter. Her smile became less and less of one until her face was deadpan; a sign she was focused on reading. Word by word and page by page. Killer looks in front of the camera and the world, but a calm and soft appearance in private. This was something Anne showed maybe once or twice, since she has occasionally posted on her Instagram stories a picture or a video with her in her glasses.
One page became another as the time passed. Page to page, eventually book to book. Anne was in one of her reading holes, humming to herself to add a little more entertainment to her already uplifted mood. What broke her out of the daze was her phone ringing. A phone call. Pulling the phone out from underneath her, Anne answered after reading the caller ID. Maggie. Probably an update about the pictures or something.
“Anne! Bonne nouvelle, mon ami! I’ll have these edited by tonight or tomorrow at best. You’ll be right back on a runway soon enough with these,” Maggie sounded excited. A smile came across Anne’s lips. “Besides, you now have an updated picture for events instead of having to use the one from three years ago! Isn’t that great?” Sitting up, Boleyn set the book down and nodded to herself. “Oui. Merci à vous, comme d'habitude, Maggie. You work miracles,” she chuckles. “We’ll talk later. I might just take a nap or binge some Netflix.”
The conversation carried on for maybe five more minutes before Maggie hung up. Quite literally Anne’s best friend from childhood. Put the two together nowadays, and if Maggie had her camera or Anne’s phone in her hand, it was a photoshoot wherever they went. Safe to say that Maggie was responsible for the solid 90% of Anne’s feed that wasn’t selfies and food posts. Count your blessings, they always say. And despite the overwhelming following, Boleyn truly was grateful for what she had. Every single bit of fame that came her way? She was thankful she managed to get that far.
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6:30 pm.
“Cathy? Estoy aquí y traje comida!”
Catalina had shut the door to the apartment as she finished that statement. Catherine peeked from behind the wall, before stepping out into view and smiling. “How was work, Lina?” Setting the food down on the table, one could see Catalina’s eyes roll to the back of her head for a moment. Looks like she had a troublesome day, considering she wasn't too cheery coming in the door. “Don’t get me started on it, Cathy. They were so unruly today for no reason. Part of me wonders if it’s the fact that they’re teenagers or not, but... it was unreal. The few that sit by my desk in the back of the classroom? They kept their cool, and I was glad about that.”
Catalina and Catherine both opened up their respective take out containers.
“Pero, gran y poderoso Señor... it was a nightmare today.”
A snicker came from Parr. “That’s why I don’t teach English. Could you imagine it? I’d be being told I’m spelling stuff like colour and favourite, or honour wrong! I’m English, we spell it differently than the Americans!” That snicker became a laugh. Catalina couldn’t help but laugh herself. “But truly, I’m so sorry you had to deal with a rowdy bunch today. Maybe they will be more mellow tomorrow. One day is just one day, and you have had one bad day... what... once every few months normally?”
“Yeah, it does happen every few months. So, I guess I won’t worry too much.” Catalina just shrugged it off, stuffing a spoonful of rice into her mouth.
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A bite of chicken found itself on Anne’s fork. She was staring at her food, debating whether she should, or should not, post the dinner she so graciously decided to make. One could see the questioning glimmer in her eyes. The voice across the room made her attention snap from the plate to the source of the voice. “Je sais que c'est joli, mais allez, Anne. You haven’t touched your own food!” A bit of a laugh from Maggie. “I know, I know. Look, I just... wonder sometimes, if there’s anything else I can add to it. I always do that after I finish something.”
“I can tell. Just like when we were kids. You ALWAYS wanted to experiment more with your food. It’s almost like you live to be chaos.”
“Well, I mean... have you seen how I look? I’m chaos disguised as a babe. I like to think I’m pretty fit, after all,” there was the laugh from Boleyn. Shrugging it off, she just started to eat. Maggie was the one to continue the conversation. “Speaking of things you like, Anne... has that favorite author of yours posted anything? You always had a bit of a love for books. I saw that appreciation post earlier, and thought that was sweet. Even with the fame she has to her name, she remains humble. D’you know what, Anne? It reminds me of you a little.”
“How so?”
“Because you are the exact same way! Even with this huge following, you... you take the time to reach out and say thank you! You’re quite humble, despite what your looks say about you. I guess that whole don’t judge a book by its cover thing is real. Also, how do you just know how to make chicken taste good? This is amazing! I’m surprised you didn't go to culinary school,” Maggie practically shoved her food into her mouth, knowing that it would make Anne Boleyn laugh.
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At the end of the night, both women could be found doing the exact same thing before they made themselves fall asleep:
Scrolling through their social media pages. One admiring the other’s confidence, and one admiring the other’s intelligence. A fair trade off to it all.
And despite the surprisingly good chaos from earlier on in the day, Anne Boleyn and Catherine Parr both could agree on one thing:
That there would be one day that their paths cross.
#Out of a Book#Catherine Parr#Anne Boleyn#six the musical#six the musical fanfiction#six the musical fanfic#Parrlyn#six ff#six fanfiction
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one word: i want
for @pjofemslashweek day 4: rom com (teen idol - books count, right?) | read on ao3 | word count: 7.2k
ASK ATHENA
dear athena,
i really like this guy but he’s way out of my league and i don’t think he even knows my name. i don’t even care if we go out or anything, i just want to get to know him :( what should i do? thanks!
lonely in love
dear lonely,
if you’re worried he doesn’t know who you are, try doing something that’ll catch his attention. or, if you really wanna solve your problem go up to him and say hi. people are more willing to get to know you than you might think. just be careful not to say anything dumb.
athena
piper didn’t know why she said yes to this, but now she was kind of stuck with it. “this” being showing pop star actress thalia grace around school for two weeks.
piper said yes to most things people asked her to do. she said yes to being ask athena for the school paper, she said yes to joining the mathletes with annabeth and now she’s said yes to babysitting an actress. thalia grace has been a child star since she was little, following in her mom’s footsteps. but that means she’d never been to real school. piper had been called into a meeting last week about it, thalia grace (or thalia grace’s agent/mom beryl grace) had decided to attend high school to help prepare for her new role on some teen drama.
the reason she said yes is likely why they asked her. piper was good at keeping secrets (famous dad nobody knows about, much?) and she was even better at being forced to keep the peace. people loved to ask piper things and they hated to hear her advice. piper had gotten used to telling people what they wanted to hear. being thalia grace’s tour guide was just the newest on the list.
considering most teen drama writers had never been to high school, piper didn’t think it was very necessary. but to be fair, piper wasn’t an actress. when she’d mentioned it to her dad, he’d said it sounded pretty cool. piper was pretty sure her dad was considered an authority on “cool” to some girls her age. piper was also pretty sure none of those girls have seen her dad wipe out on a surfboard. (or maybe they had? some fans were creepy).
which meant monday morning piper was waiting in the office for thalia grace to show up, piper was early because lupa had told her too and piper was not about to mess with the principal. there was a rumour going around that gwen graduated early last year because she was scared principal lupa was going to eat her. piper checked her phone. 8:10. thalia was five minutes late, piper would’ve thought thalia would be on time because her dad was always obsessing over being early and piper had always assumed it was an actor thing. though, to be fair to thalia, thalia’s whole image was very black ripped jeans and self pierced ears. piper’s best friend annabeth was a little obsessed with her, but it wasn’t really piper’s thing.
“hey,” piper looked up. there was thalia grace. or, as she would be going as for the next two weeks, tessa green. someone had striped the blue streaks from her hair, the pixie cut was held back by a pink headband and instead of her signature leather jacket annabeth couldn’t shut up about, thalia was wearing a white sundress. piper blinked. she’d known that thalia was going to be undercover as a regular student so she wouldn’t be mobbed by fans or whatever....but piper hadn’t expected this.
“hi,” piper said. “nice outfit.”
thalia rolled her eyes, “my mom’s always wanted a chance to change my look, and she went a little overboard.”
“cool, well we should be getting to class. we have latin with mr. brunner,” piper told her. piper picked up her bag and pocketed her phone and started walking to class. she looked back to check that thalia was following her. thalia was following, but she was starting to droop. piper had a redbull in her bag for emergencies she’d offer her if thalia started to snore.
most of the class was already there when piper arrived with thalia. she showed thalia the empty seat behind her and turned back to the front. mr. brunner was already in class, but he wasn’t really….there there. last week octavian augur had decided to steal mr. brunner’s horse plushie that he likes to decorate in different historical armour for the senior prank. mr brunner’s been a little...weepy ever since. piper had told octavian and his cronies that it was dumb, but they’d told her it was chill and piper had let it go but...mr. brunner really wasn’t taking it well.
thalia nudged her with a pencil. “what?” piper asked, not bothering to turn around.
“one, are we actually supposed to start learning at eight thirty? that’s disgusting. and two, why is that guy so sad?”
piper sighed, “yes we start school at eight thirty, but we finish at three so it’s fine.”
“three?”
“yeah, and mr. brunner...well the guys in the back row stole his doll last week and he doesn’t know where it is.” piper bit at her lip as she watched mr. brunner stare at his papers. she was a little worried he was going to use them as tissues, and they looked like the last essays they’d handed in. she’d spent six hours on that.
“uh,” thalia said. “that’s fucked up.”
“it’s high school,” piper told her, starting to feel a little guilty. mr brunner bailed her out of any more of thalia’s comments as he finally called class to order, still sniffling.
thalia made it through first and second period, but when piper was leading her to third period she started wavering a bit so piper slide her her unlabelled thermos of energy drink. thalia drank it way too quickly, but piper didn’t judge.
as they walked through the hallways piper’s classmates whispered to each other. at one point, piper was pretty sure she saw one girl squeal something about how much thalia looked like thalia grace. yikes. piper pulled thalia quickly past that.
at lunch, thalia found the coffee machine and met piper at piper’s lunch table with a tray of coffees. piper stole on when thalia was turned around as payment for the day and turned back to her friends. she sat with annabeth and her friends from the paper. drew and grover were both columnists, jason was an editor, percy and rachel did the photography and the comics and reyna was the editor in chief. thalia seemed a little overwhelmed by all the kids, but piper let her be. if she could sing in front of giant crowds she could handle the caf.
annabeth was eyeing thalia, “who are you?” piper sighed. annabeth was kinda the worst at first impressions. besides, annabeth also had a massive crush on thalia grace and piper wouldn’t be surprised if annabeth saw past thalia’s pink-do.
thalia smirked from behind her second cup of coffee, “tessa green. transfer student.”
annabeth eyed her a little longer, but thalia had moved on. annabeth looked slightly miffed at that, but percy distracted her. percy’s crush on annabeth was even bigger than annabeth’s crush on thalia.
thalia elbowed piper. “hey,” thalia whispered to her. “who’s the kid in the corner with the matches?”
piper looked over to where thalia was pointing. oh. leo valdez. leo was...kind of a loser. he was also the exact kind of loser that piper wanted to be friends with, but he was in robotics and not mathletes and piper doubted he’d ever join the paper considering mr d had threatened him last year. he was typically making something that would set the school on fire. going straight to matches was new though. piper relayed this to thalia.
“okay, but why isn’t he sitting with anyone?” thalia asked.
“uh,” piper said. “because he has no friends?”
thalia blinked at her, “why aren’t you his friend then?”
“because this is high school and everyone thinks he’s a loser?” piper said.
“not everyone thinks he’s a loser,” jason piped up. thalia turned to look at jason, and her face started to look a little sick. piper could relate, jason sometimes looked a little too perfect with his whole american boy shtick. but piper could also remember the time he almost ate a battery when they were freshmen, so it wasn’t that bad.
drew detached herself from reyna’s mouth (piper was starting to get especially tired of this, they’d been dating for a year and piper saw way more tongue than she ever wanted too from her half sister) to stare at jason, “yes, jason. everyone thinks he’s a loser.”
“i don’t think he’s a loser!” jason repeated. jason always stuck up for the little guy, piper liked the sentiment but piper thought it was a little unrealistic to live like that all of the time.
thalia seemed to like the vibe though, “yeah. he can’t be the worst.”
drew turned to thalia with a raised eyebrow as she stuck the straw of her ice cap in her mouth. then drew stopped short. “oh,” drew said. “who are you?”
“tessa green,” thalia said, eyeing drew right back. piper wondered if thalia had somehow managed to miss that drew and reyna had just been making out. the two of them were making really weird eye contact so piper turned to face reyna. reyna was reading something on her phone. reyna was almost always reading something on her phone, and piper had made it her mission since reyna transferred to their school at the end of last year to figure out what it was.
annabeth thought piper liked reyna. piper had told annabeth multiple times to shove it. piper just. well, reyna already had a girlfriend so it didn’t matter. piper had known reyna since the fifth grade when they were on the track team together. they’d both done long jump. reyna had been much better and won metals and piper had shared the fancy snacks her dad’s shopper bought when they went to meets. then, at the end of fifth grade reyna had moved away to live with her sister. but she’d been at the paper’s retreat over the summer and had snatched the editor in chief position with her natural leadership and her essays on drive and growing up closeted. the position should’ve been drew’s since drew was the only senior on staff and reyna was a junior like piper, but drew had been at a much fancier journalism camp while reyna was impressing mr d.
then drew had come back for school and she and reyna had gotten together while piper had been stuck on the memory of reyna laughing as she helped piper get out the smores stuck in her hair at the retreat.
piper was still into reyna, but she wasn’t going to steal her half sister’s girlfriend. so instead, nd she very platonically hung out with reyna and tried to look over her shoulder when reyna was on her phone. she really wanted to know what reyna was reading. her current guess was the art of war, but she wasn’t sure.
there was only one almost case of a small fire during lunch, and leo got his matches confiscated by a lunch lady right after. piper watched him as he left. octavian augur might’ve been the best the seniors had to offer this year (mostly because percy and annabeth were to busy mooning at each other while the other wasn’t looking to bother) but piper knew leo was going to come up with something actually funny next year.
the rest of the day passed in a blur. thalia pestered her when she didn’t understand something - which was a lot - and thalia creepily watched jason during algebra.
thalia complained a bit about going to the paper meeting after school, but then she and drew got into a weirdly charged argument about a celebrities right for privacy. thalia argued paparazzis were like mosquitos and drew argued that celebrities chose to live in the public eye. piper wanted to back thalia up, but she’d managed to keep the fact that her dad was a movie star almost completely on the down low and she was a big fan of not hearing people ask her about how hot he was. drew knew and was mostly just playing up devils advocate to flirt, but that was about it.
reyna had asked piper after the meeting if she wanted a ride from her, but she told her that percy and annabeth had her covered. reyna used to drive piper and drew home all the time, but drew had been getting really bitchy recently and the drives home were growing more and more awkward. piper thought it was because she was graduating and going off to university in another state and would have to leave reyna behind, but she wasn’t going to get involved in her half sister’s love life.
percy shot finger guns at her as he raced out of the meeting to pull his car around. annabeth and him weren’t dating yet because neither of them had realized the other liked them back, but he still gave annabeth a ride home everyday and didn’t mind that piper had started to tag along. percy was nice like that. piper really hoped annabeth didn’t find out thalia was thalia and set her thing with percy back a few months.
thalia turned to piper as they exited the school, “thanks for today. i’ll see you tomorrow.” piper smiled awkwardly back and watched thalia go. thalia walked over to the parking lot and got on a motorcycle. piper blinked. well, it looked like thalia wasn’t going completely prep for her stint in high school.
ASK ATHENA
dear athena,
theres this guy and he’s super smart - way smarter than me. i want to talk to him but i’m worried he’s going to think i’m dumb. we share one of our classes and he’s the funniest guy i’ve ever met. funny AND smart. i’m average and boring :/ what can i do to get him to like me?
thanks,
average and boring
dear average,
average is better than below average! just kidding. listen to the kind of jokes he makes and see if you can make one back - google has like a gazillion pages on pages of jokes you can use. you can’t make him like you, but jokes and other common interests are a good way to start. if he’s really worth it, he’ll like that you’re making the effort.
athena
the next day thalia was full of questions. she’d also ditched the headband and the dress. she hadn’t gone full punk, but she was in jeans and flannel and had equipped herself with a very tall thermos. piper had caught a sniff and she was pretty sure it was just shots of espresso.
“so,” thalia said as they watched mr. brunner look over his collection of swords and miniature swords (those ones were for the horse). “do you like that leo kid?”
piper started to choke. when she recovered she shook her head. “no,” she said. “uh. i’m gay and i’m pretty sure he is too.”
“oh” thalia said. “Nice, same. Okay next question, when are you doing something about the horse?”
“i’m not.”
“you will,” thalia smiled at her. it wasn’t even a mean smile. it was just a very annoyingly assured smile. annabeth wore it all the time, so piper was well acquainted with it. “okay final question: what is it that you do on the paper?”
piper turned back around to face mr. brunner, thalia had dropped tissues off on his desk when she’d come in and he was putting them to good use. “i do ad placements,” piper lied. nobody was allowed to know who ask athena was because then nobody would feel comfortable asking anything. and - well piper liked being listened to, even if nobody knew it was her they were talking to. the only people who knew were principal lupa, coach hedge and reyna.
the rest of the week went mostly the same. thalia bothered her about the horse and why she wasn’t friends with leo and seemed oddly fixated on jason. thalia also wrote an article with drew about privacy that piper’s dad liked a lot. piper guess she should have known thalia was a good writer, she didn’t watch any of thalia’s shows or movies but she did have some of her songs downloaded and thalia was a really good songwriter. it was...actually pretty nice.
thalia also made fun of octavian whenever she passed him, which was pretty great. piper was starting to look forward to the day octavian tried to start a fight and thalia punched him in the face. piper had told her guidance counsellor coach hedge that, and he’d agreed. coach hedge was pretty sure that thalia could take him, and will piper wasn’t sure how much that really meant she was starting to notice something.
everyone, besides octavian probably, really liked thalia. mr. brunner had let her hold one of the unsharpened swords (piper had no idea how the sharpened ones were allowed in the classroom), principal lupa had smiled without her scary teeth near thalia, annabeth was starting to get a crush piper really wanted to end, and drew was halfway flirting with her most of the time - which piper was really grossed out by. who flirted with someone else when they were dating reyna.
reyna was reyna. how was drew not totally in love with her? piper was in love with her and she wasn’t even with her. reyna sang along to the thalia grace songs as she drove in a scratchy alto and made the worst brownies but could be coached into make half decent chocolate chip cookies and was the best writer piper had ever met and piper didn’t think she’d ever forget the way reyna had looked at her with complete and utter trust when she’d told her about moving out of her dads and into her sisters and how she much she loved her sister and loved living with her, even though her sister always beat her when they raced.
reyna was also like, the only person who didn’t love thalia. they still got along, but piper though it might be the whole your flirting with my girlfriend and she’s flirting back thing that was holding back their friendship.
everyone liked thalia and the paper was going well and mr. brunner wasn’t crying so much - even though octavian augur had left a ransom note threatening to make his doll bite it if mr brunner didn’t pass all of the seniors - and piper had even done half decent at the last mathletes meeting.
then on saturday the whole “tessa green is the coolest thing ever” train hit a snag.
ASK ATHENA
dear athena,
i got up the nerve to talk to mr. out of my league. i asked him to work on a group project with me and he said yes! but he’s so quiet i’m really struggling to get him to talk to me. the whole point was to get to know each other and he’s still the cutest guy ever but i don’t know how to get him to open up :(
thanks,
lonely in love
dear lonely,
congrats on the group project! you’ve taken the first step so the ball should really be in his court, but if you want to try and encourage him to open up try cracking a joke! if you can get him to laugh you can probably get him to talk to you
good luck,
athena
the mathletes were doing a car wash on saturday. piper didn’t know why, but annabeth had said something about raising money for the bus to regionals and percy coming up with it and then piper had clued in. well, if her best friend really wanted to see her crush without his shirt, piper could kind of get it. she’d been known to go quiet when she saw reyna flex her biceps.
most of the paper had been talked into helping out - which thank god. all of the mathletes gave piper dirty looks when she got a question wrong during practice. someone had decided to ask coach hedge to supervise mathlete meetings (piper thought he had gotten suckered in by the athlete part and then felt to guilty to quit), while coach hedge normally ditched them for the track team he’d been able to show up at the car wash and piper wasn’t sure what to expect. a bunch of mean nerds plus coach hedge plus thalia grace plus the paper.
annabeth had texted piper to show up in a swimsuit and shorts and piper had obeyed, while rolling her eyes at her phone. she was also stuck being the one to bring the speaker, because her dad had bought a top of the line waterproof bluetooth smartspeaker. sometimes, piper wondered what her friends thought her dad did to have all this weird stuff.
considering that piper was told to wear a swimsuit, she should've known that that meant reyna was also going to be wearing a swimsuit. piper had thought she’d had it bad when she’d seen reyna’s biceps, but she’d been frozen when she saw reyna’s abs as soon as she arrived. annabeth had ripped the speaker from her hands and almost spilt a bucket of soapy water on her before piper snapped out of it.
there were way more people at the car wash than piper had expected. it was for the mathletes with the assistance of the paper. it looked a bit like coach hedge had made his actual athletes show up and hold signs and pay for car washes, but there were a bunch of regular students piper never would have expected.
leo had shown up, for example. leo drove a pickup, which piper had found surprising because she’d heard a rumour that leo had gotten his license taken away for illegally tricking out his truck. leo told her that the cops didn’t know, which piper probably should’ve been more concerned about.
instead, she asked leo to show her what he’d done to his car. reyna and piper washed leo’s car as he showed them how he had a secondary horn for fun that spat out randomized animal sounds. reyna didn’t seem to find it funny, so piper was a little confused as to why she was washing leo’s car when drew seemed to be over at a much nicer car with thalia.
“so,” leo asked her after he finished showing her the lights he had in the wheels. “are you and thalia a thing?”
piper laughed, “what? me and thalia?”
“yeah, are you?” piper spun around to see reyna awkwardly holding up a sponge. reyna looked a little sad for some reason, maybe worried that thalia was dating piper and flirting with drew or something.
“uh no, thalia’s not really my type,” piper explained, still confused as to where these rumours where coming from.
“then who is your type?” reyna asked her, biting her lip. piper’s eyes caught on reyna’s mouth, but leo poked her and she blinked.
“uh,” piper said. “i like girls that um. girls that are strong, smart. good writers. bad bakers.”
leo started snickering, and piper kinda wanted to hit him. he’d caught on, but luckily reyna seemed not to realize piper was describing her.
piper looked back to where thalia and drew were washing the car, she was starting to think thalia was the reason there were so many people judging by how there were a crowd of ppl near her asking her to do something. “hey,” leo asked reyna. “how are things with you and drew?” piper winced.
“oh,” reyna said. “we broke up two days ago.”
piper spun around, “wait what?”
reyna looked over at drew and thalia, a strange look on her face. “yeah. drew and i. we ran our time out, i think. we got into a fight on the weekend and it didn’t end well.” reyna shook her head, and brushed her hair out of her face as she turned back to leo’s truck.
piper reached out and touched reyna’s arm. “hey,” she said softly. “i’m sure whatever drew said, she didn’t mean it.” reyna smiled, but her face was hard to read and piper let her hand fall.
leo leaned over and whispered to piper as she stepped back, “what are you doing - ask her out!” piper threw her sponge at him.
and then she heard the worst thing possible.
it was thalia’s music on the speaker. annabeth’s playlists all had something from thalia - piper felt her stomach drop as she turned back to thalia and drew. the crowd around thalia had started to chant something.
“sing! sing! sing! sing! sing!” piper’s classmates called. thalia laughed and hopped back onto the hood of the car and smiled at them all. and then she started to sing along to her own song on the radio like a complete fucking idiot.
annabeth was the first one to clue in. piper knew because she heard the music come to complete stop and when she turned around annabeth had dropped her bucket to the ground. piper looked around the entire parking lot and saw more and more people piece it together. and then they started moving towards thalia. thalia kept singing for a little longer - but then thalia seemed to realize what was going on and she hastily jumped onto the roof of the car she was sitting on as she fumbled for her phone.
piper had seen this happen before. her dad couldn’t go with her to a lot of places, and when they did hang out in public he always dressed very very carefully to try and put distance between himself and tristan mclean. “okay,” reyna said. piper looked back and saw reyna doing something on her phone. “i just called my sister so hylla’s gonna come by with some friends and try and talk some sense into all of those weirdos.” reyna’s sister did something with security, so piper nodded and turned back to the crowds.
there were teachers shoving screenplays at thalia and boys singing love songs and girls asking her to autograph their swimsuits. instead of trying to get her to sing, they were just saying thalia over and over again.
after a few minutes of it, reyna’s sister showed up in uniform with friends, and more importantly - a limo showed up for thalia. piper let out a breath of relief-
and then thalia called her name. “piper!” thalia said, halfway into her limo. “piper get over here!”
piper blinked at her, but leo and reyna shoved at her and she squeezed through the crowds as reyna’s sister helped her through the door. piper watched her friends faces as she drover away. there was no music playing in the limo.
ASK ATHENA
dear athena,
the really smart and funny guy asked me to work on a group project with him! except i keep freezing up when i talk to him!! i looked up jokes like you said, but i don’t know how to say them. he must think im such an airhead :’(
please help,
average and boring
dear average,
you said he’s funny right? next time he cracks a joke, say one back. also - maybe check out the letters from lonely in love? this is starting to sound weirdly familiar.
athena
piper sat on the carpet with her back to the couch in thalia’s apartment. thalia sat down next to her and handed her a glass of water. for a moment they just sat next to each other, staring at the black screen of the television.
“i’m sorry about back there,” piper said. “though, you probably shouldn’t have started singing.”
thalia let out a laugh, “yeah. yeah you’re right. but what are you sorry about?”
“for my friends being freaks?” piper offered.
“it’s fine,” thalia said. “happens all the time.”
piper knew that. it’s why everyone thought she and her dad were homebodies.
“hey,” thalia said, turning to face piper. “you’re different. you’re not as awful as all of those kids in your classes. i’ve never been to high school, but i’m kinda thankful for that now.”
piper frowned at thalia, “they’re not all bad.”
thalia blinked at her, “octavian augur is threatening to murder your latin teachers doll. and no ones saying anything. piper - you could say something.”
piper turned away from thalia and back to the black television screen. she wasn’t surprised by what thalia was saying, she’d been saying it all along. thalia wanted high school to have good fucking people. and she wanted piper to be one of them.
and. well, piper kind of wanted to be one of them too.
ASK ATHENA
dear athena,
i made a joke and he made a joke back! we’ve started actually talking and it’s so so so good, but i don’t know what to do now! i just wanted to get to know him at first, but now that i know him i want to ask him out. how do i let him know i’m interested - or how do i know he likes me back? he probably has lots of guys lining up to take him out
lonely in love
dear lonely,
go read average and boring’s letters. if you two aren’t writing ot me about each other i’m going to be very concerned about the state of unrequited crushes at this school. you both like each other. just ask him to go to the dance with you.
athena
piper went home with a mission in mind. she had her dad’s limo pick her up, just to mess with thalia. thalia had sent her off a little in awe and with an autograph request piper had promised ot fulfill with a laugh. piper wasn’t going to let anyone know who ask athena was anytime soon, but she figured she could let at least one secret go.
her dad took it all in stride, promising her he’d even deliver thalia her autograph in person. her dad was the easy part. annabeth had been blowing up her phone and when she finally answered it was like opening the flood gates.
“how do you think i should ask thalia grace to the dance?” annabeth asked. piper stared at her phone.
“why are you asking thalia grace to the dance?”
“piper! i’ve liked thalia grace forever, of course i’m going to ask her to the dance. wait - do you think drew beat me to it? i saw drew slip thalia her number before thalia got into the limo omigod piper i-”
piper cut her off, “annabeth you liked thalia grace’s music. you’ve been eating at the same lunch table as tessa green for a week and i didn’t think you liked her very much.”
“i. well. i just haven’t gotten the chance to get to know her. what, are you jealous that you don’t have a date to the dance or something?”
piper blinked at that. well, that was a take. she pinched herself so she would know she wasn’t hallucinating. “i’m not jealous. i already have a date. besides, you know who you actually know - and it’s not thalia. you know percy.”
“what does percy have to do with anything?”
“annabeth, percy’s going to ask you to the dance on monday. or at least he was going to. if you were ranting to him about thalia he probably doesn’t think you’re interested.”
annabeth was silent for a few moments. and then she said, hesitantly, “percy likes me?”
“yeah,” piper confirmed, way too tired for this conversation. then she hung up the phone because she wasn’t dealing with that for any longer.
after that, she called reyna.
reyna pulled up to the front of her house with her jaw hanging open. piper waved goodbye to her dad, who was laughing for some reason, and slipped into the passenger seat.
“your dad is tristan mclean,” reyna said, looking her right in the eye. “can you please interview him after his newest movie comes out. that would be the funniest issue we’ll ever print. i’ll get rachel and percy to put together a comic strip on it.”
piper blinked, and then she started to smile. “yeah sure,” piper said. “now can you drive me to octavian’s place?”
reyna dropped her off outside of octavian’s house and piper walked up to the door and rang the bell. after a few seconds the person piper was hoping for answered the door. will solace looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. he was in the year below piper and octavian’s younger step brother. he also hated octavian’s guts.
“hey,” piper said with a winning smile.
“hey,” will said. “uh, are you here for the doll? lou ellen’s in your math class and he said the new girls been bugging you about rescuing it all week.”
“uh,” piper said. will laughed and walked into the house. piper waited on the steps awkwardly, not quite sure what was going on. will came back a few seconds later with mr. brunner’s horse in one hand. in the other hand was a missing pet poster.
“hey i made this up with some friends, we thought it was funny,” will told her as he handed over the doll and the poster. “octavian thinks he lost the doll and has been freaking out for the past few days. can you like, record his reaction when he sees it?”
piper nodded slowly and thanked will. when she got back in the car she stared at the objects in her hand. reyna read over the poster. “huh,” reyna said. “maybe we can run an article about - wait his name is chiron? uh chiron’s return.”
“that was so much easier than i thought it would be,” piper said. reyna laughed at her and pulled away.
PIPER MCLEAN - DAUGHTER OF TRISTAIN MCLEAN - DATING THALIA GRACE?
EXES CHILDREN TURNED LOVEBIRDS
HIDING CELEBRITIES FIND LOVE!
unfortunately, the school paper didn’t get to be the one to break the news on who piper’s dad was. tabloids seemed to have caught on to thalia ushering her into her limo, there was even a picture of it swirling around the internet. some reporters had tried to call them, but her dad had shielded her from most of it. she’d given two quotes that he had approved. the first was, “you’re weirdly interested in a sixteen year olds love life” and the second had been, “yes i’m a lesbian. no i’m not dating thalia. not all teenage lesbians like thalia grace.”
pretty much all of her friends had sent her the clips and screenshots of it. leo had somehow gotten her number and texted her alternatives that involved a lot more swear words he wanted her to use next time. drew had texted saying that she was relieved because siblings shouldn’t share girlfriends. and reyna had called her laughing and they had stayed on the link for a few hours.
it was...pretty great. piper had even gotten out of the mathletes competition which she really hadn’t wanted to go and fail at because they didn’t want all of the extra attention she would bring. she’d been supposed to cover the event for the paper, but percy had happily taken her spot on the bus.
he’d asked annabeth to the dance while singing one of thalia’s songs. it was a song about second choices being just as good and annabeth had kissed him in front of the whole school and then told him very firmly that he wasn’t her second choice.
drew had been a little annoying - she’d texted piper something hearing thalia already had a date for the dance and how she was wondering if reyna would go with her. piper had told her she couldn’t go crawling back to reyna now. and then she told her that she should show up to the dance anyways, because that date wasn’t as sure a thing as drew might be thinking.
drew had left her on read. but the next day she’d been a lot more bearable. piper thought she might be getting the hang of the whole getting people to listen to her for once thing.
and leo was sitting with them at lunch. piper was pretty sure it had been jason who’d invited him - jason was getting a lot of confessions this week judging by the way he and leo were smiling at each other. leo let piper play with his robot and it didn’t catch on fire, but it did eat grover’s empty soda can.
the day before the dance piper made a returned version of the wanted poster, struggled to make clothes for the horse with reyna (apparently hylla and her had done some sewing classes at a community centre?) and placed chiron the horse on mr. brunner’s desk.
thalia wasn’t in the class with piper to see it all go down, but piper smiled and made direct eye contact with octavian the entire time as she was setting up chiron. he stared at her from his seat and didn’t dare to move a muscle. will’s friend lou ellen recorded it all the way including mr. brunner hugging the horse and challenging students to a duel with his swords. piper took him up on it, and laughed when he beat her.
“you know,” he said as he took back the sword she’d used. “i can do more in this wheelchair than you might think. like failing you!” mr. brunner had then pointed the sword at octavian and told him to march to the principal’s office. lou ellen’s video was on everyone's snapchat that night.
at lunch leo was smiling at everyone. “guess who’s hosting a dance protest party?”
“me,” jason said. leo turned and threw a hand on his chest and gasped dramatically. jason just smiled at him. “well it’s true! your mom said no so we’re hosting it at my place since i have a massive backyard.”
leo waved his hand at jason and turned back to the rest of the lunch table, “anyways you’re all coming.”
drew blinked at him, “i’m going to the dance. and so is annabeth and percy.”
leo sighed at her, “i know that drew. you are obviously gonna get it at the dance with thalia grace, but then thalia is going to drive you and annabeth and percy back to jason’s once you all get bored of the rest of our school. you know, all the people you hate?”
“uh,” percy said. “this is all news to me.”
“well,” said jason. “dances suck and i’m ordering cake pops and having a bonfire and thalia’s apparently my missing sister who happened to find me and she wanted to host a party with us so we’re having a party and you’re all coming.”
ASK ATHENA
dear athena,
um. wow. thanks? jason and i don’t really care about anonymity anymore - we’re too busy going out. thanks for letting us know we we were both being dumb. i was lonely in love and he thought he was average and boring but now we’re the cutest couple in school! ask athena verified dating service everyone!
leo and jason
dear leo and jason,
congrats! to the rest of the school, this is not a dating service and you don’t understand how happy i am that i don’t have these too pining in the mailbox anymore.
athena
thalia picked her up for the dance in her motorcycle. thalia wanted to get more use out of it and piper liked the idea of wearing a fancy dress on a bike. her dad was not having so much fun with it all, but the school wasn’t far away so he just watched them leave anxiously after getting pictures.
when piper had been over at thalia’s place on saturday thalia had asked her to the dance. thalia had never been to a school dance before, and she wanted to get as much of the high school experience in a week and a bit as she could. that’s why they were also having an anti dance right after. it was more punk, which thalia liked, and it was at her brothers, which meant thalia got to spend time with the brother she hadn’t seen in years do to really shitty custody agreements.
thalia had asked her as friends, and piper had said yes because thalia was her friend now - somehow - and she didn’t mind doing her a favour. especially if it meant she could see the look on drew’s face. besides, piper had never actually gone to one of these dances before because she’d always been busy at the anti dances with her friends who didn’t get dates until this year.
piper’s classmates were all taking pictures as they got off the bike in front of the school, but piper ignored them. she let thalia throw an arm around her shoulders and they laughed at stupid dresses as they walked into the school. it took thalia about three minutes to ditch her for drew - which was apparently becoming a very real thing and was also apparently completely fine with reyna. piper didn’t really know what was going on there and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
instead, she danced with percy and annabeth and drank gross punch and defaced a couple decorations with grover - who insisted on recycling the broken decorations after - and then they got on the limo and went to jasons.
reyna was sitting by the fire pit on her phone when they got there. piper took a deep breathe, grabbed two cake pops, and sat next to reyna.
“hi,” piper said. “cake pop?”
reyna looked up from her phone and giggled, taking one, “thanks. how was the dance?”
piper shrugged, “it sucked. you weren’t there.”
reyna’s mouth dropped open. “oh.”
“yeah,” piper said, she was a little nervous but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “so uh. i’ve liked you for a while, haha. and um. do you want to go out?”
reyna’s face broke out into a grin. piper had always known that reyna looked beautiful in the firelight, but it was still stunning, “yeah i wanna go out. i’ve wanted to ask you out since we were kids, but i didn’t think you liked me.”
piper stared at her, “i’ve been trying to figure out what you’ve been reading on your phone all year because i wanted an excuse to be next to you when i looked over your shoulder. i’ve liked you too since we were kids.”
reyna started laughing and piper joined in.
“it’s romances, by the way.” “what?”
“i’m always reading trashy romances,” reyna told her. piper stared at her and then started laughing harder, bending over not being able to stop. reyna put her hand on piper’s back and piper did her best to take deep breaths as she calmed down.
as she sat back up they smiled at each other and reyna leaned in and kissed piper’s cheek and they watched the fire. grover and percy were daring each other dumb shit as annabeth watched and one upped them, and thalia and drew were making out and leo and jason were stealing bites from each others cake pops.
piper rested her head on reyna’s shoulders and felt the warmth of the fire on her face.
#pjofemslashweek2020#pipeyna#piper mclean#teen idol!au#rey's writering#why do i keep writing so much!!!!!!
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Vicky Archives #7
LONG SHADOWS - The power of a single scene
Vicky Holmes, the former editor of the Warriors series, has been doing short extract readings on Facebook since the start of the UK lockdown back in March. There’s some really cool anecdotes hidden within some of these videos, so I decided to begin penning them down for posterity and easy reference.
I won’t be transcribing filler, hedging and false starts but I’m including some amount of preamble just to be comprehensive.
#1 Into the Wild | #2 Forest of Secrets | #3 The Darkest Hour | #4 Code of the Clans | #5 Firestars’ Quest | #6 Twilight | #7 Long Shadows | #8 Leafpool’s Wish
---
[Again, there seems to have been some talking before Vicky went live]
-- but we may be deafened by birdsong today. I hope it doesn’t interfere too much with the sound.
So today I’m going to read from Long Shadows, Power of Three book five. Although this was the fifth book in the Power of Three, it contains a scene that inspired the whole arc. When I was coming to Power of Three, I wanted to have a sense of obviously what I was going to write about, where the six books were going. We already knew at the end of The New Prophecy that there were some kits that were supposedly Squirrelflight’s, but they weren’t, they weren’t Squirrelflight’s. They were her sister’s, Leafpool’s, and she was raising them in secret. I dropped hints throughout The New Prophecy that Leafpool was pregnant, and Squirrelflight noticed she was looking a bit plump! If you read New Prophecy again you’ll notice there are little clues there that Leafpool is expecting. Of course they’re Crowfeather’s kits, from the brief moment that she ran away with him.
So I knew that I wanted to have a big reveal in the next book, in the Power of Three, and before I even started the arc, this scene came to me. The scene of Squirrelflight on a cliff, surrounded by flames, forced to reveal the truth, but in a way that would just cause nothing but pain. The scene is, this chapter was from Hollyleaf’s viewpoint, although the next one is from Jayfeather’s viewpoint. Lightning has struck the forest, and there is a great fire around the hollow where the cats live. The forest is burning, and Squirrelflight has rescued the three cats Holly, Lion and Jay, by showing them a secret way to the top of the cliff. They have no idea that Squirrelflight is not their mother, of course, their mum is rescuing and that’s natural to them.
And Ashfur appears through the fog and the fire and the smoke, and they’re trapped, and they need Ashfur to hold steady a bridge, a tree, that they can run along. And there’s something in Ashfur’s expression that Hollyleaf doesn’t like.
Desperately she tried to step onto the end of the branch. At once Ashfur rounded on her, fully conscious again, his teeth bared in a snarl.
“Stay there!” Turning to face Squirrelflight but keeping one paw on the branch, he hissed, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you’d know the real meaning of pain.”
Hollyleaf’s shocked gaze met Lionblaze’s. “He tried to kill Firestar?” she gasped. “He’s mad!”
Determination glittered in Lionblaze’s eyes, and he bunched his muscles for a giant leap. “I’m going to fight him.”
“No!” Hollyleaf fastened her teeth in his shoulder fur. “You can’t!” Her words were muffled now. “He’ll just push you into the fire.”
“Brambleclaw saved Firestar then,” Ashfur went on to Squirrelflight. “But he’s not here now. He’s not here—but your kits are.”
Squirrelflight’s eyes blazed. For a heartbeat Hollyleaf thought she was going to pounce on the gray warrior, but she knew that exhausted and in pain, her mother would have no chance. Squirrelflight seemed to realize it, too. She drew herself up, head high; she was trembling, but her voice was clear and brave.
“Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire.”
“You don’t understand.” Ashfur looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time; his voice was puzzled and petulant. “This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits . . .” He looked through the flames at Hollyleaf and her brothers, his eyes narrowing to dark blue slits. “If you watch them die, then you’ll know the pain I felt.”
The flames crackled threateningly closer; Hollyleaf felt as if the heat was about to sear her pelt into ashes. She edged backward, only to feel the edge of the hollow give way under her hind paws. The three of them were pressed tightly together, so close that if one of them lost their balance, all three would be dragged off the cliff. Hollyleaf couldn’t control the trembling that shook her whole body as her glance flickered between the cliff and the fire.
Jayfeather was crouched close to the ground, looking tinier than ever with his pelt slicked f lat by the rain. Lionblaze’s claws were unsheathed, glinting as the lightning flashed out again, but the tension in his haunches didn’t come from preparing to leap at Ashfur; it came from the effort of keeping himself on the top of the cliff.
Squirrelflight raised her head, her gaze locked on Ashfur’s crazed eyes. “Kill them, then,” she meowed. “You won’t hurt me that way.”
Ashfur opened his jaws to reply, but said nothing. Hollyleaf and her brothers stared at their mother. What was Squirrelflight saying?
Squirrelflight took a step away from them, and glanced carelessly over her shoulder. Her green eyes were fiercer than Hollyleaf had ever seen them, with an expression she couldn’t read.
“If you really want to hurt me, you’ll have to find a better way than that,” Squirrelflight snarled. “They are not my kits.”
The noise of the storm and the fire faded and the only sound Jayfeather could hear was the blood roaring in his ears. He shookhis head, straining to hear what Squirrelflight and Ashfur said next, cursing the blindness that hid their expressions from him.
“You’re lying.” Ashfur’s voice was choked with disbelief.
“No, I’m not.” Squirrelflight spoke softly, but her intensity pierced through the crackle of the f lames. “Did you see me give birth? Did I nurse them? Stay in the nursery until they were apprenticed? No.”
“But—I” Ashfur began, then fell silent. Jayfeather could almost hear the paws of memory racing through his mind.
“I fooled all of you, even Brambleclaw,” Squirrelflight went on scornfully. “They are not mine.”
THE WORST TRUTH
[I’m just expecting the belateded going live at this point]
-- to give it a bit of welly. So that’s the scene that shaped the whole arc of the Power of Three - was that Squirrelflight was going to reveal the terrible secret she’d been carrying, in the worst possible way. [the audio breaks up slightly] I’m not sure this started very well, sorry.
As I said briefly before, this scene came to me before I shaped the whole of the Power of Three. I knew that the truth about the kits would have to come out, but I wanted it to be dramatic, and I wanted it to be the worst possible thing for both Squirrelflight and the kits and Leafpool. And if you remember back in the first arc, I first learned about the challenge of not meeting people’s expectations when someone else - a fellow editor called Matt - suggested to me that Firestar didn’t kill Tigerstar, that in fact it should be Scourge who kills Tigerstar and we would all just feel horrifically upset by it, including Firestar.
So again I wanted to do something that would confound expectations. I wanted to show the length that Squirrelflight would go to to protect these kits. She loves them as much as if she’d given birth to them. She had raised them, after all. That is something very powerful. It is nurture over nature. It’s a cause very close to my heart, the idea of raising a child that is not your own, and I absolutely believe that you do not have to give birth to someone to be willing to give up your heart to them in a moment.
I wanted to demonstrate that Squirrelflight felt the same way, but ironically the way she can do this, the way she can save their lives when Ashfur is threatening to let them all fall off the cliff or burn to death, is by disowning them. I just had this incredibly powerful vision, an image in my head, of a cat standing on a cliff surrounded by fire, saying ‘kill them now. They mean nothing to me because they are not mine’. And by disassociating herself from them, by telling Ashfur that she didn’t care what happened to them, it would be the only way to save these cats’ lives. She would have to denounce them. Not only in front of Ashfur, revealing this secret knowing that it could destroy everything, but in front of the kits themselves. It must have just been horrific. I know it’s only a book, I know it’s a story, I know these cats aren’t real. But in this moment, Squirrelflight is real to me.
When I was coming up with storylines, often I would dream that I was a cat in the forest running alongside them. And I’m sure it’s no secret now to know how much of me is in these books, and this scene, this scene does what I wanted it to do. This scene shows Squirrelflight so desperate to save the lives of these kittens, these kits, that she risks losing their love, their respect, their affection, everything, in order to save them. And of course they won’t analyse that, they never realise that. You know, it sows the seeds for an awful lot of drama, and it destroys Hollyleaf - as we know, she goes on to do something really, really dreadful because she cannot cope with the enormity of this moment. But it is essential that Squirrelflight does it. It is the only way she can halt Ashfur and get them off this burning cliff.
There are a lot of things in Warriors that I am proud of. Lot of things I’m not proud of, as well, because you after all are the best at pointing out my mistakes. But this scene does what I wanted it to do. And I’m very grateful to it, and of course to Cherith for bringing it to life so beautifully.
It might not have escaped your attention that I seem to have missed out The New Prophecy, I haven’t done a reading from that. However, I’m writing an article for the Warriors Hub at the moment which will be about The New Prophecy so obviously I’ll post a link to that when it’s ready. Don’t feel that I’m missing out. But if there is a scene that you would really like me to read and talk about it, please do post in the comments and I’ll see what I can do. I’m happy to do requests. We seem to be in lockdown for a lot longer. It’ll be an absolute joy perhaps to read and talk about some of your favourites as well. Take care, stay safe, bye!
#vicky archives#warrior cats#warriors#squirrelflight#ashfur#hollyleaf#jayfeather#long shadows#not designs
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W: Worlds Apart - Volume 4: Worlds Estranged
Kang Chul X Oh Yeon Joo - Fix-It Fic (T)
Read from beginning or find previous chapters here: Stories
All that’s left to write together is an epilogue.
Chapter 131 - Oh Yeon Joo and Kang Chul Have A Future (1560 words)
On Monday morning, Seok Bum stuck his head into the office and said, "Oh, hey Yeon Joo. Been a bit since I saw you here."
He sat at his desk, and started to write an e-mail, then stopped and peered at her.
"Are you...humming? Did something good happen?"
And Yeon Joo knew she was blushing, but she wasn't ashamed to say, "Yes. My beautiful friend from out of town that you didn't like hanging around Soo Bong is here now.
"Oh, congratulations!" He went back to typing for a minute.
After sending his e-mail though, he rolled his chair over to her and put an arm around her shoulders.
"Really, I'm so relieved to see you happy. We should all go get dinner sometime. I don't resent him anymore, I promise." After a pause he said, "Wait, how did you know I disliked him hanging around Soo Bong?"
"Soo Bong thought it was really funny, at the time."
Seok Bum made a disgusted noise, and wheeled himself back to his own computer. Soon after this, their productivity was again cut short by the appearance of Mad Park.
"Oh Yeon Joo, I saw a file today that made me think of your father. It's another six months before he comes in for his check-in, so I thought I'd see if you were here. How's he doing?"
"He's doing well. Did you see the release about the animated adaptation?" she added with a false air of innocence.
"That studio has produced nothing but saccharine love story comics! Absolutely not!"
"You know the rights have been picked up before, you only have to worry if it goes into production."
"No, no, no. What we need is a gritty drama, a procedural, and scrap the last volume or two. Maybe starring Won Bin!"
"Speaking of the last volume or two, Oh Yeon Joo's boyfriend who looks like Kang Chul is back," said Seok Bum, forever sowing the seeds of chaos. "That's why she's looking so well today."
Unexpectedly, Supervisor Park gave her a close look, and said, "Well, I'm glad to hear that. You've had a tough time. What's his name?"
"Kang Chul."
"Funny," said Mad Park. "Just as well."
"Why is it just as well?" Seok Bum asked. "Was there someone else you had in mind? That guy I saw MK yelling at the other day?"
"I don't want to talk about that," said Mad Park. "My spirit is broken. And I blame you as much as your father, Oh Yeon Joo!"
He walked away.
"What were you saying about MK?"
"Oh, one of Barking Mad's friends was here, but he was having an argument with MK. I think you got set up with him once. Tall guy, handsome-ish. Apparently up to MK's weight in a fight, which is really something."
Yeon Joo wasn't sure how to think about that. Clearly she needed to catch up with MK soon. She made a mental note to text her--later.
Mad Park stuck his head back in to say, "And that epilogue did not cut it by half! The script has to be by someone who will get it on track. I did like the twist with So Hee, but I hope your father read my comments about the final love-line."
"I assure you he did not," said Yeon Joo waving him away.
-
They were laying skin-to-skin, not ready to fall asleep when Chul summoned the courage to ask, "When did you first think that this might really work? Not closing W's narrative--us together."
He felt her take a breath to speak, ribs pressing a little deeper against his.
"That's a kind of complicated answer. But when you came here and were so appreciative of Soo Bong letting you stay with him, though it was not a great apartment or situation? I was relieved, because you seemed to be able to deal with real world inconveniences with grace."
"But that was nothing," he protested.
"The fact that you thought so meant a lot to me," she said, fingers gently brushing his collarbone. "I didn't know how much your privilege in W would form you."
"Ah, I see. My memories of my childhood are of a very normal home, though."
"What about you? You must be asking because you've been considering it."
"It was a process for me, too. But I have to say when you asked me firmly to let you finish eating, after sneaking into So Hee's apartment, I had this sense that I was experiencing something new and important."
She chuckled. "Yes, someone who wasn't an actual side character."
"Not just that. Even here, people look at me a certain way because of how I look. Or the expertise I have, or whatever. But you looked past that. You can see me, under the all-caps KANG CHUL of my origin."
"I'd already had a chance to become a little resistant to your face," she said, still amused.
"When we met again, after I'd gone into hiding, I understood why you were so devastated every time you met me. But you had still risked your life to help me, and you continued to do your best for me. Even being gentle when I fell in love with you, though it was such a hard thing for you to deal with."
"Was I kind?" she mused.
"Yes," he said firmly. "Because you didn't run away. You were honest with me."
"Looks like it all paid off on my end."
He accepted that she was not going to see herself as a hero in any way, and didn't protest again. It was enough that he'd let her know.
"In case you're tempted to cast yourself in the light of the sole beneficiary," she said after a moment, "what we went through together, all this time, gave me a fresh start. When I saved your life I was on hiatus from medicine and not sure I'd ever go back to it. I didn't remember creating a character that then became so popular, and I didn't know what I was capable of in hard circumstances. This story saved me, too."
"Then it's worth it, and I'm glad," Chul said.
His love in his arms, he listened to the erratic pulse of cars and city life, real and alive.
End Notes, from Park Soo Bong:
When I first set out to write the story of Kang Chul and Oh Yeon Joo, I planned to set the record straight. I realized eventually that even with first-hand accounts and raw material to draw from, I was creating yet another version of the truth. It was a little bit more story than real in some parts, because it made a great narrative. I hope you enjoyed the story you read, and it answers a few questions you might have had.
And now, since it is a story, just like W the comic I'll leave you with the fitting conclusion:
EPILOGUE
Understandably, all those involved in creating W felt wary of continuing work in manhwa after this and moved into different fields.
Park Soo Bong worked as a consultant on new comics under Editor Kim until he sold his first novel. Acclaimed as psychological horror with vivid settings and relatable characters, it sold well, and he is known a prolific writer with a knack for subverting expectations, sometimes with surrealist twists.
Oh Seung Moo's retirement from comics was considered dubious by the general public after the several false ends of his webtoon, but he never released any more material. He created a blog where he reviewed comics which enjoys a modest readership. His die-hard fans loved it while his detractors noted he seemed more focused on aesthetics than substantive writing. Nevertheless, his words of appreciation have encouraged many a new creator in a tough business.
Kang Chul got the job at the publishing house that sold his manhwa using an assumed name. He did well in management and eventually started his own division specializing in true crime and cold case books. He did particularly well interfacing with television companies, and a contract with his imprint was considered a foot in the door for adaptation. After getting more established, he also founded a prize in literature for investigative writing, with a clear mission to vindicate the falsely accused or expose those who escaped justice.
Oh Yeon Joo continued to work in diagnostics and post-surgery support rather than operations at Myung Se until Barking Mad Park recommended her to a colleague at the university who was doing a paper on traumatic impact of emergency surgery on hospital workers. Discovering this field of inquiry was a light-bulb moment. She studied counseling, became licensed, and specializes in medical trauma for both patients and medical personnel.
A year after registering their marriage, Oh Yeon Joo and Kang Chul had a small wedding at which both her parents, Mad Park, MK, Park Soo Bong and Kang Seok Bum were present. There were no arguments or gunshots or even tears, barring Yeon Joo's mother's slight emotional moment saying goodbye to the couple on their way back home. (She tentatively likes Kang Chul, mainly because Yeon Joo is happier now, and partly because her daughter isn't getting any younger.)
And while they still live today, in our world, they are all very happy to have made it to The End.
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...The candidates were talking about health care. At first, Biden sounded strong, confident, presidential: “My plan makes a limit of co-pay to be One. Thousand. Dollars. Because we—”
He stopped. He pinched his eyes closed. He lifted his hands and thrust them forward, as if trying to pull the missing sound from his mouth. “We f-f-f-f-further support—” He opened his eyes. “The uh-uh-uh-uh—” His chin dipped toward his chest. “The-uh, the ability to buy into the Obamacare plan.” Biden also stumbled when trying to say immune system.
Fox News edited these moments into a mini montage. Stifling laughter, the host Steve Hilton narrated: “As the right words struggled to make that perilous journey from Joe Biden’s brain to Joe Biden’s mouth, half the time he just seemed to give up with this somewhat tragic and limp admission of defeat.”
Several days later, Biden’s team got back in touch with me. One of his aides gingerly asked whether I’d noticed the former vice president stutter during the debate. Of course I had—I stutter, far worse than Biden. The aide said he was ready to talk about it. In November, after Biden stumbled multiple times during a debate in Atlanta, the topic would become even more relevant.
...Stuttering is a neurological disorder that affects roughly 70 million people, about 3 million of whom live in the United States. It has a strong genetic component: Two-thirds of stutterers have a family member who actively stutters or used to. Biden’s uncle on his mother’s side—“Uncle Boo-Boo,” as he was called—stuttered his whole life.
In the most basic sense, a stutter is a repetition, prolongation, or block in producing a sound. It typically presents between the ages of 2 and 4, in up to twice as many boys as girls, who also have a higher recovery rate. During the developmental years, some children’s stutter will disappear completely without intervention or with speech therapy. The longer someone stutters, however, the lower the chances of a full recovery—perhaps due to the decreasing plasticity of the brain. Research suggests that no more than a quarter of people who still stutter at 10 will completely rid themselves of the affliction as adults.
The cultural perception of stutterers is that they’re fearful, anxious people, or simply dumb, and that stuttering is the result. But it doesn’t work like that. Let’s say you’re in fourth grade and you have to stand up and recite state capitals. You know that Juneau is the capital of Alaska, but you also know that you almost always block on the j sound. You become intensely anxious not because you don’t know the answer, but because you do know the answer, and you know you’re going to stutter on it.
Stuttering can feel like a series of betrayals. Your body betrays you when it refuses to work in concert with your brain to produce smooth speech. Your brain betrays you when it fails to recall the solutions you practiced after school with a speech therapist, allegedly in private, later learning that your mom was on the other side of a mirror, watching in the dark like a detective. If you’re a lucky stutterer, you have friends and family who build you back up, but sometimes your protectors betray you too.
...The students are taking turns reading a book, one by one, up and down the rows. “I could count down how many paragraphs, and I’d memorize it, because I found it easier to memorize than look at the page and read the word. I’d pretend to be reading,” Biden says. “You learned early on who the hell the bullies were,” he tells me later. “You could tell by the look, couldn’t you?”
...“The paragraph I had to read was: ‘Sir Walter Raleigh was a gentleman. He laid his cloak upon the muddy road suh-suh-so the lady wouldn’t soil her shoes when she entered the carriage,’ ” Biden tells me, slightly and unintentionally tripping up on the word so. “And I said, ‘Sir Walter Raleigh was a gentle man who—’ and then the nun said, ‘Mr. Biden, what is that word?’ And it was gentleman that she wanted me to say, not gentle man. And she said, ‘Mr. Buh-Buh-Buh-Biden, what’s that word?’ ”
...Listening back to that part of the conversation after our interview made me feel dizzy. I can only speculate as to why Biden’s campaign agreed to this interview, but I assume the reasoning went something like this: If Biden disclosed to me, a person who stutters, that he himself still actively stutters, perhaps voters would cut him some slack when it comes to verbal misfires, as well as errors that seem more related to memory and cognition.
But whenever I asked Biden about what appeared to be his present-day stuttering, the notably verbose candidate became clipped, or said he didn’t remember, or spun off to somewhere new.
I wondered if I reminded Biden of his old self, a ghost from his youth, the stutterer he used to be. He and I are about the same height. We happened to be wearing the exact same outfit that day: navy suit, white shirt, no tie. We both went to all-male prep schools, the sort of place where displaying any weakness is a liability.
As I listened to the recording of our interview, I remembered how I used to respond when people asked me about my stutter. I’d shut down. I’d try to change the subject. I’d almost always look away.
...This evolution in treatment has been accompanied by a new movement to destigmatize the disorder, similar to the drive to view autism through a lens of “neurodiversity” rather than as a pathology. The idea is to accept, even embrace, one’s stutter. There are practical reasons for this: Research shows, according to Donaher, that the simple disclosure “I stutter” benefits both the stutterer and the listener—the former gets to explain what’s happening and ease the awkward tension so the latter isn’t stuck wondering what’s “wrong” with this person. Saying those two words is harder than it seems. “I’m working with people who spend their whole lives and are never able to disclose it,” Donaher told me.
Eric S. Jackson, an assistant professor of communicative sciences and disorders at NYU, told me he believes that Biden’s eye movements—the blinks, the downward glances—are part of his ongoing efforts to manage his stutter. “As kids we figure out: Oh, if I move parts of my body not associated with the speech system, sometimes it helps me get through these blocks faster,” Jackson, a stutterer himself, explained. Jackson credits an intensive program at the American Institute for Stuttering, in Manhattan, with bringing him back from a “rock bottom” period in his mid-20s, when he says his stutter kept him from meeting women or speaking up enough to reach his professional goals. Afterward, Jackson went all in on disclosure: Every day for six months, he stood up during the subway ride to and from work and announced that he was a person who stutters. “I had this new relationship with my stuttering—I was like Hercules,” he told me. At 41, Jackson still stutters, but in conversation he confidently maintains eye contact and appears relaxed. He wishes Biden would be more transparent about his intermittent disfluency. “Running for president is essentially the biggest stage in the world. For him to come out and say ‘I still stutter and it’s fine’ would be an amazing, empowering message.”
Occasionally, Biden has used present-tense verbs when discussing his stutter. “I find myself, when I’m tired, cuh-cuh-catching myself, like that,” he said during a 2016 American Institute for Stuttering speech. Biden has used the phrase we stutterers at times, but in most public appearances and interviews, Biden talks about how he overcame his speech problem, and how he believes others can too. You can watch videos posted by his campaign in which Biden meets young stutterers and encourages them to follow his lead. They’re sweet clips, even if the underlying message—beat it or bust—is out of sync with the normalization movement.
Emma Alpern is a 32-year-old copy editor who co-leads the Brooklyn chapter of the National Stuttering Association and co-founded NYC Stutters, which puts on a day-long conference for stuttering destigmatization. Alpern told me that she’s on a group text with other stutterers who regularly discuss Biden, and that it’s been “frustrating” to watch the media portray Biden’s speech impediment as a sign of mental decline or dishonesty. “Biden allows that to happen by not naming it for what it is,” she said, though she’s not sure that his presidential candidacy would benefit if he were more forthcoming. “I think he’s dug himself into a hole of not saying that he still stutters for so long that it would strike people as a little weird.”
...As he watched The King’s Speech, Biden accurately guessed that the screenwriter, David Seidler, was a stutterer. “He showed me a copy of a speech they found in an attic that the king had actually used, where he marks his—it’s exactly what I do!” Biden tells me, his voice lifting. “My staff, when I have them put something on a prompter—I wish I had something to show you.”
He pulls out a legal pad and begins drawing diagonal lines a few inches apart, as if diagramming invisible sentences: x words, breath, y words, breath. “Because it’s just the way I have—the, the best way for me to read a, um, a speech. I mean, when I saw The King’s Speech, and the speech—I didn’t know anybody who did that!”
...A stutter does not get worse as a person ages, but trying to keep it at bay can take immense physical and mental energy. Biden talks all day to audiences both small and large. In addition to periodically stuttering or blocking on certain sounds, he appears to intentionally not stutter by switching to an alternative word—a technique called “circumlocution”—which can yield mangled syntax. I’ve been following practically everything he’s said for months now, and sometimes what is quickly characterized as a memory lapse is indeed a stutter. As Eric Jackson, the speech pathologist, pointed out to me, during a town hall in August Biden briefly blocked on Obama, before quickly subbing in my boss. The headlines after the event? “Biden Forgets Obama’s Name.” Other times when Biden fudges a detail or loses his train of thought, it seems unrelated to stuttering, like he’s just making a mistake. The kind of mistake other candidates make too, though less frequently than he does.
During his 2016 address at the American Institute for Stuttering, Biden told the room that he’d turned down an invitation to speak at a dinner organized by the group years earlier. “I was afraid if people knew I stuttered,” he said, “they would have thought something was wrong with me.”
Yet even when sharing these old, hard stories, Biden regularly characterizes stuttering as “the best thing that ever happened” to him. “Stuttering gave me an insight I don’t think I ever would have had into other people’s pain,” he says. I admire his empathy, even if I disagree with his strict adherence to a tidy redemption narrative.
In Biden’s office, as my time is about to run out, I bring up the fact that Trump crudely mocked a disabled New York Times reporter during the 2016 campaign. “So far, he’s called you ‘Sleepy Joe.’ Is ‘St-St-St-Stuttering Joe’ next?”
“I don’t think so,” Biden says, “because if you ask the polls ‘Does Biden stutter? Has he ever stuttered?,’ you’d have 80 to 95 percent of people say no.” If Trump goes there, Biden adds, “it’ll just expose him for what he is.”
I ask Biden something else we’ve been circling: whether he worries that people would pity him if they thought he still stuttered.
He scratches his chin, his fingers trembling slightly. “Well, I guess, um, it’s kind of hard to pity a vice president. It’s kind of hard to pity a senator who’s gotten six zillion awards. It’s kind of hard to pity someone who has had, you know, a decent family. I-I-I-I don’t think if, now, if someone sits and says, ‘Well, you know, the kid, when he was a stutterer, he must have been really basically stupid,’ I-I-I don’t think it’s hard to—I’ve never thought of that. I mean, there’s nobody in the last, I don’t know, 55 years, has ever said anything like that to me.”
He slips back into politician mode, safe mode, Uncle Joe mode: “I hope what they see is: Be mindful of people who are in situations where their difficulties do not define their character, their intellect. Because that’s what I tell stutterers. You can’t let it define you.” He leans across the desk. “And you haven’t.” He’s in my face now. “You can’t let it define you. You’re a really bright guy.”
He’s telling me, in essence, that my stutter doesn’t matter, which is what I want to tell him right back. But here’s the thing: Most of the time, Biden speaks smoothly, and perhaps he sincerely does not believe that he still stutters at all. Or maybe Biden is simply telling me the story he’s told himself for several decades, the one he’s memorized, the one he can comfortably express. I don’t want to hear Biden say “I still stutter” to prove some grand point; I want to hear him say it because doing so as a presidential candidate would mean that stuttering truly doesn’t matter—for him, for me, or for our 10-year-old selves...
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Vote for whomever you think would be the best president. There are plenty of valid reasons to prefer one candidate over another. But stop spouting off bullshit conspiracy theories while pretending to be an expert in speech pathology, stuttering, AND senility. (And realize you’re also implicitly calling everyone with a stutter or any speech disorder mentally demented or mentally deficient).
#long post#don't care#this shit is starting to really piss me off#and sounds exactly like the shit the alt-right and fox news puts out
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Fathers’ Day, Familiarity and Faith | #38 | June 2020
If my COVID-19 experiences were a Netflix Original Series, I feel someone could title it, "The Groundskeeper."
Synopsis: Returned Peace Corps Volunteer from Mongolia, now back in Nevada, learns a thing or two about hedge trimming and much more about life living.
The inspirational hit series stars award-winning memoirist Daniel Lindbergh Lang, director and editor. “Please support the official release.”
Quirky thoughts keep me sane. More on these later, of course.
The U.S. celebrated Father’s Day 2020 on June 21, so I commemorate it with reflections from being my father’s son.
The adventures follow both my Mothers’ Day reflections (#36) and Easter in America stories (#35). I focus now on continued COVID-19 adventures in yard work, sorting and reminiscing.
Chronologically, we pick up from my stateside Week 11 (May 15-21), when my sisters came home from their unis’ spring semesters. With them as collaborators, I continued sorting our family’s memorabilia. After a few weeks’ interlude 'round Memorial Day, big changes occurred Weeks 14 through 16 (June 5-25) through Fathers’ Day.
I also consider Pentecost and the Spirit. Easter 2020 ended Sunday, May 31, so we’re in a fruitful new time. In fact, I write here results from the smattering of routines I shared before.
Lastly, to clarify, many assume my dad’s Asian. But that’s untrue. He’s Austrian-American. That’s where I get my “Lang” surname. Ethnically, I’m about half Austrian. Culturally, too, Dad’s family influenced me far more than Mom’s when I grew up. My mom was ethnically full Chinese, hence that half.
Now back to Dad!
Father’s Perspective on My Boyhood
During my 2020 time home since Peace Corps’ evacuation, Dad often prods me to take on projects he sees around the yard. So, I do yard work. I don’t like desert heat, so I usually work the daily tasks an hour or two at dawn, sometimes dusk. Picture three months this way.
But Dad would tend to demand a certain perfection on many projects, expecting me out there working when there’s work to do. I’d rather let nature do as it pleases. Peace Corps experiences taught me decorated yards generally feel overrated. When I’m older, I feel I’d much rather have my family frequent parks to get our yard fix. Nonetheless, yard work lets me chat with God, who reminds me empathize.
It is difficult to say, "I serve the Father," if I do not serve my father.
With this in mind, I consider the patient progress of waiting while working often.
Dad grew up in rural America’s Midwest from the mid-20th century. Dad’s parents and community were largely Austrian-American Catholics. Dad’s grandfather immigrated with Dad’s great-grandfather because land in Austria was scarce, late-19th century, yet plentiful in Kansas. My dad grew up on a farm as a third-generation Austrian-American. He funded his higher ed. through U.S. military service and numerous side jobs, including those in teaching and sales.
Through Dad, I’m a fourth-generation Austrian-American—though, only second-generation Chinese-American, through Mom. I wasn’t quite on a farm, having grown up between Midwestern suburbs and an urban West. Still, Dad regularly tasked siblings and I with yard work.
An Energetic Kid, Ages 4-7
Now this gets interesting!
This mid-May 2020, my younger sister and I unearthed Christmas letters our parents (mostly Dad) had written to Dad’s siblings—my uncles and aunts—since before 2000. Turns out, our mom kept hard copies in the bins beside her desk. From these, Sister and I read pretty enjoyable pieces about our child selves.
Here I share Dad’s tales from grade school me in Indiana (used with permission):
2001: "Daniel is 4 years old now and is looking forward to kindergarten. He likes outdoor activities and he is quite strong for his age. He can do a lot of sit ups and push ups already. He likes to walk with [his mom] at the airport, which is nearby."
2002: "Daniel is five years old. He is in kindergarten. He is [...] very competitive. He is in the same school as [his older brother] and is rapidly learning to read now. He is good at math, and he studies very hard."
2003: "Daniel is six years old. He is very competitive and naughty. He always keeps track of the books he reads and comes home to tell us how many books he has finished. His goal is to reach 100 books this year. He is over 90 already. Well, he likes to pester [his brother a lot]. He thinks that is fun. [...]"
2004: "Daniel is seven. He is goal oriented and a 'do'er. He is good at making all kinds of crafts. He is our family's talented teacher. He taught [his younger sister] how to read before she went to kindergarten. He also gives homework assignments to the others, except [his older brother]. He always pesters [his brother] as usual."
God graced me with energy as a kid.
I noticed three themes. For one, I seemed to follow Dad’s lead in filling my time productively. He served in the U.S. Army National Guard and emphasized self-discipline. As a civilian family practitioner, too, he advocated for daily exercises, such as sit-ups, push-ups and walking. I seemed to follow suit.
On the other hand, I was a kiddo with an older brother, and I didn’t mind expending plenty spare energy to bother him. Thankfully I stopped pestering when I grew up with enough self-awareness to know good people don’t intentionally troll. Uni helped.
Curiously, I noticed the letters seemed to note many of my interests resembling Mom’s. Arts, reading and studying seemed more like Mom’s interests than Dad’s, yet I hadn’t realized my similarities to Mom back then. Of course, Dad values education, too.
Studious Beyond Belief, Ages 13-19
As I went through elementary school, Dad’s military service included deployments overseas to Afghanistan (2005) and Iraq (2007). In 2008, our family moved from southern Indiana to North Las Vegas, Nev., where I started middle school. Since my younger sister and I hadn’t found letters from Dad’s years deployed with the others letter, we figured Mom wrote them. By 2009’s end, Dad retired as a lieutenant colonel. But he continued work elsewhere, including in a dozen nations to indigenous peoples of the Americas.
Here were Christmas letters from my adolescence on. Coincidentally, I noticed the first couple we found both came from my last years at respective schools.
2010: “Danny, 13, is finishing at [...] a magnet [middle] school associated with math, science and technology. He [earned last year] a 4.0 [grade-point] average. He received a letter this past week from a magnet high school stating that he was the type of student they were looking for. [I, Dad, think Danny] is also in the National Junior Honor Society [service group]. [...] Danny continues to have to be at the school bus stop at 5:50 in the morning.”
2014: “Danny is the ultimate study robot, with his inhuman ability to study for hours on end in place of sleep, or other usual activities for high schoolers. He attended NV Boys State this past June, and he has risen to the rank of Division News Editor within [Kiwanis] Key Club--a HS service group. Danny and [his younger sister] also attended Key Club activities in CA in Nov. [...] As this is his senior year [...], he should be starting to apply for colleges now, but [...] he has not applied to Yale, which is causing his mother to feel that she is a ‘failure’ if none of her kids get accepted at this prestigious school--it’s used by Chinese mothers as a guilt trip for their kids! [...] He also received an AP with Honors award [from his magnet high school]. He presently is in the ‘top 10’ students in his class ranking. But if he doesn’t get his applications in, then there is always UNLV [Las Vegas]!”
2016: “Daniel is now a sophomore at UNR (Reno) in the Honors Program, and is an honors ambassador. He says he has 1 major in journalism with 3 minors at the present time, and he works at the library when time permits. He also completed an internship in publishing during the summer session, when he stayed in Reno and frugally survived during the summer by ‘couch surfing’ at several different locations. Several of us attended his confirmation at Easter in Reno. He also [...] presented at a few [conferences]. Additionally, he is involved in [the Kiwanis] Circle K service group on campus, as well as the Knights of Columbus, and he sings in the choir at the local Newman Center. Based on his Facebook postings, he seems to be enjoying college immensely. [...]”
I definitely loved service groups—and still do, if Peace Corps counts!
Seeing these letters in 2020, I feel amused how Dad wrote of my later academic interests with distance. Dad’s 2002 line about 5-year-old me, “[Daniel] studies very hard,” escalated exponentially, noticeable by his 2014 line about 17-year-old me, “Danny is the ultimate study robot, with his inhuman ability to study for hours on end in place of sleep.” I figure my peers were similar, though…
I feel amused, too, how Dad included Mom’s wanting me to pursue STEM careers. Chinese often expect this of their kids. In some sense, I’m glad Dad let me escape the Asian tendency and Mom’s ideal to have me pursue a Bachelor of Science. Back then, I contended a bachelor’s from the professional School of Journalism would still make me hireable.
Sure enough, Peace Corps hired!
Besides, I felt vindicated later when I learned my minors in English literature, Chinese studies and communication studies resembled my late mother’s fields of English literature and international relations... She clearly benefited from Liberal Arts. More on these in previous reflections, though. :)
Back From Mongolia
Snap back to March 2020, when I just returned to America after our COVID-19 evacuation from Mongolia.
I was really into “Frozen II,” the cathartic film easing me back into the States. My first week back felt very different from those after. Because “Some Things Never Change,” I discerned to do “The Next Right Thing.” Waking to various “Frozen II” numbers of looping in my brain, days began with such thoughts.
My first days, I often compared experiences to Mom’s when she raised my siblings and me. Despite being at home, I was alone. Dad worked away, plus siblings had school and work. (This preceded American schools canceling or moving online.) So, I felt confused what to do.
I discerned I could tidy the house, serve where others couldn’t. Whether dishes to wash or rooms to clean, I addressed what I saw. I imagined Mom felt this way when my siblings and I attended school and Dad worked.
I also considered my living father matters as much as my late mother. So, honoring Dad honors her, too.
Dad always had yard projects he wanted me doing. I had to weed so much when I first returned.
I felt insights, at least. I considered, weeds are eternal. Weeds will always grow on spiritual life. Weeds attempt to choke our crops’ life. We must uproot our weeds and prune dead areas to fortify new and better parts of being. The physical and spiritual are one. … Yet, weeds still annoy me.
Noticeably, my labors seemed to confuse many in my family. They seemed mostly to recall the 2015 me who’d choose studying over chores any day. But I guess most hadn’t factored I’ve experienced plenty in my years away from home, especially during my months living alone cooking for myself in Mongolia. House tasks are necessary parts of life.
Besides, I’d already been doing these tasks others seemed disinterested in, even back at Christmas 2019, when I sorted Mom’s books, and later during post-evacuation Week 9 (May 1-7), packing up Mom’s desk after three years gathering dust. I felt frustrated others seemed slow to accept I’ve changed since Peace Corps. I pray for grace.
The New Journey
June 6, 2020—just days after Pentecost and coincidentally one month to my 23rd birthday—marked one huge occasion.
Dad remarried!
I felt excited.
I also noticed a curious parallel in threes. For, on my family history adventures, I discovered something about Dad’s parents. In 1987, his mother's spouse passed away; on the third year, she married again, in 1990. 30 years later, my dad’s spouse passed away in 2017; on the third year, he married again, in 2020. Coincidences comfort me at times.
That day, I’d also finished revisions to submit my thesis to a different journal for publication. I’d tried before with one in June 2019 and February 2020, but unfortunately my work hadn’t fit within their scope. Still, the editor believed that I could publish it in the right place!
College Town Return
That Week 14 (June 5-11), Dad also purchased a house in Reno, Nev., where my kind stepmom may move, too. Dad requested aid moving things in Reno. My younger sister and youngest brother both opted out, so I went instead. I prefer Reno’s weather, anyway.
In Reno again, I felt parallels to past years.
Helping my youngest sister and her friend move from a condo and house to the new place, I recalled the many who helped me move between Reno homes during my undergrad. Honestly, I felt weird to think of my dad relocating to Reno, especially since I hadn’t known the area he chose existed during my years studying in town.
Mongolia returned to mind, too, while I lugged belongings in and out of the condo, up and down stairs. Hard to believe that that was three months ago when Peace Corps evacuated us. Exactly three months before, March 9, 2020, was my first Monday in Nevada again.
Writing of Mongolia, I also recalled every bellhop who's hauled my 23 kg (50 lbs.) luggage up stairs in Asia. God bless them.
On the bright side, with helping the sister and friend move, Dad said I got stronger. That felt good. When he asked how many push-ups I could do, I said 50—my new personal record met just days before. When I started working out the month and a half prior, I could only do half that.
Thanks to the lifting and yard work tasking me in Reno, I paused my fitness routines. I realized, I’ve enough strength and endurance for what I’d want to do. So now, having met the goals, I still work out, just less concerned about gains.
Tests of Faith
Back to that ‘groundskeeping.’
With Reno versus Vegas, I prefer hedges to palm trees. Hedges are more fun and less merciless. They leave my body less bloody than palm trees, too. Reno’s weather also keeps cooler.
As you’d expect, yard work leaves plenty time to reflect, chat with God. In earlier days these chats opened with lamentations about the heat and constant tasks. But God graces peace.
Ultimately, Dad’s tasks need someone to do them. He’s busy working full-time out-of-town, and siblings still have activities they must or would rather do. So I volunteer.
On the other side, Dad at times says he’ll compensate me once the bills are paid. There always seem bills to me, though. Since it’s been three months now, I try to think of this like the Kingdom. Whether or not I see rewards, I try to persevere. I must trust the Father to provide in time, no matter the wait. It’s a spiritual exercise.
Pa says he’s glad I’m financially stable, too—My scholarships, grants and work study graduated me debt-free. Those seem good, I guess.
So, spiritually exercising while laboring, I consider parables of workers in the field and masters. Christ spoke of such. Parables about fields and wages seem more nuanced after feeling comparable questions.
I think, too, to re-education labor camps sometimes. During China’s Cultural Revolution, my mom’s parents—both teachers—were sent to those. So, my ‘toiling’ in Dad’s backyards are surely nothing compared to what my grandparents involuntarily endured. I can bear my ‘shackles.’
These bring me to privilege.
At the day’s end, I have places to stay, food to eat and stable internet. Many Americans and people worldwide face greater turmoil than these, perhaps including you, my reader. So, I try acknowledging my ‘hardships’ hardly compare. I try to focus prayers for the needier. Faith helps me through.
On a happy note, I just reached the Diamond League on Duolingo! So, life could definitely be worse...
The Climb
One day during Week 15 (June 12-18), after Dad came home at dusk from work, he asked me to get out the ladder to climb the backyard tree. I thought that was wistful thinking!
Well, I had the time and realized he wanted me to climb after all. The tree had a fallen limb he wanted me to saw off, since I weigh less than him. I insisted I’d only climb with him around.
Well, he came around.
I ascended and sawed four limbs! Before the climb, we thought I only had to address a single one. But as I climbed for it, I found more. Thankfully, these were thin limbs. Dad gave some advice from below, handed me our hand saw then left me while he took care of other tasks around the yard. I climbed higher, wedged my feet in semi-stable positions and got to work.
Atop, the wind blew, so the tree rocked. I clung high in a swaying tree. Good Lord.
But I felt amazed, handling my saw even with my off-hand. I’d cling with one arm and saw with the other. When branches got stuck, I had to grab them, push and jerk them away from other sections to send them down. Dad had me call out, “Timber!” With the final branch out, I let the saw fall.
Success felt like redemption from that random tree I climbed the first culture-shocked day I returned to Vegas from Mongolia. This time I’d such control. My safety depended on it! Plus, I only grazed the back of my hand, as opposed to gashing my palm like the last time I left a tree. Less bleeding is better.
By the end, my arms and legs trembled, not from worry but from muscle fatigue. Still, I felt empowered. Throughout my childhood, I could never climb a tree. Now I passed the physical I hadn’t expected a month and a half prior.
All told, my climb took just half an hour.
Staying the Course
In a week and a half, I turn 23! So I’ll be one (1) 23-year-old, hehe. Look forward to new reflections on how I’ve grown and changed.
As an extension of my paternal family history projects, I started writing memorable quotes from Dad. My siblings and I wound up adapting these and more into our Fathers’ Day 2020 gift! Dad enjoyed our “Book of the Father” we printed.
Meanwhile, America begins to slightly reopen amid COVID-19 conditions, and the post-solstice summer’s begun. So, I encourage us to, whenever possible, still #StayHome more than usual, wear our face masks, maintain physical distance and of course wash our hands. We’ll get through this.
And I hear some are struggling with loneliness, too—If you need someone to talk to, you can always count on me. It’s among the most challenging feelings, given we humans are social beings staying physically apart. Writing, phoning and video calls help me, at least. Feel free to reach out. I keep you and loved ones in my prayers.
Best wishes, and till we chat again.
You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me :)
#Peace Corps#Mongolia#memoir#story#Catholic#God#memoryLang#USA#moving#Las Vegas#Pentecost#faith#Reno#Coronavirus#COVID-19#hope#summer#StayHome#WithMe#Fathers Day
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(thirteen times) i love you— 03
— wherein y/n (a hopeless romantic) seems to fall in love with nearly ever guy she meets. so, she writes letters for them to compensate. these letters weren't meant for them to read, but what happens when they all end up receiving them?
03 // dumb excuse
word count: 2.3k
a/n: hello hello, part three is here!! lmk what you think hehheheh 👀✨
part 4 will be on July 16th, 8:00 PM EST!
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"Wait, so you're saying, Choi Seungcheol, aka Mr. Boy I Loved # 12, volunteered to help you retrieve your letters back?" Jiyeon asked in disbelief before taking a sip on her carton of milk.
"I know right! God, I don't know what went inside his head for him to decide to help me," you groaned, "What if he's just doing it to make fun of me?" With a whine, you buried your face in your arms.
"I doubt it," you heard Hyerim respond from behind you. Tray in hand, she makes her way towards Jiyeon and takes a seat beside her, "I think he's gonna expose you to his friends first, before making fun of you."
You threw your crumpled trash at her and shot her a glare, "I hate you," once again, you let yourself drown in your arms.
"I'm only joking," Hyerim laughs, "Besides, Seungcheol really is a nice guy. I'm sure he's genuine in trying to help you," you could hear Jiyeon hum in agreement.
You let out a huff, "I hope you're right— I have to meet up with him in a while," you took a glance at your watch— ten minutes until you and Seungcheol had to meet. He agreed to give you back your letter, and afterwards, the both of you were to formulate a plan on how to retrieve the rest.
"Uh oh, you better head out then," Jiyeon remarked, "I could see one of your ex obsessions breaching the perimeter," she nudged her head at one of the cafeteria tables. You slowly turned your head towards the direction, letting out a groan upon seeing your editor-in-chief, Jeon Wonwoo. If he won't confront me about the letter, then he's definitely gonna kill me for not heading to the clubroom yesterday— none of which I'd like to experience just yet.
You grabbed your bag in a rush and stood up, "I'll see you guys later," you bid your friends farewell before briskly walking towards the cafeteria's exit, hoping that the male didn't see you.
You let out a sigh of relief once you reached the hallway. You heard a buzz coming from you pocket and you assumed that was Seungcheol.
[seungcheol: hey im at the tables outside. where are you]
[you: im omw, had to deal with sth just now]
You finally arrived at your destination. You scanned the area for any sight of the male, and you managed to spot him sitting on one of the tables at the far end, tapping away on his phone.
[you: im here]
Immediately, he looked up from his phone. A large smile appeared on his face upon meeting your eyes. He waved his hand, beckoning you to come over, and you followed. You could feel a slight tinge of nervousness as you neared closer to the male.
"Hey," Seungcheol greeted you, a grin on his face and you offered him a tight lipped smile in response. His happy expression morphed into a frown, "What? You still don't trust me?" He pouted.
"It's— It's not that," you bit your lip, looking away from the male, "I'm just embarrassed— that's all," you heard him chuckle at your explanation, causing you to glare at him. He patted his hand on the chair beside him, urging you to take a seat. The glare on your face was still present as you sat down.
"No need to be embarrassed, Y/N, it's all in the past," Seungcheol opened his bag, his hand reaching in for something. In one swift motion, he pulls out your letter, "Here," he smiles at you, "I'm sure you've been wanting to get your hands on this."
Letting out a small shriek, you snatch the object from his grasp, "Oh my god, my baby—" you bring the letter to your chest, a relieved sigh escaping your lips. You stay in that position for a while, not paying any attention to the male that's been looking at you with a small smile on his face the entire time.
"Damn, I knew it was important to you , but I didn't know it meant that much," Seungcheol's voice interrupts your mini-episode. You sneered, "Of course, you wouldn't know," you stayed silent for a moment before facing the male, "But, thank you."
The gentle smile on Seungcheol's face never falters, "No problem," he adjusts his seating position before speaking up once again, "So, what are you planning on next?"
You rested your chin on your palm, your free hand twiddling with the letter, "I don't know, " You sighed, "But as much as possible, I'd like to avoid facing my disaster head-on, thank you very much."
A disapproving sound escaped Seungcheol's lips, "Tsk, that won't do," He scolded you, "You won't be able to accomplish anything if you do that,"
"What else can I do?" You groaned, "I don't exactly have the guts of steel, Mr. Choi Seungcheol."
"That's why I'm here, Y/N," he sent a wink at your direction. God, you really wanted to smack him, but he was right. You won't be able to go anywhere if you don't confront them— that is unless you consider sneaking around and taking the the letters without their knowledge, which you're totally up for, by the way.
Your meeting with Seungcheol sadly got cut short by the bell ringing. The both of you stood up and started to gather your things. You slipped the letter into one of your notebooks— you'll place it in a safe box later when you get home. One down, twelve more to go.
The both of you head inside the school building in silence. Seungcheol tapped your shoulder, causing you stop your legs. You face the male, raising your brow at him as you wait for what he has to say.
"I'll talk to you later, yeah? Tell me if anything happens," he smiled. You gave him a quick nod before the both of you finally parted ways.
Surprisingly, you managed to trek down the hallway without having to hide yourself in another locker or having to run another god forsaken marathon. You hadn't ran into any of the boys yet which is definitely good on your part since you weren't mentally prepared to face any of them yet (Seungcheol was an exemption).
You entered class, and lo and behold, Seungkwan was sitting on the desk right beside the door. You let out a yelp, loud enough for half of the class to hear, and you quickly slapped your palm onto your lips. Luckily, the professor wasn't around yet— with yesterday's events, he probably wouldn't let this one slide.
You timidly shuffled around the classroom and decided to sit down at the very back— not your preferred seat, but you wanted to avoid the male as much as possible. While taking out your things, you heard the screech of a chair from beside you, followed by the sound of someone sitting down. You turn your head to see who had decided to sit next to you, and the moment you saw the person— you paled, eyes widening and choking on literally nothing in the process.
"Don't think you could run away just like last time, Y/N— you have some explaining to do," Seungkwan warned you before giving his attention to your professor that had just made his arrival.
Okay, that was unexpected. You only anticipated three things to happen whenever any of the boys decide to confront you— they'll either reject you (obviously), make fun of your cheesy writing, or profess their love for you in return (highly unlikely). You clearly didn't expect a threat.
For the rest of the class, you could only think about Seungkwan's words. You yourself know that you obviously had to explain things, but how did he know? You mentally cursed at yourself. Focus on class, Y/N, think about this shit later. You weren't gonna lie, this entire situation was really giving off a negative impact on your studies— well, your whole life, in general— but all you could do was suck it up, the educational system doesn't give a fuck about the students' well being, anyways.
The bell rang, signalling the end of your class and the beginning of your ruin.
You raced towards the door, hoping to evade the male's confrontation, but for some reason, the path to the door seemed way longer than it was supposed to be (plus the fact there's literally a large mass of students trying to get out, as well). You had no choice but to accept your dreaded fate.
Seungkwan appeared beside you, holding a tight grip on your wrist in case you try to run away (a good idea on his part). You furrowed your brows. It confused you as to why he was so adamant about having you to explain the reason for the letter. Maybe it could be something else? If so, then it must be really really bad for Seungkwan to act like this. At that thought, your nerves started to surface even harder than before.
Upon reaching the hallway, Seungkwan wordlessly dragged you to a corner. The students that were around gave the both of you questioning looks as you passed them by. The male decided to stop, and without even giving you much time to think, he uttered out,
"What the fuck?"
Your features morphed into a mix of confusion and alarm. What? The male probably noticed your expression, and he let out a heavy sigh.
"Look, Y/N, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but it's not fucking funny," Seungkwan glared at you, causing you to flinch. "Vernon approached me yesterday after school, saying he received a letter from you— a love letter, to be more specific," the male's glare doesn't leave his features.
"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"
You bit your lip, trying to think of the proper words to say, "I—I can explain, Seungkwan—"
"You better," he snapped. "I honestly do not understand you, Y/N. We used to be friends— hell, Vernon even considered you to be his best friend, years ago. I know it may have already been six years, but do you think it's okay to try and lead two people on?"
You stayed silent. You wanted to wait for him to finish before reasoning yourself out.
"Not to mention that one of the two literally used to be the closest with you, Y/N." Seungkwan's tone started to become softer, "He may have left that day, Y/N, but Vernon doesn't deserve the shit that you're trying to pull."
Seungkwan looked at you, waiting for what you have to say. You breathed in, hoping that the male would understand you explanation.
"That was never my intention, Seungkwan, " he scoffed but didn't say anything, "Actually, those— those letters weren't supposed to be sent in the first place."
Seungkwan eyed you in disbelief, "I thought you were smart, Y/N, but that's got to be the dumbest excuse I've ever heard."
"I'm telling the truth, Seungkwan. You were never meant to read that— those letters were written for myself," You explained. It's clear that the male still doesn't believe you, but you persist, "I wrote Hansol's letter after he left for America, I wrote your letter when you rose me up while I was absolutely devastated that he left. Everything inside those letters were true— I really did love the both of you."
Seungkwan didn't say anything, but his eyes remained on you.
"And you were never meant to find out."
It was quiet— the only sound that emanated from the both of you was the sound of your heavy breathing. Seungkwan didn't look at you, his eyes were focused on the ground beneath him. You pressed your lips together, afraid if the male believed your words or not. A sigh escaped Seungkwan's lips, he raised his head and looked at you in the eye.
"Alright," he breathed, "I believe you."
It felt as if a heavy weight was lifted from your shoulders. You were about to collapse onto the floor out of relief (and you really couldn't face him anymore after all of that), but Seungkwan wasn't finished.
"But, that doesn't mean I'm still not mad at you," Your face dropped. What else does he want? Your mouth formed into a frown. The window seemed really tempting right now.
"I'll be honest with you, Y/N. I was actually really pleased upon receiving your letter, but Vernon wasn't," Seungkwan stated, distress evident in his voice and features, "To put it in simple terms— he feels like shit."
You furrowed your brows, "Wait, why?" Seungkwan let out a sigh, his hands started to fidget.
"I don't know what exactly you wrote in his letter, but he says he feels really bad for leaving you," he explained, "I mean, he felt bad even before, obviously, but he feels like absolute shit for breaking your heart without knowing."
Oh no. Your heart fell. You didn't want anyone— especially Vernon— to feel that way because of you. It wasn't his decision to leave in the first place. If anyone were to blame, that was you for literally having zero control over your feelings.
"Listen, Y/N," Seungkwan's stern tone interrupted your turbulent thoughts, "I'm not returning your letter unless you talk to Vernon."
"I was planning on talking to him, anyways! God, I can't just let him beat himself up for that," Your voice ended up being louder than expected, eliciting a flinch from the male before you. You mumbled out a quiet 'sorry' before speaking out again.
"But," You sighed, not looking at the male, "I don't think I'm ready to talk to him yet."
"I'll be keeping your letter for the meantime, then," Seungkwan remarked, "As his best friend, I can't stand seeing him like that, Y/N. But he won't listen to anything I say— he'd only listen if it comes from you."
Your eyes were stuck to the floor as you heard Seungkwan making his leave. You stood there in silence, reflecting on what the male had just said. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh.
You'll talk to Vernon sooner or later, but for now, you have other problems to deal with.
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The Greatest Bad Writer in America? Weird, Forgotten Harry Stephen Keeler
Harry Stephen Keeler (1890-1967) enjoys a peculiar kind of fame as a writer. Or "paper-blackener," to quote him. The prose of his mystery novels and pulp stories, written from the 1920s into the 1960s, can be simultaneously balled up, discombobulated, lyrical, cryptic -- even going "utterly blooey" at times. This is from The Riddle of the Traveling Skull, published in 1934:
For it must be remembered that at the time I knew quite nothing, naturally, concerning Milo Payne, the mysterious Cockney-talking Englishman with the checkered long-beaked Sherlockholmsian cap; nor of the latter's "Barr-Bag" which was as like my own bag as one Milwaukee wienerwurst is like another; nor of Legga, the Human Spider, with her four legs and her six arms; nor of Ichabod Chang, ex-convict, and son of Dong Chang; nor of the elusive poetess, Abigail Sprigge; nor of the Great Simon, with his 2163 pearl buttons; nor of--in short, I then knew quite nothing about anything or anybody involved in the affair of which I had now become a part, unless perchance it were my Nemesis, Sophie Kratzenschneiderwümpel--or Suing Sophie!
Viewed through the appropriate lens, Keeler's manifest flaws become avant-garde virtues, as he seems to stretch the novel towards some new form, possibly the radio play or podcast. Neil Gaiman is a fan: "My guiltiest pleasure is Harry Stephen Keeler. He may have been the greatest bad writer America has ever produced. Or perhaps the worst great writer. I do not know. There are few faults you can accuse him of that he is not guilty of. But I love him."
Among the various devotees keeping this "forgotten author" alive, no one has proven more steadfast than Richard Polt, who chairs the philosophy department at Xavier University in Cincinnati and founded the Harry Stephen Keeler Society. http://site.xavier.edu/polt/keeler/
Richard, give us an introduction to Keeler and his work -- and tell us what led you to dedicate so much time and energy to keeping his name alive.
I ran across Keeler by pure accident in 1996, and from the start I was thrilled by the feeling that I was onto something truly weird and forgotten. I’ve always enjoyed digging into some corner of culture, going deep enough that I discover things that just aren’t in sight of today’s conventional wisdom, and finding connections that I would never have found otherwise. That’s exactly what the world of Harry Stephen Keeler has done for me.
Keeler (1890-1967) was a lifelong Chicagoan. His father died when Harry was an infant, and his mother married a series of other ne’er-do-wells who also kept dying on her. Meanwhile, she ran a boarding house for vaudevillians—so Harry was exposed to a wide variety of theatrical types in a city that was teeming with immigrants. He studied to be an electrical engineer and worked for a while at a steel plant, but his real passion was writing. His mom feared that he was going insane, and had him committed to the asylum at Kankakee, Illinois in 1911-1912. But he was released, and managed to make a living publishing quirky little stories with twists. In 1919 he became the editor of the pulp magazine 10 Story Book, which published short fiction and pictures of half-clothed girls. He also edited magazines such as the Chicago Ledger and America’s Humor.
Keeler’s stories began to get more convoluted, and by the late ’20s he was publishing mystery novels with Dutton in the US and Ward Lock in England, including The Spectacles of Mr. Cagliostro, which drew on his experience in the asylum. Things were looking up, but the Depression cut into book sales at the same time as HSK’s novels took a turn for the bizarre. He typically built his novels on the skeleton of an old short story from his youth, or several of them woven together. Sometimes his wife, Hazel Goodwin Keeler, would also contribute a chapter. This all became the occasion for gloriously implausible tales, chock-full of long-winded speeches in dialect; caricatures of every ethnic group from “Swodocks” to “Celestials”; near-future technology such as intercontinental 3D television; and, inevitably, a surprise ending that sends your synapses on a rollercoaster ride. This stuff appealed to an ever narrower audience. Finally, Dutton dropped Keeler in 1942. He was published by the bargain basement Phoenix Press from 1943 to 1948. Ward Lock cut him in 1953. Then he wrote for Spanish and Portuguese publication at $50 a title—or just for himself.
There were definitely some bitterness and frustration in Keeler’s old age, and when Hazel died in 1960, he went into a tailspin. But then he married Thelma Rinaldo, his one-time secretary from America’s Humor, and as he put it, he caught hold of “the greased pig known as the will to live.” Harry collaborated with Thelma on some late novels that have been published only in recent years.
There are two perennial questions about Keeler: Was he mentally ill? And was he a bad writer? Most people’s initial reaction is that he was a terrible writer who had mental problems. But you can also make the case that he knew what he was doing and was very good at it; it’s just that he had an eccentric sense of humor that requires a special sensibility to appreciate. I’m inclined to this latter view, although he does keep me guessing. I suspect that he had some traits that we would classify as belonging to the autistic spectrum, such as a prodigious memory for facts combined with a superficial grasp of human emotion. A Keeler story is not about interiority; it’s about a complex plot that plays games with the reader’s mind.
Describe Keeler's trademark concoction, the "webwork plot." “Web-work” or “webwork” was Keeler’s term for a highly complex plot, which weaves together a number of strands. He introduced the term in 1917 in a series of articles for The Student-Writer, which he then expanded into a fairly long treatise, "The Mechanics (And Kinematics) of Web-Work Plot Construction" (The Author and Journalist, April-November, 1928). Keeler never claimed to have invented the term or the concept; he gave credit to now-forgotten pulp writers such as Bertram Lebhar. But he did consider himself to be a skilled practitioner, and his fans would surely agree.
What’s most delightful in HSK’s theoretical writings on webwork is the diagrams, which show graphically how various characters and objects intersect at key moments in the story. "Mechanics" distinguishes 15 types of “elemental plot combinations” and presents a mind-blowing diagram of Keeler’s 1924 The Voice of the Seven Sparrows. It’s a very tortured plate of spaghetti.
Some of Keeler’s novels (including Sing Sing Nights, Thieves’ Nights, and the series Hangman’s Nights) get their complexity from a 1001 Nights structure: a framework story embraces several stories told by characters. Other Keeler novels get their complexity from endless digressions and red herrings, or tons of factoids that may or may not turn out to be relevant to the main story. Often, the action is told or retold by an unreliable character, instead of being shown to us directly. Inevitably, there’s a big surprise at the end that makes you see the whole plot differently in retrospect.
If you take away the surprise ending, webwork looks a lot like the contemporary literary genre sometimes called “hysterical realism”—the massive, weird, convoluted stories of writers like Pynchon. Keeler pioneered the formal analysis of this kind of tale. If you have a mathematical mind, you’ll appreciate his advice for getting a webwork started:
In conceiving a story or inaugurating a plot which involves threads weaving with threads, if the thread A, or viewpoint character, should figure with the thread B in an opening incident of numerical order "n" (with respect to the incidents in the conditions precedent) there must be invented a following incident "n + 1" involving threads A and C; an incident "n + 2" involving threads A and D; an incident "n + 3" involving threads A and E; and so on up to perhaps at least "n + 4” or "n + 5"; and furthermore "n" must cause "n +1"; "n + 1" must cause "n + 2"; "n + 2” must cause "n + 3" etc.
I’ve tried it—it works!
What's it like living in and among Keelerian natterings over the long haul?
Like one of Pynchon’s paranoid plots, or like Borges’ fantasy encyclopedia that ends up colonizing reality, the Keelerian world has many unsuspected strands that create a webwork in which I am now enmeshed. I’ve read more obscure authors because they imitated Keeler (John Russell Fearn) or were friends of his (T. S. Stribling). I found out that my own great-grandfather, Wells Hastings, wrote a mystery novel that can fairly be described as webwork. And I taught myself some Dutch in order to read the 2010 novel De Sciencefictionschrijver, by Harold S. Karstens—a story about a man who becomes unhealthily obsessed with Harry Stephen Keeler and starts a correspondence with Richard Polt. Yes, Keeler’s world is absorbing—to the point where I have now been absorbed within the covers of a fictional exploration of that world, to be discovered, like Harry himself, by future eccentrics.
by Daniel Riccuito
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