|Review:||Minstrel of Pancakes aka Invariably Sirius Black aka Norwegi says:|
Dude, I keep telling you how your writing triggers inspiration, and today that inspiration was pretty massive. Four paragraphs into this chapter, I was already running to make a word doc. for a new novel. A new novel inspired by a line about a window. WHAT IS LIFE.
I feel so sorry for Beth. Throughout this chapter I kept thinking of the sad Charlie Brown song they play on Arrested Development whenever one of the characters is having an epically bad day, so I pictured Beth trawling along to that tune.
TIMOTHY. I CAN'T. I CANNOT READ HIM WITH A STRAIGHT FACE. Oh my god, the parallels. His sour attitude when she told him there was someone else - I just...all I could think about was his real-life alter ego and his detestable need to make the other party feel guilty and delusional when he, in fact, was the presumptuous one. The arrogance to assume she was lying! That she couldn't possibly have a good excuse not to see him! Beth let him down in the nicest way possible, after paying him pity attention, no less, and he handled it so gracelessly that I cannot imagine the horrors waiting for whatever girl eventually dates Timothy and then decides to break up with him. TIMOTHY IS JUST AWFUL.
D: And Marlene's gone. I feel like we're going down the list of people whose numbers are soon to be up, ticking off boxes. And I know which names are waiting at the very bottom.
I'm a little bit terrified to get there.
Blargh. I waited an eternity to read this chapter because I knew it was going to be a long hiatus, but June 8th! That's still so far away! Rawr!
I hope you're having fun on your vacation!! If you find the Doctor, steal his Tardis for me.
Author's Response: As soon as I read the opening paragraph of this review, I had to trawl back through the story and see what window line you were talking about. NO IDEA HOW THAT WAS INSPIRING TO YOU, BUT I'LL TAKE IT. ♥ (P.S. I need to read more of your writing soon. It's been like a month. All worlds of not okay.)
That sad Charlie Brown song essentially epitomizes this chapter/this book/this trilogy/everything I have ever written ever. Oops. But seriously, why do I write such depressing stuff? I am unable to write anything else. I'll be hunched over a desk in ten years scribbling out horrible good-byes and deaths and misunderstandings and wonder where my life has gone.
I CAN'T READ TIMOTHY WITH A STRAIGHT FACE EITHER, and oh my gosh, if this -- ahem -- inspiration ever reads what I have done. I'm toast. And yet the more I claim that he was inspired by a particular person, and you know very well who, the more fitting it seems to be, and the more I actually transformed him to BE that person when in the beginning it was only supposed to be a vague resemblance. I don't even know if I'm making sense anymore, but I feel like you'll understand it, because you always understand my nonsense, and that is one of my favorite things about having you as a good friend. ♥
*cheese and sap*
Confession: I am beyond terrified to get to the end. Not just because of all the stuff that happens, and all the people who will or won't make it there... but finishing a book, and a trilogy, is a bit of a death in itself. It's like the final massive check-mark on that list.
THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO, AND BEING WONDERFUL IN GENERAL, AND STICKING BY ME, AND MAKING ME SMILE. All of that stuff.