taxonomites | 008 || [Accidental Visual] || Eighth Trial

Corwin should probably find a way to rope his unruly tablet into line. When half the time he seems not to care that it exists, though, that makes things a little difficult, and he’s still subjected to being captured at whatever hour of the day, doing whatever it is he’s decided he’s doing.

At least it looks like he’s found something productive to do. Something that doesn’t involve ruining his blade against a tree and putting it back in order. Now that he has learned a painful lesson in “be careful what you wish for,” he isn’t likely to forget it. And he has a long memory. Whatever the damn hamsters were doing, at least he had something to do to keep himself occupied. Damned if they were going to hear another complaint of boredom out of him.

He has replaced Grayswandir with a simple fencing saber— though the Night Blade isn’t far off, resting on the ground next to a much simpler foil—running through offensive drills of a more formal nature than he had for a long time against no one.

At least he remembered most of them. But then, it was always easier to make things look good when he wasn’t trying to defend himself.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Could be," Corwin shrugged, glancing away from the tablet for a moment. "A good writer, maybe. It's the sign of a great one to become his own master and not rely on the words of those who came before him."

She tilted her head at that. "Shakespeare referenced other people," she pointed out. "And everyone says he's a great writer."

"How much of what's cliche now did he write four hundred years ago? References are fine, but in the end it's what you created yourself that's remembered."

"Is it what you write or how much you write?" The conversation had been slowly relaxing Alexis, and she felt less intimidated enough to argue, at least a little bit. "The more you write the more might survive, right? And the more likely someone's going to think you're representative of the ages or something."

"Quality over quantity, kid." Or something like that. Quantity helped, sure, but who read anything that wasn't worth taking the time to read it? Besides, it made him feel better to think that what survived was the best, rather than the most. Something to be remembered because it was worth it, rather than because there was a positive flood of it.

"Can't it be both?"

The question had been spurred by genuine curiosity as much pride. Of course, Alexis would think it was possible, being raised by a man who had written at least two dozen best sellers.

"Without burning yourself out? Takes a lot of inspiration and willpower." How long had it been since he'd actually sat down and written anything? He couldn't even remember everything he'd composed, if common songs were his or someone else's, what life he'd written them in.

He knew what he was talking about.

"I'm not sure where you'd find that much motivation."

008 || [Accidental Visual] || Eighth Trial

[visual]

[visual]

[visual]

[visual]

[visual]

[visual]

[visual]