#before i got my own i printed a bunch of stuff from a public library printer so that's cool :D
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Hi! I was wondering if you could let me know what type of 3d Printing software/printer you used to create those awesome versions of the eggs/cucurucho? I work in a library and my co-worker and I love what you made and were hoping to see if it's compatible with our machine! Thanks so much!
of course !!! i model them in the SketchApp free web version, which. isn't the best but it's free so y'know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ then sliced in Cura, and printed on a Voxelab Aquila C2 printer!
#asks#before i got my own i printed a bunch of stuff from a public library printer so that's cool :D#i don't really know what info's necessary so if you need more let me know#oh also it's scaled in mm so the eggs (no legs/accessories) should be about 4cm tall and cucurucho's 10.5cm tall
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Your Top Five Pulp Heroes that you wish were better known? By Pulp Hero fans, I mean. Since pretty much all of them except Conan and Tarzan are fairly unknown.
It’s actually quite hard for me to narrow it down to just five, because I’m having to choose between characters that are my favorites that I wish were more well-known and appreciated (which is all of them), and characters that aren’t quite my favorites but I very much think should have achieved great popularity for a myriad of reasons. So instead I’m going to pick some of each. These are not necessarily ranked by their importance or my personal taste, just 5 characters I felt like highlighting in particular.
Honorable mentions goes to characters I already talked about prior and don’t want to repeat myself on. These aren’t “lesser” picks, just ones that I already talked about: Imaro (who in particular definitely feels like he could, and should be, a pop culture superstar if he was only more well-known), Kapitan Mors (who’s got a lot in common with one of my favorite fictional characters, Captain Nemo, but also has a lot of interesting things going on for him as his own character). Sar Dubnotal (a character that appeals a lot to me and I think should be included much more often in pulp hero team-ups). The Golden Amazon (again, definitely a character that feels like it’s just begging to have a pop culture breakout, even comic books rarely if ever have female supervillains this ruthless and over-the-top), The Mexican Fantomas (who absolutely deserves a better name than what I’m calling him here, because he’s incredibly awesome and leagues ahead of just being a knock-off). And of course my homeboy, The Grey Claw, whom I would consider Number One of the list if it wasn’t for the fact that his obscurity has left him untouched by copyright and I got plans of my own for the character that wouldn’t be possible if he was more well-known, so I guess I’m ultimately glad he’s obscure (even if I’m still bothered by how little he’s known).
Allright let’s go:
Number 5: Sheridan Doome
Sheridan Doome appeared in fifty-four stories and three novels from 1935 to 1943. As chief detective for U.S. Naval Intelligence, Lieutenant Commander Sheridan Doome’s job was a grim one. Whenever an extraordinary mystery or crime occurred in the fleet, on a naval base, or anywhere the navy worked to protect American interests, Doome was immediately dispatched to investigate it. Fear and dread would always precede Doome’s arrival in his special black airplane. For, in an explosion during WWI, he had been monstrously disfigured.
He was six feet two inches tall; had a chalk-white face and head. It appeared as though it had once been seared or burned. For eyes, he had only black blotches; glittering optics, that looked like small chunks of coal. His nose was long, the end of it squared off rudely. He had no lips, just a slit that was his mouth. His neck was long, as white and as bony as his face…. Sheridan Doome looked more like a robot than a human being. He was tall and ghastly; his uniform fitted him in a loose manner. Long arms hung at his sides; his face was a perfect blank. He had no control of his facial muscles; consequently, his countenance was always without expression, chalky and bony.
But behind the ugliness was a brilliant mind. Sheridan Doome always got his man. Before Sheridan Doome became a staple in the pages of The Shadow magazine, two Doome hardcover mysteries were written in the mid-1930’s by acclaimed hard-boiled author Steve Fisher (I Wake Up Screaming) and edited by his wife Edythe Seims (Dime Detective, G-8 and His Battle Aces). Age of Aces now brings you both books in one huge double novel, presented in a retro “flip book” style. This book is currently Out of Print.
I sadly don’t have any more information on the character other than this. The book is unavailable for me to acquire in any capacity, and the text above is taken from the Age of Aces website as well as Jess Nevins’s personal profile for the character. I’m not even sure if any of those 54 stories even exist anymore, since although he was published as a backup in Shadow Magazine, there doesn’t seem to be reprints of them anywhere, at least as far as I can find, and the original Shadow magazines have largely turned to dust by now.
A character who combines aspects of The Phantom of the Opera and The Shadow, whose adventures are set in a backdrop that can easily lead to ocean adventures? That’s like, what, three of my favorite things in the world combined. I really, really wish I could at least read the stories this character stars in, but as is, this description is all I can provide. Again, time really has been cruel to the pulp heroes.
Number 4: Harlan Dyce
This is another character I’ve only been able to learn about through Jess Nevins’s archives and have not been able to attain any further information on, which is sadly the case with a lot of pulp heroes that nowadays only seem to exist as footnotes in his Encyclopedia or records in libraries. I don’t post more about these characters because I really would just be copying the stuff he wrote without much to justify me quoting him verbatim, and I hate the idea of doing that.
I especially hate that in Harlan Dyce’s case though. Here’s his description
“Dyce had brains, taste, money, ambition, and a total lack of physical or spiritual fear. But—
“Dyce was thirty-three inches tall and weighed sixty pounds.
“That was all the world could ever hold against him. That was what had made the world, most of it, in all the countries of the world, stare at Harlan Dyce, billed in the big show as “General Midge.””
Harlan Dyce is a misanthropic and venomous private detective. He has an “amazingly handsome face,” and the aforementioned brains. But all anyone sees is his stature, and he hates that and turns his cold eyes and acid tongue on them.
The only person Dyce likes and gets along with (besides his dwarf wife, a former client) is his assistant, Nick Melchem, a six-foot tall former p.i.’s assistant with bleak eyes and a strong body. Melchem ignores Dyce’s stature and treats Dyce normally, which Dyce responds warmly to.
Dwarfs may be the single most maligned group of people depicted in pulp magazines, even more so than the Japanese in the war years or the Chinese during the peak of the Yellow Peril’s popularity. Evil dwarfs, murderous dwarfs, sexually depraved dwarfs, they are all loathsome, ugly cliches that are, sadly, the only instances you see of dwarf characters being represented at all, with the only ones who are awarded any measure of sympathy are doomed henchmen or tragic villains. Even outside of the pulps, the only other examples of heroic, protagonist dwarfs I can think off the top of my head are Puck from Marvel Comics and Tyrion Lannister from Game of Thrones.
I’m not gonna say Harlan Dyce is great representation because I’m not a little person and can never make that kind of claim for a group I’m not a part of, but Harlan Dyce may be the first time I’ve ever seen a dwarf character in pulp fiction who was not a villain or a murderous goon or a victim, but an actual person and a heroic protagonist, and that definitely counts for something. I’m not sure how popular this character was or could be if someone picked up the concept and ran with it (and I’m pretty sure he’s public domain), but I definitely think this is a character that should exist and should be popular.
Hell, this character has Peter Dinklage written all over it, give it to him. Maybe then he will get to play a smart, fearless, cynical, misanthropic but good-natured and heroic character in something where he actually gets to keep these traits until the show ends.
Number 3: Audaz, O Demolidor
Audaz is a Brazilian character who was created and published by Gazetinha, the same publishers of Grey Claw as well as properties exported from elsewhere like Superman and Popeye, and much like The Grey Claw, he is also completely unknown even here. I’ll get to Audaz more in-depth sometime but here I’m going to provide a quick summary:
Audaz, The Demolisher is a gigantic crime-fighting robot controlled and piloted by the brilliant scientist Dr. Blum, his close friend Gregor and the child prodigy Jacques Ennes, who pilot the giant robot from a massive laboratory inside it's head rather than a cockpit. He takes on a variety of ordinary human criminals, mad scientists, supervillains and invading armies, towering over skyscrapers and grappling with jets.
Audaz was created in 1939 by illustrator Messias de Melo, a year before Quality Comics's Bozo the Iron Man and 5 years before Ryuichi Yokoyama's Kagaku Senshi, and decades before the debut of Mazinger Z. Although he is not the first giant robot of science fiction, he is the first heroic giant robot piloted by human pilots, and thus the first true example of "mecha" fiction.
Number 2: Emilia the Ragdoll
This is another Brazilian character, although nowhere near as obscure as Audaz as even a cursory Google search can show. Although Brazil did not have a “pulp era” in the same way the US had, we’ve long gotten past the point of sticking to it as a definitive rule, and I’m including Emilia as a pulp hero because she’s a 1920s fantasy literature character who was created under a publishing company that released pulp stories, because she doesn’t quite belong in the mold of fantasy literature characters she takes after, and because I like her and if I was putting a bunch of pulp heroes together in the same story, I would definitely include Emilia in it. It’s not like she really has anywhere else to go, now that she’s public domain and she’s outlasted her franchise.
As you can tell by the above image, Emilia’s had a lot of variations over the years and that’s because the work she was created for, Sítio do Picapau Amarelo (Yellow Woodpecker Ranch/Farm), has become a major bedrock of Brazilian fantasy literature, one of the only works created here that you can find substantial information about in English if you go looking for it. Here’s some descriptions of Emilia’s character:
Emília is a rag doll described as "clumsy" or "ugly", resembling a "witch" that was handmade by Aunt Nastácia, the ranch's cook, for the little girl Lúcia, out of an old skirt. After Lucia takes her on an adventure and the doll is given a dose of magic pills, Emília suddenly started talking, and would never stop henceforth.
Emilia has a rough, antagonistic personality, and an independent, free-spirited and anarchist behaviour. She is rogue, rebellious, stubborn, rough and intensely determined at anything she sets her mind on, eager to take off on just about any adventure. She is often immature and behaves like a curious and arrogant child, always wanting to be the center of attention.
She is extremely opinionated even when she constantly and confidently mispronounces words and expressions. Her attitude often gets her into trouble, and she very often has to fight against the villains who attack her home on the Yellow Woodpecker Farm and mistreat her friends.
In the stories, Emilia often takes the role of a heroine who travels through different realms and dimensions, as the books include not only figures from Brazilian and worldwide folklore, but also several characters both real and fictional, such as Hercules, King Arthur, Don Quixote, Thumbelina, Da Vinci, Shirley Temple, Captain Hook, Santos Dumont and Baron von Munchausen.
She's fought scorpions and martians and nymph hordes, her arch-enemy is an alligator witch, she rescued an angel from the Milky Way and tried to teach it how to become a human, and once shrunk the entire population of Earth to try and talk the president of the United States into ending war forever.
To little surprise, she has become the most popular character and the series’s mascot.
It’s a little strange to consider Emilia underrated considering she is one of the most famous original characters of Brazilian literature, but hardly anyone outside of Brazil even knows who she is, and regardless of the quality of the original stories (and Monteiro Lobato’s views on race that tar much of his reputation), Emilia definitely feels to me like a character that should be a lot more popular globally.
She is the only character from Yellow Woodpecker Ranch that has transcended the original stories, since she was always the most popular character and there’s been a couple of stories written about her that usually separate her from the ranch and just set her out on the world by herself. The latest story about this character has been a series called The Return of Emilia, that’s about her stepping out of the books in 2050 and discovering a Brazil that’s been ruined by social and ecological devastation, and traveling back in time via a flying scooter in order to try and prevent this calamity.
Now that she’s public domain, I definitely think there’s some great stories that can be told with the character that just about anyone could get to, and I definitely think she’s a character that deserves more appreciation. Anything goes in stories starring her and it’s that kind of free-for-all freedom that I think can benefit future takes on pulp heroes. I would be very happy to place Emilia among them.
Oh yeah, and there was one time she kicked Popeye's ass by tricking him with a can of mouldy cabbage instead of spinach, making him sick and then beating him, which possibly puts her as one of the all-time badasses of fiction, except she would be pissed at not being number one and likely embark on a quest to beat everyone else just to prove she could, because that’s how Emilia rolls.
Number 1: Luna Bartendale, from The Undying Monster (1922)
Not necessarily my favorite of the bunch, but one who sort of epitomizes what you asked, a character who is both incredibly obscure and incredibly underrated in every sense. Despite the book being somewhat known, mainly thanks to the movie, the character is so obscure that I don’t even have an illustration of her to display here, not even fan art, just one of the book’s covers that I think best conveys it. Luckily, the book is also available freely online, so you can all go check it out here. The movie adaptation does not feature the character of Luna Bartendale which makes it pointless to talk about.
To not spoil it too much, The Undying Monster is a very fascinating book, ahead of it’s time in quite a few ways. You expect it to just be a detective story centered around a werewolf cursed, except the subtitle of the book is “The Fifth Dimension” and then it goes to talk about dimensions of thought and post-WWI trauma and love and hypnotic regression that travels through time and ancient runes and Norse mythology. It’s not exactly an easy book to get through in one setting, but I’d recommend it much the same if only because it’s got supersensitive psychic sleuth Luna Bartendale, literature’s first female occult detective, and she’s an incredible character who absolutely feels like she should have become a literary icon.
She lives in London but is world-renowned for her many good deeds. She is a small, pretty woman, with curly blonde hair, dark eyebrows and a high-bridged nose, and a slight build. She has a voice described as a light soprano that "does not make much noise but carries a long way".
Petite, bedimpled and golden curled, Luna is completely in charge of events, dominating every scene that she appears in with her welcoming disposition and cleverness.
Bartendale has various psychic powers, including mind reading. She is well-versed in psychic and occult lore, is a “supersensitive” psychic, and has a “Sixth Sense” which allows her to trace things and people through both the Fourth and the Fifth Dimension. (The Fifth Dimension is “the Dimension that surrounds and pervades the Fourth–known as the Supernatural”).
Her extensive knowledge of occult rites and practices puts John Silence, Carnacki and Miles Pennoyer to shame, and she beats them all with her "super-sensitive" gift of being able to psychically connect with troubled souls and hypnotize them.
She uses a divining rod for various tasks, including psychic detection and tracking, and distinguishing between benevolent and malevolent forces. She has various (undefined) powerful psychic defenses, can carry on seances, and can even cure a person of “wehrwolfism.” And she can always rely on her massive, intelligent dog Roska for help.
Luna sadly doesn’t show up in the book as often as I’d hoped, but everything about this character is so delightful. In a lot od ways she hardly feels like a pulp hero, at least the ones I usually talk about. She feels like a lost protagonist from an incredibly successful kid’s adventure series where a kind and eccentric detective witch and her giant dog go around solving occult mysteries and encountering all sorts of weird supernatural beings while counseling and helping people, like Ms Frizzle meets Hilda. Like this character is just waiting for Cartoon Saloon to make a film about her.
Its not so much “this character should/could be popular but it’s clear why that didn’t pan out”, it’s more me being confused as “why the hell isn’t she super popular? This character should have had a franchise ages ago, holy shit put her in everything””
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20 years a blogger
It's been twenty years, to the day, since I published my first blog-post.
I'm a blogger.
Blogging - publicly breaking down the things that seem significant, then synthesizing them in longer pieces - is the defining activity of my days.
https://boingboing.net/2001/01/13/hey-mark-made-me-a.html
Over the years, I've been lauded, threatened, sued (more than once). I've met many people who read my work and have made connections with many more whose work I wrote about. Combing through my old posts every morning is a journey through my intellectual development.
It's been almost exactly a year I left Boing Boing, after 19 years. It wasn't planned, and it wasn't fun, but it was definitely time. I still own a chunk of the business and wish them well. But after 19 years, it was time for a change.
A few weeks after I quit Boing Boing, I started a solo project. It's called Pluralistic: it's a blog that is published simultaneously on Twitter, Mastodon, Tumblr, a newsletter and the web. It's got no tracking or ads. Here's the very first edition:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/19/pluralist-19-feb-2020/
I don't often do "process posts" but this merits it. Here's how I built Pluralistic and here's how it works today, after nearly a year.
I get up at 5AM and make coffee. Then I sit down on the sofa and open a huge tab-group, and scroll through my RSS feeds using Newsblur.
I spend the next 1-2 hours winnowing through all the stuff that seems important. I have a chronic pain problem and I really shouldn't sit on the sofa for more than 10 minutes, so I use a timer and get up every 10 minutes and do one minute of physio.
After a couple hours, I'm left with 3-4 tabs that I want to write articles about that day. When I started writing Pluralistic, I had a text file on my desktop with some blank HTML I'd tinkered with to generate a layout; now I have an XML file (more on that later).
First I go through these tabs and think up metadata tags I want to use for each; I type these into the template using my text-editor (gedit), like this:
<xtags>
process, blogging, pluralistic, recursion, navel-gazing
</xtags>
Each post has its own little template. It needs an anchor tag (for this post, that's "hfbd"), a title ("20 years a blogger") and a slug ("Reflections on a lifetime of reflecting"). I fill these in for each post.
Then I come up with a graphic for each post: I've got a giant folder of public domain clip-art, and I'm good at using all the search tools for open-licensed art: the Library of Congress, Wikimedia, Creative Commons, Flickr Commons, and, ofc, Google Image Search.
I am neither an artist nor a shooper, but I've been editing clip art since I created pixel-art versions of the Frankie Goes to Hollywood glyphs using Bannermaker for the Apple //c in 1985 and printed them out on enough fan-fold paper to form a border around my bedroom.
As I create the graphics, I pre-compose Creative Commons attribution strings to go in the post; there's two versions, one for the blog/newsletter and one for Mastodon/Twitter/Tumblr. I compose these manually.
Here's a recent one:
Blog/Newsletter:
(<i>Image: <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:QAnon_in_red_shirt_(48555421111).jpg">Marc Nozell</a>, <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en">CC BY</a>, modified</i>)
Twitter/Masto/Tumblr:
Image: Marc Nozell (modified)
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:QAnon_in_red_shirt_(48555421111).jpg
CC BY
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en
This is purely manual work, but I've been composing these CC attribution strings since CC launched in 2003, and they're just muscle-memory now. Reflex.
These attribution strings, as well as anything else I'll need to go from Twitter to the web (for example, the names of people whose Twitter handles I use in posts, or images I drop in, go into the text file). Here's how the post looks at this point in the composition.
<hr>
<a name="hfbd"></a>
<img src="https://craphound.com/images/20yrs.jpg">
<h1>20 years a blogger</h1><xtagline>Reflections on a lifetime of reflecting.</xtagline>
<img src="https://craphound.com/images/frnklogo.jpg">
See that <img> tag in there for frnklogo.jpg? I snuck that in while I was composing this in Twitter. When I locate an image on the web I want to use in a post, I save it to a dir on my desktop that syncs every 60 seconds to the /images/ dir on my webserver.
As I save it, I copy the filename to my clipboard, flip over to gedit, and type in the <img> tag, pasting the filename. I've typed <img src="https://craphound.com/images/ CTRL-V"> tens of thousands of times - muscle memory.
Once the thread is complete, I copy each tweet back into gedit, tabbing back and forth, replacing Twitter handles and hashtags with non-Twitter versions, changing the ALL CAPS EMPHASIS to the extra-character-consuming *asterisk-bracketed emphasis*.
My composition is greatly aided both 20 years' worth of mnemonic slurry of semi-remembered posts and the ability to search memex.craphound.com (the site where I've mirrored all my Boing Boing posts) easily.
A huge, searchable database of decades of thoughts really simplifies the process of synthesis.
Next I port the posts to other media. I copy the headline and paste it into a new Tumblr compose tab, then import the image and tag the post "pluralistic."
Then I paste the text of the post into Tumblr and manually select, cut, and re-paste every URL in the post (because Tumblr's automatic URL-to-clickable-link tool's been broken for 10+ months).
Next I past the whole post into a Mastodon compose field. Working by trial and error, I cut it down to <500 characters, breaking at a para-break and putting the rest on my clipboard. I post, reply, and add the next item in the thread until it's all done.
*Then* I hit publish on my Twitter thread. Composing in Twitter is the most unforgiving medium I've ever worked in. You have to keep each stanza below 280 chars. You can't save a thread as a draft, so as you edit it, you have to pray your browser doesn't crash.
And once you hit publish, you can't edit it. Forever. So you want to publish Twitter threads LAST, because the process of mirroring them to Tumblr and Mastodon reveals typos and mistakes (but there's no way to save the thread while you work!).
Now I create a draft Wordpress post on pluralistic.net, and create a custom slug for the page (today's is "two-decades"). Saving the draft generates the URL for the page, which I add to the XML file.
Once all the day's posts are done, I make sure to credit all my sources in another part of that master XML file, and then I flip to the command line and run a bunch of python scripts that do MAGIC: formatting the master file as a newsletter, a blog post, and a master thread.
Those python scripts saved my ASS. For the first two months of Pluralistic, i did all the reformatting by hand. It was a lot of search-replace (I used a checklist) and I ALWAYS screwed it up and had to debug, sometimes taking hours.
Then, out of the blue, a reader - Loren Kohnfelder - wrote to me to point out bugs in the site's RSS. He offered to help with text automation and we embarked on a month of intensive back-and-forth as he wrote a custom suite for me.
Those programs take my XML file and spit out all the files I need to publish my site, newsletter and master thread (which I pin to my profile). They've saved me more time than I can say. I probably couldn't kept this up without Loren's generous help (thank you, Loren!).
I open up the output from the scripts in gedit. I paste the blog post into the Wordpress draft and copy-paste the metadata tags into WP's "tags" field. I preview the post, tweak as necessary, and publish.
(And now I write this, I realize I forgot to mention that while I'm doing the graphics, I also create a square header image that makes a grid-collage out of the day's post images, using the Gimp's "alignment" tool)
(because I'm composing this in Twitter, it would be a LOT of work to insert that information further up in the post, where it would make sense to have it - see what I mean about an unforgiving medium?)
(While I'm on the subject: putting the "add tweet to thread" and "publish the whole thread" buttons next to each other is a cruel joke that has caused me to repeatedly publish before I was done, and deleting a thread after you publish it is a nightmare)
Now I paste the newsletter file into a new mail message, address it to my Mailman server, and create a custom subject for the day, send it, open the Mailman admin interface in a browser, and approve the message.
Now it's time to create that anthology post you can see pinned to my Mastodon and Twitter accounts. Loren's script uses a template to produce all the tweets for the day, but it's not easy to get that pre-written thread into Twitter and Mastodon.
Part of the problem is that each day's Twitter master thread has a tweet with a link to the day's Mastodon master thread ("Are you trying to wean yourself off Big Tech? Follow these threads on the #fediverse at @[email protected]. Here's today's edition: LINK").
So the first order of business is to create the Mastodon thread, pin it, copy the link to it, and paste it into the template for the Twitter thread, then create and pin the Twitter thread.
Now it's time to get ready for tomorrow. I open up the master XML template file and overwrite my daily working file with its contents. I edit the file's header with tomorrow's date, trim away any "Upcoming appearances" that have gone by, etc.
Then I compose tomorrow's retrospective links. I open tabs for this day a year ago, 5 years ago, 10 years ago, 15 years ago, and (now) 20 years ago:
http://memex.craphound.com/2020/01/14
http://memex.craphound.com/2016/01/14
http://memex.craphound.com/2011/01/14
http://memex.craphound.com/2006/01/14
http://memex.craphound.com/2001/01/14
I go through each day, and open anything I want to republish in its own tab, then open the OP link in the next tab (finding it in the @internetarchive if necessary). Then I copy my original headline and the link to the article into tomorrow's XML file, like so:
#10yrsago Disney World’s awful Tiki Room catches fire <a href="https://thedisneyblog.com/2011/01/12/fire-reported-at-magic-kingdom-tiki-room/">https://thedisneyblog.com/2011/01/12/fire-reported-at-magic-kingdom-tiki-room/</a>
And NOW my day is done.
So, why do I do all this?
First and foremost, I do it for ME. The memex I've created by thinking about and then describing every interesting thing I've encountered is hugely important for how I understand the world. It's the raw material of every novel, article, story and speech I write.
And I do it for the causes I believe in. There's stuff in this world I want to change for the better. Explaining what I think is wrong, and how it can be improved, is the best way I know for nudging it in a direction I want to see it move.
The more people I reach, the more it moves.
When I left Boing Boing, I lost access to a freestanding way of communicating. Though I had popular Twitter and Tumblr accounts, they are at the mercy of giant companies with itchy banhammers and arbitrary moderation policies.
I'd long been a fan of the POSSE - Post Own Site, Share Everywhere - ethic, the idea that your work lives on platforms you control, but that it travels to meet your readers wherever they are.
Pluralistic posts start out as Twitter threads because that's the most constrained medium I work in, but their permalinks (each with multiple hidden messages in their slugs) are anchored to a server I control.
When my threads get popular, I make a point of appending the pluralistic.net permalink to them.
When I started blogging, 20 years ago, blogger.com had few amenities. None of the familiar utilities of today's media came with the package.
Back then, I'd manually create my headlines with <h2> tags. I'd manually create discussion links for each post on Quicktopic. I'd manually paste each post into a Yahoo Groups email. All the guff I do today to publish Pluralistic is, in some way, nothing new.
20 years in, blogging is still a curious mix of both technical, literary and graphic bodgery, with each day's work demanding the kind of technical minutuae we were told would disappear with WYSIWYG desktop publishing.
I grew up in the back-rooms of print shops where my dad and his friends published radical newspapers, laying out editions with a razor-blade and rubber cement on a light table. Today, I spend hours slicing up ASCII with a cursor.
I go through my old posts every day. I know that much - most? - of them are not for the ages. But some of them are good. Some, I think, are great. They define who I am. They're my outboard brain.
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Rick Pender knows his Sondheim from A to Z
If the word “encyclopedia” conjures for you a 26-volume compendium of information ranging from history to science and beyond, you may find the notion of a Stephen Sondheim Encyclopedia perplexing. But if you have ever looked at a bookshelf full of book after book about (and occasionally by) the premiere musical theatre composer-lyricist of our era and wished all that information could be synthesized and indexed in one place, maybe the idea of a Sondheim encyclopedia will start to make a little more sense to you. It did to Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, an independent publisher that’s made encyclopedias such as this one of their calling cards, offering tomes on everyone from Marie Curie to Akira Kurasowa. Several years ago, they approached Rick Pender, longtime managing editor of the gone but never forgotten Sondheim Review and now, after years of research, writing, and pandemic-related delays, the The Stephen Sondheim Encyclopedia is finally hitting shelves. I sat down with Rick (via Zoom) to chat about this unique, massive project.
FYSS: I want to really focus on the new book, but we should start with your history with Sondheim and The Sondheim Review. How did you become so enmeshed in this work?
RP: As a teenager, the first LP that I bought was the soundtrack from West Side Story, and I didn't have any clue about who much of anybody was, particularly not Stephen Sondheim. But I loved the lyrics for the songs, especially “Something’s Coming” and “Gee, Officer Krupke.” These are just fabulous lyrics.
Then, of course, in the ‘70s it was hard as time went by not to have some awareness of Sondheim. I saw a wonderful production of Night Music in northeast Ohio, and I again just thought these lyrics are incredible, and I love the music from that particular show. Fast forward a little further in the late ‘80s, I was laid up with some surgery and I knew I was going to be bedridden for a week or two anyway, so I went to the public library and grabbed up a handful of CDs, and in that batch was A Collector's Sondheim, the three-disc set of stuff up through about 1985, and I must have listened to that a hundred times, I swear, because it had material on it that I didn't know anything about like Evening Primrose or Stavisky. So that really opened my eyes.
Later, my son had moved to Chicago. He's a scenic carpenter and a union stagehand. He worked at the Goodman Theatre, and I went to see a production when they were still performing in a theater space at the Art Institute of Chicago, and they had a gift shop there. And lo and behold in the rack I saw a copy of a magazine called The Sondheim Review! I thought, oh my gosh, I've got to subscribe to this! This would have been about 1996, probably, so I subscribed and enjoyed it immediately. A quarterly magazine about just about Stephen Sondheim struck me as kind of amazing.
In 1997-98 the Cincinnati Playhouse did a production of Sweeney Todd in which Pamela Myers, all grown up, played Mrs. Lovett, and so I wrote to the editor of the magazine and said, “Would you like me to review this?” That started me down a path for a couple of years of making fairly regular contributions to the magazine. Then in 2004 that editor retired, and I was asked to become the managing editor, which I did from 2004 to 2016. It went off the rails for some business reasons, but it lasted for 22 years which I think is pretty remarkable.
I tried to sustain it in an alternative form with a website called Everything Sondheim. We put stuff up online for about 18 months, and we published three print issues that look very much like The Sondheim Review, but we were not able to sustain it beyond that.
FYSS: How did the Encyclopedia project originate?
RP: The publisher asked me to write an encyclopedia about Stephen Sondheim! I envisioned that I would be sort of the general editor who coordinated a bunch of writers to put this together, but they said no, we're thinking of you as being the sole author. They had done a couple of other encyclopedias particularly of film directors, and those were all done by one person, so they sent me a contract asking me to generate 300,000 words for this book, and after I regained consciousness, I said all right, I'll give it a try.
It took me about two years – most of 2018 and ‘19 – to generate that content. I sent it off in the fall of ‘19, and then, well, the world stopped because of the pandemic. It was supposed to come out April a year ago, and they had just furloughed a bunch of their editors and everything stalled. But now it's coming out mid-April 2021.
FYSS: What was the research and writing process like?
RP: This project came about in part because the publisher initially approached another writer, Mark Horowitz, who's at the Library of Congress and who had done a Sondheim book of Sondheim on Music. Mark and I had become quite close because he wrote a number of wonderful features about different Sondheim songs for The Sondheim Review. When I heard that that he had put my name out there, I went back to him after I had agreed to do this and said, Mark, could we use some of that material that you wrote for the magazine about those songs? And he said, sure do with them whatever you wish. And I was glad he said that, because they were really long pieces, and I've reduced each of them to about 1500-2000 words, which I thought was probably about the maximum length that people would really want to read in a reference volume.
But other than that, I generated everything else myself. I relied upon plenty of material within the 22 years of back issues of The Sondheim Review. Another great resource was Sondheim's own lyric studies, the two-volume set which provides so much information about the production of shows and that sort of thing.
Of the 131 entries I wrote for this, 18 of them are lengthy pieces about each of the original productions, so again Sondheim's books were certainly useful for that, and other books like Ted Chapin's book about Follies.
I also spent some time in Washington, D.C. at the Library of Congress, and Mark loaned me a quite a bit of material that he had collected – not archival material but scrapbooks of clippings that he put into ring binders of stuff about Sondheim's shows.
I came back to Cincinnati with about four or five cartons of materials, and I could really dig through that stuff as I was working on these. And then I have, as I'm sure you and lots of other Sondheim fans have, a bookcase with a shelf or two of Sondheim books, and those were all things that I relied upon, too.
I actually generated a list with lots and lots of topics, probably over 200, and I knew that was going to be more than I could do. Eventually, some things were consolidated, like an actor who perhaps performed in just one Sondheim show wasn't going to get a biographical entry, but I would talk about them in the particular show that they were involved in. So, I was able to collapse some of those kinds of things. But as I said, I did end up with 131 entries in the publication, and it turned out to be 636 pages, so that's a big fat reference book.
FYSS: Who is the intended audience for a work like this?
RP: The book is really intended to be a reference volume more than a coffee-table book. It does have photography in it, but it's black and white and more meant to be illustrative than to wallow in the glories of Sondheim. There is an extensive bibliography in it, and all the material is really thoroughly sourced so people can find ways to dig into more.
FYSS: Sometimes memories diverge or change over time. Did you come across any contradictions in your research, and how did you resolve them?
RP: I can't say that I can recall anything like that. I relied very heavily on Sondheim's recollections in Finishing the Hat and Look, I Made a Hat because he's got a memory like a steel trap. Once in a while I would email him with a question and get very quick response on things. I really used him as my touchstone for making sure of that kind of thing.
I also found that Secrest’s biography was very thoroughly researched, and I could rely on that. But I can't say that I found a lot of discrepancy, and some of those kinds of things were a little too much inside baseball for me to be including in the encyclopedia.
FYSS: For figures with long and broad histories, how did you decide what to include? George Abbott, for example, is the first entry in the book and he worked for nine decades! How important was writing about an individual as they relate to Sondheim vs. who they were more generally?
RP: To use George Abbott as an example, I would say that the first things that I
did was to go back to the lyric studies and to the Secrest biography and just look up references to Abbott. I mean, it was George Abbott who said that he wanted more hummable songs from Sondheim, so you know that was certainly an anecdote that was worth including because, of course you know, it becomes a little bit of the lyric in Merrily We Roll Along.
So you know, I would look for those kinds of things, but I also wanted to put Sondheim in context because Abbott was well into his career when he finally directed Forum which, since it was Sondheim's first show as a composer and a lyricist, is significant. That was very much the focus of that entry, but I wanted to lay a foundation in talking about Abbott, about all the things that he had done before that. I mean, he was sort of the Hal Prince of his era in in terms of his engagement in so many different kinds of things – writing plays, directing musicals, doctoring shows, all of that.
FYSS: Did any entries stick out to you as being the hardest to write?
I think the most complicated one to write about probably was Bounce/Road Show because it's got a complicated history, and Sondheim has so much to say about it. And because it's not a show that people know so much about, I wanted to treat it appropriately, but not as expansively as all of that background material might have suggested. So I kind of had to weave my way through that one. It also was a little tough to write about, because how do you write a synopsis of a show that has had several incarnations quite different from one another, and musical material that has changed from one to the other? With shows like that, I particularly tried to resort to the licensed versions of the shows.
FYSS: I haven't had a chance to read the book cover-to-cover yet, but I did read the Follies and the Into the Woods entries to try to get a sense of how you covered individual shows, and both of those are shows that had significant revisions at different times. And I thought you made it very clear what they were and also where to go for a reader who wants to learn more.
RP: Let me say one other thing this is not directly on this topic, but it sort of relates, and that is that in writing an encyclopedia, I didn't want to overlay a lot of my very individual opinions about things, but with each of the show entries I tried to review the critical comments that were made about the show in its original form, perhaps with significant revivals and that sort of thing, and then to source those remarks from critics at those various points in time. And of course, my own objectivity (or lack thereof) had something to do with what I was selecting, but I thought that was a good way to represent the range of opinion without having to make it all my own opinion.
FYSS: Did you feel any responsibility with regards to canonization when you made choices about what to include or exclude? What made the First National Tour of Into the Woods more significant than the Fiasco production, for example? Why do Side by Side by Sondheim & Sondheim on Sondheim get individual entries, but Putting It Together is relegated to the omnibus entry on revues?
RP: I guess that now you are lifting the curtain on some of my own subjectivity with that question. I tried to identify things that were particularly significant. I mean with the revues for instance, several of those shows – you know, particularly Side by Side by Sondheim, the very early ones – they were the ones I think that elevated him in people’s awareness. So, I think that to me was part of what drove that. And then shows that that were early touring productions struck me as being things that maybe needed a little bit more coverage. I think the Fiasco production was a really interesting one, but with the more recent productions of shows I just felt like there's no end to it if I begin to include a lot of that sort of thing.
FYSS: I mean it's so subjective. I'm not the kind of person who clutches my pearls and screams oh my goodness, how could you not talk about this or that. But I was surprised to see in your Follies entry that the Paper Mill Playhouse album was not listed among the recordings, for example. I imagine that once this book hits shelves you're going to be bombarded with people asking about their pet favorites.
RP: Oh, I'm sure, and maybe that will be a reason to do a second edition, which I’m totally ready to do.
The Sondheim Encyclopedia hits bookstore shelves April 15. It’s available wherever you buy books, but Rick has provided a special discount code for readers of Fuck Yeah Stephen Sondheim to receive 30% off when you order directly from the publisher. To order, visit www.rowman.com, call 800-462-6420, and use code RLFANDF30.
Celebrate the launch of The Sondheim Encyclopedia with a free, live online event featuring Rick Pender in conversation with Broadway Nation’s David Armstrong Friday, April 16 from 7:00 to 9:00 p.m. Eastern. More information and register here.
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Top Five Academic and Publishing Scandals of the last Decade
So, I’ve seen people do stuff like this, a round up of sorts and the 2010′s were an insane decade to be alive.
So, I thought I’d compile my personal favorite publishing and academic scandals
Note: This will concern only things that were actually published or a scandal to do with Academia. The Rose Christo incident with the infamous fanfic didn’t have the biography make it to print so it’s right here as a Dishonorable Mention. No sources, because this was a home-grown tumblr disaster (much like Dashcon).
So,
#5 That Book that Used Scammy Tactics to Become a Best Seller Before Anyone Ever Even Read It.
Remember that time when Handbook for Mortals used shady tactics to make it look like it was selling better in pre-sales than it actually was? I barely remembered it, but then as I was adding in our Dishonorable Mention, I suddenly had the thought of “remember that...” so here it is at #5 since this book was actually published, and it was allegedly terrible. It has 3 stars on Amazon, but with its past, I can’t even trust that.
I didn’t read it. I had, and still have, better things to do than to read subpar fantasy that tried to be the next Hunger Games/Harry Potter/Divergent.
It turns out, if you have wealthy enough collaborators, or people who know how to game the system by which the NYT Bestsellers’ List operates, you too can buy and cheat your way onto that list with a terribly written book like these guys.
What’s even more ridiculous was there were already talks of a movie version and this unknown writer turned out to be, surprise, an actress too! And guess who’d be playing her own main character in the movie? The author! So, once this was unraveled as being a bulk-book-buying-cheat-tactic-to-get-on-the-NY Times-Bestseller-List, they lost their rank and were completely off the list. The movie is also toast, I think, since it would have come out in 2018. We’re now in 2020.
(x) (xx) (xxx) (xxxx)
#4: That time Bethesda Plagiarized Dungeons and Dragons.
That’s right folks. Bethesda, who cannot catch a break after their hilariously disastrous launch of their ongoing garbage fire, Fallout 76, were in trouble whenever they released a TTRPG module for an Elder Scrolls game that was suspiciously like a previously released Dungeons and Dragons adventure...because it was very much ripped off from the D&D book.
There were articles highlighting just how they did this and how blatant it was.
Some articles would do a side-by-side of huge chunks of the text and, yikes, that’s some obvious copy-pasting.
Suffice to say, they yanked this e-book down ASAP. (x) (xx) (xxx) (xxxx)
#3 That Time a Youtuber Turned Professional Games Media Editor Plagiarized for Most of His Career and Only Got Caught After He Plagiarized the Wrong Person on a Very Public Platform
So, yeah. There was a review last year for a game called Dead Cells (published by Motion Twin). On July 24, 2018 a smaller Youtube channel called Boomstick gaming would upload their review to the game. Then August 6th, IGN’s Nintendo editor would post “his” review up and Deadite from Boomstick Gaming, who was actually a fan of IGN, noticed a lot of eerie similarities between the reviews. He did a side-by-side video comparison (here) and it looks like a case of barely even changing the words around after copying someone else’s homework. As an English major, this is a clear-cut case of plagiarism. IGN agreed too, as did most of the internet. This reviewer had fans who still believe in him even after he’s been proven a plagiarist but, no accounting for taste am I right?
And this would have been the end of it....had he just accepted his fate and just slunk off into the dark recesses of the internet.
But, then he had to provoke both Jason Schrier of Kotaku AND the Internet in a now deleted non-apology video to “looking as hard as you’re able, you won’t find anything.”
Yeah. That didn’t end well for him. So, people went digging and found a shitton of evidence he was a serial plagiarist. No shock to me, because plagiarism is never something a plagiarist ever does just “once.” He’d ripped off his fellow IGN reviewers as well as forum posts and articles from other publications. He also plagiarized a resume template. Now, when you use one of those, you’re SUPPOSED to mimic the style, put place your own information, right? Well, he didn’t even do that.
Link to YongYea, a youtuber who covered the topic in depth. He has his videos on the topic in a playlist. (x)
#2 The Professor Who P-Hacked His Results to Pieces
Now if you don’t know or remember who Professor Brian Wansink is, he’s a former faculty member at Cornell who rose to fame with his papers on nutrition and people’s eating habits. I’m still not entirely sure how a guy whose degrees were not in nutrition OR psychology ended up being the face of this field that seemed to have a lot more to do with nutrition and psychology, but here we are. His degrees were, in fact, a B.S. in business administration from Wayne State College, an M.A. in journalism and mass communication from Drake University, and a PhD in Marketing-Consumer behavior- from Stanford. In a move that one might call pure hubris or just complete and total social ignorance, he made a blog post that started to bring eyes on his work. Thanks to the efforts of other scientists (Like the Skeptical Scientist) and Heathers and Brown as well as the computer programs GRIM and GRIMMER, it was found the man who was cited over 200,000 times was a fraud. As of now 17 papers have been retracted and 15 have been corrected. He is no longer employed at all by Cornell, resigning a disgrace to his field and his former place of work.
The only reason he managed to get so big was he was able to make his so-called science digestible for the masses and able to give his works palatable titles. Ok, I’m done with the food puns. He was a superstar (even worked with the previous first lady on her health initiatives), which is why his fall is also meteoric. This is why you don’t torture your data into false positives, folks. Also, he’d target science journals that weren’t as prestigious and therefore wouldn’t have as rigorous a peer-editing process, allegedly.
His actions have brought thousands of papers into jeopardy and destabilized his whole entire field because nothing he did was reproducible and that’s already a huge problem in science.
(x) (xx) (xxx) (xxxx) (X) (XX)
And.... now for the worst Academic Scandal of the 2010′s....
#1 The College Admission’s Scandal
Because despite Wasink’s damage to his field (because now there are literally thousands of papers who cited him in jeopardy), and two separate cases of Plagiarists on this list, I really can’t help but feel this has to be one of the biggest College/Academia scandals of ALL TIME. Sure, it’s old news now but I’m recapping it because that’s what this list is for. So, A bunch of wealthy people who wanted their children to go to prestigious universities wanted a guarantee that just buying a new wing for the library/science buildings/etc wouldn’t get them. You know, the normal way the super rich buy their children’s ways into schools. Instead, they went to this guy Singer whose group masqueraded as a charity (and that’s what got their asses nailed) and facilitated bribery, cheating, and deception. They caught one of these parents who’d gotten their children in with Singer’s plans for a different crime, and he offered to squeal on Singer and his plot for leniency with his other charges.
Singer’s plan usually involved bribing coaches to get these undeserving students recruited for sports teams (and therefore displacing an actual athlete who should have gotten their spot) as well as having people alter SAT scores and other deceptive actions.
It’s unknown if, at this time, any of these children of the 34 charged parents, actually managed to graduate with degrees from any of these institutions. However, those that had any of these students have to now decide what to do with them since these admissions are now verifiably fraudulent. Some are going to whole-sale kick them out or “cancel their admission” and others aren’t speaking up, and one has already decided the student gets to stay. Because they might not have known what their parents did, and its possible for the ones whose parents DIDN’T have them fake athleticism to not know what their mom and dad did. Hell, even most of the fake athletes might not have known thanks to reports of photo shopping their faces onto uniformed bodies. I do not know if any of these children were in on what their parents did, thought I suspect some might have been, but that’s merely speculation on my part. At the end of the day, it’s up to each affected university to carry out what they wish to do next.
The fact they made donations to a fake charity (and therefore skirted the tax man) are the reason they’re REALLY in deep shit. You don’t deny the IRS its money or the IRS will come for your blood. Just ask the ghost of Al Capone.
(x) (xx) (xxx)
So those are my top 5 Publishing and Academic Scandals of the past Decade.
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Tolkien: Maker of Middle-earth
YOU GUYS. I SAW IT!!! OH MY GOD IT WAS AMAZING. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. I saw Tolkien's handwriting WITH MY OWN TWO EYES!
Some context: the largest exhibit of Tolkien art and manuscripts ever available to the public is showing at the Morgan Library and Museum in New York and it's open until May 12. You have to buy tickets there (you can’t buy them online), so I recommend getting there first thing when it opens.
I spent a little over an hour in the exhibit. I don't know how long you'd have to be in there before you were forcibly removed, but an hour actually felt like a good amount of time. I mean, let's be real, I wanted to camp out in there and never leave—but I did get to see everything and take my time. If you can't make the trip, never fear! They've published a book on the exhibit and you can get it online.
Okay, so. The exhibit was AMZAZING. They did such an incredible job. I wanted to let out continuous Nazgul shrieks of excitement the ENTIRE TIME but I think that's probably not acceptable in museums.
As you enter, the title of the exhibit is painted on the wall to your left: Tolkien, Maker of Middle-earth, and it says the same thing in Elvish! Inside, each section has its title written like that! The entrance to the exhibit is a larger-than-life hobbit hole, and through it you can see a giant print of Tolkien's watercolor of the Shire covering an entire wall.
The museum was packed. You don't understand—it was so full of people that we were literally shuffling along in a line the whole time I was in there. Which sounds annoying, but it actually meant that I got to stare longingly at each picture or manuscript for a long, long time without being rushed to keep moving.
The first section was about Tolkien's family, his childhood, how the countryside where he grew up inspired him to create the Shire, and how his mother encouraged his interest in philology. It was really cool to see one of her letters, and her handwriting looked almost just like his! Then there was stuff about how he met Edith, and photos of them, and a picture of their gravestone, which bears the names Beren and Luthien. I'M NOT CRYING, YOU'RE CRYING.
Next we moved on to the section about the Hobbit, and there was another floor-to-ceiling reproduction of one of Tolkien's paintings, this time the one of Smaug and the treasure. And then we went around the corner and I saw THE FIRST EDITION OF THE HOBBIT, AND A WHOLE BUNCH OF TOLKIEN'S PAINTINGS ALL HANGING ON THE WALL.
It was that version of the Hobbit with the green cloth cover, you know the one. Let me say something about this green: it is SUPERB. Like the most perfect green you have ever seen in your LIFE. It's a little grey, but not quite sage green—still very bright. It was so pretty...I wanted to snatch it out of the glass case and possess it for myself. Mine. My own. At this point, needless to say, I had already devolved into a Gollum-like creature intent upon hoarding the entire contents of the exhibit.
It was surreal to see Tolkien's illustrations up close. You know they're beautiful, you know they're amazing, AND THEN YOU SEE THEM. They are real! There they are, hanging on the wall! You can actually see the paint on the paper. They're not very big, but the detail is INCREDIBLE. The colors are perfect. I can't believe I saw Tolkien's painting of Rivendell WITH MY OWN TWO EYES. I've looked at that painting so many times over the years! And that was just one of them—they also had Hobbiton, and Smaug and the treasure, and the Eagle eyrie, and Bilbo on the river, and pen and ink drawings for the Hobbit, and the beautiful dust jacket he designed (!!!), and next to each one it said stuff about what art materials he used, and when he created them, or how he came up with the idea.
Next we went to the section on Lord of the Rings, which also had Tolkien's original cover art for the three books, and MORE illustrations, and Elvish calligraphy! And letters! And maps! And timelines! And plot notes! And it was at this point that I completely lost my mind. I mean, to be fair, I lost my mind years ago, and yes it was because of Tolkien, but that's not the point. Because in front of me. WAS. A MANUSCRIPT. IN TOLKIEN'S HANDWRITING. AND IT SAID:
Arise, arise, Riders of Théoden!
Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter!
Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,
a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!
Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!
GUYS, I STRAIGHT UP DIED!!! But that’s not even all... because I was looking at THAT ENTIRE PAGE FROM THE RETURN OF THE KING! It's just... that whole page... in Tolkien's handwriting! WHAT?! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT WHAT WHAT and it said that Tolkien thought this was one of the most moving passages in the book! It IS! IT IS!!!!! HOW DID HE KNOW I FELT THAT WAY. HOW DID HE KNOW
And there was one of the first maps of Middle-earth he EVER drew—one that he used throughout the years he spent writing the books—cobbled together from different pieces of paper, with faint notes on it in pencil, and ink stains, and ash stains from his pipe!
And I saw the Ring poem, written over and over in Elvish in different colors and styles, and the script is SO! BEAUTIFUL!!!!!
And there was a page of notes in which Tolkien meticulously worked out how far hobbits can travel in a given period of time, relative to humans, to make sure the distances traveled in the book were realistic! THAT'S ADORABLE.
Then we went to the part on the Silmarillion, AND I SAW TOLKIEN'S FIRST MAP OF BELERIAND!!! With his notes on it! AND THEN I SAW HIS PAINTING OF TANIQUETIL! AND IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL IN REAL LIFE! HOW DARE HE?! You can actually see a much smaller Elvish ship in the distance—not just the larger one in the foreground—and you can really see Tirion! YOU CAN SEE IT! Never have I ever wanted so much to transport myself into a painting.
YOU GUYS, there was a detailed Elvish language tree that I had never seen before, not even in pictures. I freaking love language trees!!!!!!!!!!!!! And there was a page Tolkien wrote in VERTICAL ELVISH?!?!?!?!?!?! WHAT?! But this is PRE-TENGWAR ELVISH! Like...he wrote Elvish like you'd write hiragana. I knew he was inspired by Japanese and Chinese art for some of his paintings but I had NO idea he wrote Elvish like that!
And the exhibit explained how this whole world he created was meant to be a mythology for England, because he loved Norse myths, and Germanic myths, and Celtic myths, and Beowulf and the Kalevala, but he wanted England to have something like that—and I already knew this, of course, but it was pretty incredible being reminded of it in the middle of a museum exhibit about Middle-earth because he wanted to create a mythology for England and HE SUCCEEDED! Now his mythology is known all over the world, and it’s translated into hundreds of languages, and it's in museums like sculptures of the Greek gods, with things labelled in the languages he invented... HELP! I love Tolkien so much! I HAVE ASCENDED TO ANOTHER PLANE OF EXISTENCE
In conclusion, this exhibit was SO WORTH IT, SEE IT IMMEDIATELY!
But lest you think it’s only for Tolkien-obsessed lunatics who have read the Silmarillion multiple times and taught themselves Tengwar, it’s not! The signs next to the pictures and manuscripts did a really good job explaining things, and the friend I went with—who is closer than I am to being a normal human—really enjoyed the experience too. So even if you’re a fan of the movies but haven’t read the books, or you’ve never even seen the movies, go see it while it’s still there! Before I stage an elaborate heist
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Stuff I’ve had to deal with as a city librarian, mega edition
4/?
My boss is on vacation, and whenever he does that, a whole bunch of chaotic shit just descends on our heads at once. We don’t know if it’s because he’s not there to nip stuff in the bud or if he just has some kind of calming aura about him that keeps this stuff in check, but we dread whenever he leaves for any extended period of time.
Since I had a few of these backlogged already, I figured I’d give you guys another glance into the weird-ass world of librarians.
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- A woman couldn’t access her email, and flew into a rage because she thought were intentionally blocking her from getting in so we could “hack” her. Turns out she was putting a comma between gmail and com instead of a period. She did not apologize for yelling at us.
- A man called the library and I answered. I tried to do my little “thank you for calling the public library” bit, and he cuts me off to ask for “extension 2606″. I told him we didn’t have any extensions and I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. He sighed dramatically, then handed the phone off to someone else, saying, “Can you talk to this dummy?” A woman comes on and gruffly asks if this is Charlotte. I said no, this was the public library. She just said okay and hung up. No apology there either.
- The DAR were scheduled to come in one Saturday, but never showed up. Come the next Saturday, I was walking by one of our meeting rooms, and there’s the DAR inside. Turns out they’d changed the date of their meeting without letting us know, even hanging on to the keyfab that gets you into the building before it opens. When I poked my head into the room to figure out what the heck happened, they gave me a look like I’d personally stepped on all their toes.
- A guy with a huge cowboy aesthetic came in to do a college essay for a comparative religions class, asking for my help in finding some books. I asked him what kind, and he looked around, over his shoulder like he was afraid someone would be listening, then leaned very close to me and whispered, “I don’t wanna offend you, ma’am, but I’m looking for books on paganism.” I thought at first he was joking, but his face was dead serious.
- A woman brought back ten audio books that were soaked in Dr. Pepper. When I told her that they were wet, she looked me square in the eye, said “yeah”, then walked out.
- A ten year old boy threatened two girls in my book club because he thought they were making fun of him, saying he “should stab [them] with a knife”. I told my supervisor, who went and talked to the boy’s mom, and apparently all she did was say, “Oh, he’d never do that.”, and went back to whatever she was doing on the computer. I talked to her later and she tried to pin it on violent video games. Needless to say, he has no been back.
- I was helping a woman in the genealogy room, looked up, and saw a massive bug crawl through her hair. She didn’t seem to notice at all, and it was all I could do not to keep staring.
- The poor assistant director found three used tampons out in our parking lot.
- There was some legal kerfuffle a few months back regarding the demolition of a building that wasn’t handled properly. This dude on YouTube (his channel basically consists of him “investigating” things like this, meaning he goes into municipal buildings and harasses the staff, using their irritated reactions as “proof” they’re crooked) made a scene at city hall with the city coordinator. We were terrified all the next day that he was going to show up at the library, especially because it was story time day. He never did, but we still had the fear.
- A woman brought her own DVD (I’m still not sure why), and left it on the copier. I thought it was one of ours and someone had just left it there, and when I picked it up to put it back, she said, “Oh no, that’s mine.” I thought she meant she was going to check it out, so when she came up to pay for some copies she made, I picked it up again and went to scan it. She said, “no, that’s mine!” and it finally clicked that it was her personal DVD. I apologized and explained why I did that, and she said “I can bring in the receipt if you want.” I thought she was joking and said no, I believed her. She left, then came back an hour later, pulled me away from my shelving, just to push the receipt for the DVD in my face and say “I’m not a thief! See, I told you I’m not a thief!”
- The amount of people who just...don’t seem to understand why we ask for their library cards is staggering. Like, people will come in without their wallets or IDs for whatever reason, and get pissy with us when we tell them we aren’t allowed to check anything out to anyone without their card or driver’s license. Like, we don’t care if you’ve memorized your number or come in all the time. We wouldn’t waste the plastic if we didn’t actually need you to use the damn things.
- I don’t know what attracts druggies to libraries, but it’s a huge problem. The amount of unidentified pills I’ve found (including in the children’s area) is jarring. One time, the children’s librarian found the finger of a rubbed glove, tied off with something brown inside. We called the police, and it turns out that’s a popular method for transporting heroin.
- My coworker Allie discovered a child playing out in our parking lot, occasionally jumping out into the road. She asked if his family was around, and he said yes, they were inside at one of the programs. This kid’s family had just let him wander away and into the street.
- I came in early one morning only to discover a portion of the ceiling in the computer lab had caved in.
- There’s this very sweet Asian lady who doesn’t speak great English who comes in all the time to print off things for her Sunday school class. She asked for help one night, and after the librarian had gotten her situated, the man sitting a few computers away started making hateful, racist comments to her. She even moved to a different bank of computers, and he got up and followed her so he could keep being a dick. The lady only told us after he’d left because she felt that unsafe.
- We had another bed bug problem crop up, involving a completely different person. Guess who had to go pull all the books that we suspected to be infested. I was itchy all night.
- In honor of the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, I expanded my LGBT history display from a small display case to two large tables. Naturally, bigots have been complaining about it. The worst one has been the couple who thought it was “insulting”, stormed out of the library, and complained to the city coordinator.
- I had to make a membership for a man with a huge swastika tattoo on his arm. It was all I could do not to jump the desk and claw out his eyes.
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Arrr! The Pirate Library
Yesterday, someone over at King Shot Press found himself in a little hot water over some tweets that were...not pro-piracy, I guess, but not AS anti-piracy as some people wanted.
It turned into a whole thing. Because this is the internet, so one person’s opinion on piracy shatters too many worldviews or something.
Frankly, it turned into a big mess. I wouldn’t want to get involved, until...
And when someone said “I honestly don’t see the difference with a library” I felt compelled to say a few things. And to ask myself: Why is checking out a book from the library different from piracy?
Before we get into it, however, I just want to say that the opinion of someone at King Shot isn’t something that induces anger in me. I think it’s an opinion that I agree with in some ways and disagree with in others, and I’m not looking to pile on here. After the library bit, I’ll share some of my opinion on piracy, in general.
1. Scale
When piracy puts a book up online, an infinite number of people can download, possess, and read it simultaneously.
When a library buys a print copy of a book, that’s obviously not true. That book can only go out a limited number of times (50 checkouts is usually too many for most books, physically). It can only be held by one person at a time. And, it can only be in any person’s possession for a limited period.
When a library buys an ebook, similar rules will apply. Overdrive/Libby, the most popular library ebook service, does require us to buy licenses for every copy. Not every title, every copy. So, if we have two copies of something, we bought two. If we have one copy, only one person can have it out at a given time.
Hoopla, another service, has a different model. We don’t buy individual licenses for individual items, and any number of people can have it at the same time. However, the time period is limited, and users are limited to a given number of titles per month. So, one can’t use library service to stockpile a bunch of books that they keep forever.
Piracy and borrowing might not look different from a user POV, but from a view that’s bigger than the individual, the difference is big enough to start having its own gravitational pull.
2. Purchase
It certainly seems like I can check out something from the library for free, so what’s the difference between that and downloading it for free?
The library isn’t “free.” It’s a pre-paid service, meaning you’ve already paid for it, it’s just a matter of whether or not you make use of it. Much like a road, street lamp, or public park. You pay for those things, and then you choose whether or not to make good use of your money.
You’ve also paid for ebooks held by your library. Your tax money goes to the library, the library buys ebook services.
Now, in theory, SOMEONE paid for a copy of a book at some point before it was up for free online. So there’s a similarity here. However, let’s look more closely:
If a library buys a title and it’s very popular, they will buy more. Our system has a policy that says we’ll buy another copy of something for every 5 simultaneous requests placed. If 50 people requested The Martian when it came out, our guiding principle is that we should have at least 10 copies.
There’s no such system in piracy. That one copy is all that’s ever purchased.
To cross over with the above argument about scale, let’s say that my library system bought 10 copies of The Martian. Consider that this is ONE library system serving a portion of one U.S. state. Even if we were overly generous, we could say we cover a quarter of the state. Multiply our purchase four times to cover Colorado, then multiply times 50 to cover the U.S., all of a sudden you’ve got 2,000 purchased copies of The Martian. This is very quick and dirty math, and it’s almost certainly a lowball.
Also, you need to factor in that libraries will be replacing copies of books. So, in the 5 years or so since The Martian came out, the initial number has likely doubled.
There’s another effect here. Once The Martian is a hit, you’d better believe libraries are all over Andy Weir’s next book, Artemis. Pre-orders play a big part in sales. Pre-orders count in the first week of a book’s sales, and large pre-orders help a book climb onto bestseller charts.
You might not care about putting money in Andy Weir’s pocket, and I’m not here to argue about that (for THAT portion, see below). It does warrant talking about, however, in terms of the difference between pirating material and borrowing it from the library. The library is a positive factor in the economics of books. Piracy is not.
3. Mutual Support
There is oftentimes an argument for piracy that’s about piracy being a positive force for folks who can’t afford books. Let me tell you why using your library is better.
The library works like this: you support us, we support you.
You come in, check out some stuff, and that gives us better stats to take to the local government and say, “See, this is important. The community needs this.”
When you pirate something, we lose out on those stats. We become less busy. The local government sees that the library needs less cash. And then, that economically destitute person who can’t afford books? Where do they go now? Piracy? Bad news, economically destitute people are far less likely to have a computer, an internet connection, and maybe even a place to plug a computer in if they DID have one. Oh, and they probably don’t have a fancy-ass e-reader either.
Piracy may be an option for some people who can’t afford books, but if you are concerned with the availability of books to all, the library is a better solution.
~
Let’s talk about some of my personal feelings on piracy, in general.
We Hurt The Ones We Love
I spoke to a very well-known author. This author told me that they’ve had some contractual trouble with their publisher because this author’s books are VERY frequently pirated, which means that the books are popular, but the publisher won’t pay as much because they will have a hard time getting a return on their investment.
Pirating material can have a ripple effect that makes it more difficult for the artists we love to put out more of the material we love. Some might see it as hurting a large, faceless company, but the truth is that we’re hobbling someone whose work we love.
The Money Question
When talking about piracy, there’s always an element of class warfare going on. Why should someone pay the multi-millionaires like Metallica for an album they had to work 2 hours to afford? Why do I care if Harper Collins loses out on a few bucks?
I’m about to enter some uncomfortable territory because the stats are impossible to find. Because, frankly, piracy is something that many people wouldn’t admit to doing. It’s pretty difficult to get a good bead on this whole thing. I tried to find out whether or not piracy is a result of economics, and I could find no evidence supporting or denying that. What I will speak from is personal experience. Because that’s all I’ve got.
Yes, there is probably some kid out there who is economically destitute and the only way he’s getting his hands on sweet books is through piracy.
However, my personal experience tells me that a whole lotta piracy is committed by people who could afford the things they’re pirating and end up stockpiling things they never use.
Let me put it like this: I don’t really have a problem with an individual sneaking into an art museum because they can’t afford to pay their way, and they really want to see the art.
But I think it would be wrong, while sneaking into the art museum, to grab yourself something from the gift shop. Even something small you don’t need.
My morality on this is somewhat flexible, and somewhat capitalistic. If you genuinely can’t afford books AND you’ve exhausted the options to come about them legitimately (libraries, friends, etc.) then I don’t think I’d have a problem. However, if you, like most people, justify the collection and hoarding of electronic files that you could afford to come by legitimately, you’re in a bad moral spot.
Short version: If you are that person who can justify piracy because you pirate only that which you actually view, and you wouldn’t be able to experience art otherwise, you get a pass. But if you’re the person justifying it because someone else is probably too broke to buy books, therefore it’s okay for YOU to pirate, I respectfully disagree.
The Value of Art
Some piracy is justified through saying that pirated things don’t necessarily equate to income loss because they wouldn’t have been purchased anyway. In other words, maybe I would pirate a movie I would never actually pay to see.
*Ahem*
Sure, like Speed Racer. Maybe I wouldn’t pay a single dollar to see it, but I would watch it for free. This means that the makers of the movie don’t really lose anything. Maybe I wouldn’t PAY for a new Metallica album, but I would listen for free.
For books, I don’t know that this is nearly as applicable. Who is going to put in the effort to read a book that they wouldn’t pay the paperback price on? It’s not a passive medium the way movies and music are. The book isn’t just going to happen in front of you. You actually have to do some shit to get the information inside your head.
The real issue on this point is that of de-valuing of art.
Writing a book is hard work. Damn hard work. I think writers deserve to be paid for their work.
There’s a long-standing tradition of de-valuing artistic work as work. Because artists aren’t out there busting concrete.
But I’m here to tell you, art is work. It’s not a blast to sit down and type out a couple hundred thousand words, edit them, re-edit them, send them out for publication. No part of this is more fun than watching Speed Racer.
The writers you want to read, while you’re enjoying a book, binge-watching something, doing whatever you like to do, they are working, many of them doing so in addition to their regular day jobs. Many of them in addition to being parents, partners, and doing all the same bullshit we all do every day.
I also feel, in this time of plenty, that there’s really no need to watch movies you hate, listen to albums you don’t like, and read books that’re no good. If it’s not worth the cost of admission, it’s not worth your time either. Just leave it be and move onto something else you’d pay for.
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College Survival Tips: Hitting the ground running
Okay, I get it, studyblr is full of this kind of post at the moment, but here’s some of my personal tips, specifically for freshmen, but parts of this are applicable to anyone. Like I said in my last college tips post, I go to a big university in Texas, so different resources! Different weather! Different social environment! And a whole lot of football.
The week before:
Try not to go overboard on buying stuff! As a freshman, I was inundated with “helpful” ads from department stores about what I absolutely needed for my dorm room-- and most of it wouldn’t have fit! If you’re in a dorm, your residence hall people will probably have info online about furniture, amenities, and what appliances you’re allowed to have. Same with an apartment, really, except it’s on the website and/or in your lease agreement. Two sets of bedding/towels and a couple of dishes/tupperware are probably enough. (I got oven/micro/freezer-proof glass bowls with lids that have worked amazingly!)
When it comes to school supplies, start off with the same basics from high school, and hold off on buying textbooks! Get a new backpack, too, with room for your electronics. Make sure you have backup chargers for everything, and a surge-protected power strip. (you can be someone’s finals week library hero) Keep it simple: you can always buy stuff as you need it, and it’s likely that you’ll get a bunch of free stuff around the start of the year anyway.
The weekend before:
By now you’ve definitely moved in and gotten situated. Maybe you’ve made it to a few “freshman welcome” type events, maybe your school doesn’t offer any. Either way, this is probably the most important part of your first semester. Pull up your schedule, find a campus map, and figure it out. Know any campus shuttle/bus routes. If you’re really anxious about it, you can time your walking times between buildings. Nobody is going to make fun of a freshman walking around before classes with a map, in fact they’ll probably wish they had done it themselves! If there’s an online map, download that to your phone, as well as all the syllabi that are available so far, because odds are that the school’s servers will be very slow with everyone on them all of a sudden.
No need to print off your syllabi yet, since most professors will hand out a hard copy (in Texas at least, they’re legally obligated to make sure everyone sees it). Make sure to check your school email, since if you are supposed to print your own, you’ll be told there. Like I mentioned in my fall setup post, if you’re putting anything in your planner at this point, it’s a good idea to do it in pencil if you’re not fond of wasting pages. At least put in your exams and big assignment due dates, because it might be worth changing a class if you regularly end up with three exams or quizzes on the same day. Look at finals, too: my school lets you move finals if you have 3+ finals on the same day, yours might not.
The first day!
Breathe. Breathe some more. You’re going to be okay, especially because you’re prepared! Check the weather forecast (>20% chance of rain means it’s a good idea to bring an umbrella, >60% is rainboots weather) dress comfortably, wear walking shoes, and make sure you eat breakfast! Have your schedule where you can get to it easily: some people set it as their background and/or lockscreen, and there is zero shame in that. Check your school email once again. Leave your dorm/apartment at least 20 minutes earlier than you think you need to: roads, sidewalks, and public transportation are going to be really crowded, at least until people decide they can skip certain classes. (don’t skip. you’re paying to be here.) Take your time and admire the scenery: it’ll never look the same to you as it does today. Also, keep an eye out for landmarks, everything from cool sculptures to a funny-looking tree can help you get around later. Just keep track of the time, you’ll be fine.
Lecture halls can be huge and intimidating! If you don’t want to be the first person in the room, just walk around a bit and come back. In any classroom, I prefer to sit right in the middle. Sitting in the front will force you to stay focused if you don’t mind the pressure to do so, sitting in the back will let you people-watch more than you probably need to. Sitting by the aisles is good for a quick escape- just make sure you don’t take a left-handed desk if you don’t need one. Either way, make sure you have a good view of the board/projector! And make sure your stuff is tucked away where nobody can trip on it, especially coffee cups.
The first few weeks:
Don’t buy books until you’re sure. Some professors will do this “well, you’re supposed to buy this edition...” thing. Never buy from the college bookstore unless it’s a lab manual or a book you absolutely can’t find anywhere else. Pay attention to shipping dates. Do make sure that if you’re supposed to be getting online homework that a) it’s the right code b) you’re not paying for something you won’t use! For example, if you get the ebook for free with the homework, you really don’t need a physical copy. Also, sometimes you’ll get a looseleaf book, which is nice because you can break it up and carry a few chapters around at a time, but bad because you can break it up and lose pages.
Make sure you get a good sleeping/eating routine set in as soon as possible, and try to stick to it. Physical activity of some sort is good to work in there too! You can try to set a study schedule, but be realistic about it, and make sure that when you do study, you’re productive. Freshman classes are easier, but don’t let that fool you into slacking off! You’re setting up habits for the rest of your college career now.
I hope that some part of this helps you start your semester off confidently! If you have any questions or want to see something in a future college/study tips post, don’t hesitate to send an ask :) Be brave, be strong, you’ve got this ♥
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An Open Book
Summary: Emma Swan moved to Storybrooke in search of the sense of peace she’d always longed for. She hadn’t realized that she might find it between the pages of a book. Or in the person who wrote it.
Rated: M
Word Count: 23,059
A/N: This was the first fan fiction I ever started. However, it’s been sitting in my drafts unfinished for months with only a couple thousand words written. I never intended for it to end up being this long but inspiration grabbed ahold of me and wouldn’t let go. It’s a bit of a marrying of my two favorite things: books and Captain Swan. Also, I dipped my toe into the shallowest end of the smut writing pool so I rated it M just to be safe.
ao3
Emma Swan sat at the front desk devouring the words of the final book in her favorite series at Storybrooke Public Library during her Friday evening shift.
This shift had become her favorite one to work since surprisingly to her (unsurprisingly in reality), the library was not quite the hot spot on Friday nights. The kids in town were having sleepovers or preparing for the high school football game or seeing a movie, having just finished a week of school. Most adults were at Granny’s Diner or The Rabbit Hole destressing from the work week and the other adults were with the aforementioned kids.
But, Emma didn’t have school or a stressful work week (her work was very unstressful) or any children. No, Emma Swan was a loner who had finally found peace among a bunch of shelves of books and surrounded by the scent of musty old pages mixing with the scent of freshly printed paper. She still hadn’t decided which scent she liked better (and had been given countless weird looks for shoving her nose into the crease of the novel she was reading to give it a good sniff).
When she arrived in Storybrooke a year ago, she hadn’t planned to stay. She just wanted a vacation in a quaint town with a small population of nice people. She wanted a break from chasing down perps so she could give her body (and mind) some recovery time. Emma was tired of being sore and angry all the time and she didn’t realize just how tired she really was until she laid down on the bed in her room at Granny’s and fell into a deep slumber to almost complete silence out her window instead of the honking and screeching and yelling she experienced from the window of her Boston apartment. Her jaw dropped to the floor when she woke up and realized she had slept for twelve hours.
She had finally felt like she could think straight that day. It had been years since her mind had felt so clear, serene. And because she had no idea what one was supposed to do on a vacation in a place like Storybrooke, she decided she would get some coffee (because, let’s be honest, even though she was plenty rested, she had an extreme addiction) and stroll around town, go with the flow.
And she didn’t mind at first, getting stopped along the street to be chatted to. Apparently Storybrooke didn’t get many new faces. She figured this was what people of small towns did. They wanted to have conversations because the people actually cared for each other (go figure). But, when the eleventh person began to wave and stop her in front of the town library, she felt her anger start to well back up and she really just wanted to be left to her own thoughts again. So she dodged the red-headed man she would later know as the town psychiatrist, Archie, and ducked inside the doors.
Emma had always loved the comfort a book could give her. Being in a world that wasn’t her own was always a considerably desirable place to be. And she had been inside many libraries across many states but this one seemed to immediately just seep inside her and fill a tiny part of her shell of a heart. It was smaller than any library she had been to and there was only one librarian who introduced herself as Belle as soon as she caught sight of Emma. And the quiet surrounded her here, except of course for the tiny voices of the novels on the shelves that seemed to be whispering to her, “Read me, Emma. Read me!”
She began wandering through the shelves and discovered that she felt like they were forming walls around her and Emma was very fond of walls (the emotional ones mostly, but a good, solid set of four walls giving her shelter was something she was extremely grateful for too). So as she plucked a fantasy novel (because she wasn’t kidding about liking to be in other worlds) called Sailing the Skies by a one Killian Jones off of the Library’s “Top Picks” shelf, she felt as if Storybrooke had plucked her right out of her life in Boston for good instead of just for a vacation.
Emma registered for a library card before she actually made the decision to move to Storybrooke for good.
Emma checked out Sailing the Skies before she actually made the decision to move to Storybrooke for good.
Emma asked Belle if she could use another librarian and accepted the job as said librarian before she actually made the decision to move to Storybrooke for good.
She didn’t actually make the decision to move to Storybrooke for good until Belle had asked her, “So, you’ll be staying in town then?” and she couldn’t even fathom answering her inquiry with a “no”.
So, she found a small apartment, quit her bail bonds job, moved all her stuff from her place in Boston, and was working her first shift at the library by the following week. Emma was big on saving up the money she earned because she knew her itch to run usually flared up unexpectedly, so the move wasn’t too difficult. And, she was never someone who needed a lot (growing up in the foster system taught her how to survive on very little) so the money she made at the library was enough for now but she knew it would be a good idea to take the town sheriff up on his part-time job offer (she was just afraid to upset the perfect balance she had going).
The past year had been spent reading almost every book they owned (mostly during her shift, because, okay, the library wasn’t really a hot spot any day) and hanging out with Mary Margaret and David Nolan, her overly but so amazingly friendly neighbors that took her in the minute they saw her carrying her suitcase and boxes from her yellow bug up the stairs to her apartment.
The couple, made up of a tall, broad, blonde man and a petite, pixie-cut brunette woman, was walking hand-in-hand up the sidewalk toward her when David offered to help her and Mary Margaret rushed over to their apartment to begin making a home-cooked meal that Emma was told she must join them for. And even though she didn’t like the idea of people taking care of her, she didn’t have much choice when it came to the Nolans and she had to admit it felt kind of nice to not feel so alone. She wanted to start over, to be a different Emma but old habits die hard. Protecting herself (her heart) was always her first priority.
They were only a few years older than her twenty-eight but they were the type of friends (yes, she let herself accept them as friends, two friends as nice as the Nolans couldn’t hurt, right?) that acted like parents. And since she had never had parents, she liked being fussed over by them but at times it got to be too much and she wished they would just have their own baby already.
It took a while for the town to settle down after Emma’s arrival, mostly because Mary Margaret insisted on parading her around town to meet everyone. But she was finally accepted as a normal part Storybrooke, knew everyone’s name, and she hadn’t seen any new faces since (she understood now, a year later, why she caused such a huge fuss back then).
Until now.
Emma had been so hunched over Finally Taking to Land, the fifth and final installment of the Sailing the Skies series, that her face was only inches away from being pressed against the fresh pages and when the door opened she startled herself almost completely out of her leather desk chair, coming too close to smashing her head through the screen of the library’s ancient computer that sat to her right. Seriously, it had been months since someone had come in on a Friday. Looking towards the doors to see who disrupted her from her designated reading time, Emma experienced what it was like to be a Storybrooker (Storybrookian? What the hell was she supposed to call herself?) seeing a fresh face. And damn, was it a fresh face.
It was a feat to take her attention away from a Sailing the Skies novel, but this guy achieved it. He was tall and built a little more muscular than David. He was wearing a dark grey henley with the buttons undone, exposing a chest of dark hair, a black and grey flannel hanging loosely over it, tight dark jeans, and clunky black boots. Emma was met with a pair of cool blue eyes under long eyelashes and a flop of almost jet-black hair as the mysterious new man walked past her towards the shelves, throwing her a smirk framed by red-tinged stubble as he went, somehow looking sheepish and confident at the same time.
She diverted her eyes after realizing she was exceptionally slack-jawed. Probably because she hadn’t seen a new face in a year (ok, it was mostly because he was just really hot). Returning to the comfort of her favorite author’s writing, she did her best to ignore the man meticulously exploring the shelves she kept beautifully organized. It was easy falling back into her book, the story action-packed with just a hint of romance and the words feeling like they came from her own mind. She really needed to hunt this guy down and beg him for more books because surly this wouldn’t be enough. The only description the book gave said that he resided in Ireland and used his sailing adventures with his brother as inspiration for his stories but Emma did have a knack for finding people.
She was more than halfway through the book and had just finished chapter fourteen when she allowed herself to check out the man again. He held a stack of four books, but seemed to be looking for something else, something specific, eyes scanning shelves closely, over and over and definitely not finding what he was looking for. She decided to speak up and see if she could help him, it was the least she could do after gawking at him and, of course, it was her job.
“Can I help you find something?” she asked from her seat, re-tucking her long, blonde waves behind her ears and shooting him a friendly smile.
He met her green eyes, walked a few steps toward the desk, and replied with a lilting British accent, “Yes, actually. I know it is a fairly new novel, but would you happen to have Finally Taking to Land by Killian Jones?”
At his reply, Emma’s eyes shot down to her hands where she cradled said book and her cheeks flushed a bit. Meeting his curious gaze, she slowly brought the book up towards her chest, showing him the cover. He flashed her a large grin and she realized the stack of books he was holding were the first four of the series.
“Um, yeah, the copy I ordered for myself hasn’t arrived yet but the library’s copy was delivered today and I couldn’t wait another second to start reading it. We usually aren’t busy on Fridays and I usually never have anyone come in looking for the book I’m reading,” Emma told him.
“Ah, so you’re a fan of the series then?” the man asked her, stepping up to the counter so he was now directly across from it (and making her feel all kinds of flustered). Up close, she glimpsed a tattoo under his rolled-up sleeve, a name that began with an M just barely peeking out.
“Oh, I love it! This author speaks to me. I can’t get enough of him!” She usually didn’t talk about the series to anyone (barely talked to anyone about anything with how private she was), wanting to keep it as her own secret gem but he obviously already knew about it so she felt like she could gush a little bit.
Giving her another smirk, he inquired, “Is that so?”
“Yeah…” Emma replied with a nervous chuckle and reluctantly added, “but, um, if you want to check it out, I can just wait for mine to get here.”
“Oh no, no, no, lass. You go ahead and finish it. You had it first. I’ll check it out when you’re done.”
She let out a small breath of relief.
He had the rest of the books to read first anyways, but Emma still felt a little bad, like she was putting him out. “Well, in all honesty, I’ll be finished by my shift tomorrow morning if you want to come by then and get it. I can get you a card set up now though, seeing as you’re new in town, and you can check out those first four,” she offered.
“That’s very kind, love, but I already have one. And I’m not new in town, I just haven’t lived here in a few years,” he informed Emma, making her flush with embarrassment. You’re still the new one, Emma.
“Right, sorry. I just moved here a year ago so I’m not quite caught up with all the town history yet,” she said, diverting her eyes to her book. If she tried hard enough, could she jump onto the pages and be sucked into them?
“Well, I should introduce myself then. We’ll catch you up a bit. I’m-”
Before he could reveal his name, Belle was opening the door, distracted by rifling through her purse, and walking towards them in a flowing blue dress and six-inch black heels. Emma absolutely did not understand how that woman dressed like that every day. Emma was more of a dress for comfort type of girl, usually in a sweater, jeans, and her reliable, knee-high brown boots. She and the man watched Belle until she finally reached the desk and looked up. Belle met Emma’s eyes first with a small smile, but when she met the man’s eyes, her whole face was active in grinning with excitement at him. Then she was flinging herself into his arms.
“Killian, you finally made it!” Belle was squealing.
I’m sorry, did she say Killian? Has to be a coincidence.
“I thought I’d never see Killian Jones back in Storybrooke until you called Monday!” Belle said, pulling back to look at him while she spoke.
I’m sorry, WHAT?! Emma thought, sitting back in her chair to stare at the computer’s keyboard while she wondered what exactly just happened to her. Surly it was just a coincidence. He couldn’t be that Killian Jones, could he?
She was pulled from her thoughts when Belle spoke her name. “Emma, this is Killian Jones. Famous author, too-good-for-Storybrooke, Killian Jones,” she confirmed Emma’s wildest dream and most embarrassing nightmare, nudging Killian (her favorite author that she “can’t get enough of” ugh she actually said that to him) in the side. “Also, one of my best friends from high school.”
Oh, and Killian was enjoying the situation immensely, his smug grin just shining all over her existence. Holding out his right hand for her to shake, he spoke because obviously she wasn’t going to with her mouth hanging open like it was. “Nice to meet you, Emma..?”
Emma closed her mouth and swallowed once before sitting up and taking his hand. “Swan. Emma Swan. Um, nice to meet you too.” She wouldn’t dare look him in his eyes. How had she not known that she was speaking to her favorite author (and maybe even her favorite person)? But, to be fair there wasn’t a picture of him included in the books or on his fan site she sometimes visited and googling him too extensively made her feel like she was looking for clues to track down a perp so she didn’t do it. Plus, she kind of liked not knowing what he looked like. It left her only with his words to identify him and she was confident that if someone read her a piece of his writing without telling her what it was, she would be able recognize it as Killian’s.
Turning to Belle, he said, “Emma here is reading Finally Taking to Land, so I can only check out the first four today.”
“You’re fond of his series, Emma? Did you know Killian was from here?” Belle asked her.
“I had no idea,” Emma replied and while she pretended not to be freaking out inside, she asked the last question on her mind. Or maybe the first. Somewhere in the middle? She really needed to get ahold of herself. Emma Swan was always in control (except, apparently, when it came to Killian Jones). “Why exactly are you checking out your own books?”
“Well, I used to spend almost every day inside this library as a lad and it is much of the reason I decided to try to make something of my writing. Belle insisted that it would be a nice addition to the books if I were to write a small dedication inside each of them to inspire more of the young readers of Storybrooke,” Killian explained to Emma, scratching behind his ear sheepishly.
“Don’t you think that would be a cool idea, Emma?” Belle wondered.
“Yeah, that sounds awesome,” Emma tried to sound enthusiastic, but was sure her voice sounded as stiff as cardboard, saying what she should say instead of shrieking.
Belle noticed. “Emma, are you alright? You seem off. You can head home for the night if you want. I was going to stay here and catch up with Killian and then close up.”
Usually when Belle offered to let her off early, Emma refused but she really just wanted to go home and regroup. It wasn’t often that Emma was taken so off guard and she hated how she was feeling right now. This wasn’t how she had imagined meeting the man and it was a little upsetting (but it wasn’t totally terrible).
“Uh, yeah okay,” she agreed while gathering her phone and book from the desk, sticking her post-it note grocery list inside the pages to hold her spot. Braving one last look at Killian as she walked out from behind the desk, she told him, “I’ll bring this for you tomorrow morning,” gesturing toward the book in her right hand.
And of course, he didn’t miss the opportunity to show her another one of his smirks, this one paired with a waggling eyebrow and said, “Looking forward to it, Swan.”
With a half-assed attempt at “see you tomorrow”, she shot a mumbled “seeyamorrow” towards Belle and was throwing herself out the door and down the sidewalk to her yellow bug.
Mary Margaret and David had her over every Friday night for dinner so when Emma got home, she focused all of her energy on changing into comfier clothes and tossing together the salad she promised she’d bring so she wouldn’t have to think about the awful encounter she had with the person closest to what could be considered her celebrity crush. But, often, trying not to think about something only makes you think about it harder.
The thing that most bothered her about her meeting with Killian Jones is that she was caught off guard. Emma did her best to shelter herself from anything that could shake her up so the fact that she didn’t recognize someone who was so important to her made her feel stupid. She hated feeling stupid (mostly because it reminded her of the naivety she possessed when she thought Neal would actually stick around and not, you know, throw her under the bus for his crimes).
And what made it worse was that Killian was there to witness her being caught off guard and now that she thought about it, he had sort of egged her on with his probing question about whether she enjoyed the series that he wrote.
So, no, Emma was not going to feel embarrassed or shocked anymore. She was going to board her walls back up and be angry because it wasn’t her fault Killian Jones decided not to include a picture in his book and it wasn’t her fault that no one told her he used to live in Storybrooke.
She was stewing by the time she made it up the flight of stairs to the Nolan loft, white knuckling the neck of a wine bottle and balancing the salad bowl between her chest and arm as she knocked on the door with her free hand. She could hear David’s booming laughter trailing closer and as soon as he opened to door, she charged in and started in on him (she was good at taking her anger out on others).
“Hey, why the hell didn’t you tell me my favorite author used to live here?” Setting the wine and salad on the kitchen counter, she turned around to face him and vaguely wondered why Mary Margaret wasn’t fussing over the lasagna she could smell in the oven. David coughed and darted his eyes toward the living room in a suspicious manner. When she followed his gaze, she found out why. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!”
Catching her off guard again, Killian Jones made his way into the dining room, followed by David’s wife. He had a weird twinkle in his eye like he couldn’t believe his luck. Yeah, well, she couldn’t believe hers either.
“Emma, this is Killi-,” Mary Margaret started before Emma cut her off.
“Yeah, yeah, I know who he is.” She waved her hand around and watched as Killian’s grin tipped down a bit at her lack of happiness to see him again.
“Nice to see you again too, love,” was his response, smirk sliding back onto his face.
David cut in, wondering how they knew each other. “So, you two have met?”
“Just a couple of hours ago at the library. I stumbled upon her enjoying my newest novel actually.”
“And he kindly let me believe I was talking to a complete stranger and not the author of the book I was reading,” Shooting him a fake grin, she crossed her arms and assumed her defense pose. She wasn’t really angry; she was just annoyed with this day.
“Well to be fair, even though I wrote the book you were reading, I was still a complete stranger.”
What he replied irked her because he just genuinely didn’t feel like a stranger, not after all the things she read in his books made her feel like somebody finally understood her. But he was right. She didn’t really know him and maybe it was better that way anyways. Emma could feel her face turning red and was about to tell him just how much she wished he was a stranger (if only to push him away) when the oven timer beeped and Mary Margaret dashed between them towards the kitchen.
“Dinner’s ready!” Emma heard her cheerful announcement and she slumped down at her usual seat at the table.
As everyone dished up their plates, Emma wondered how Killian and the Nolans met, but made the definitive decision not to ask. Besides, David and Mary Margaret invited everyone to dinner no matter what, practically the King and Queen of Storybrooke.
“So, Killian, have you been back to the old house yet?” Mary Margaret was the first to speak once everyone had filled their plates. Emma and David took simultaneous first bites of their breadsticks (always more of the eat first, talk later kind of people).
“I dropped my luggage off when I first got to town but didn’t stick around for long. Felt really lonely without Liam.” Killian’s voice took on a sad tone and Emma felt implored to look across the table at him. He was looking down at his plate and flicking lettuce around with his fork. She wondered who Liam was but didn’t ask. She could always ask David later.
“Well I’m sure it will get better once you get all your stuff moved in.” Her friend’s statement was followed by a reassuring pat to Killian’s arm.
Oh God, he was moving here and not just visiting? Emma could feel his gaze on her like he was gauging her reaction. She promptly shoved a large bite of lasagna in her mouth and avoided eye contact.
“Emma, Killian owns that house down by the docks with the big porch and the picket fence. Do you know the one?” Oh, Emma, knew exactly the house she was talking about. She loved that house. It was basically the epitome of the home she used to dream about having as a kid. Sometimes when she walked past it, she’d stop and lean against the fence and wonder why whoever owned it wasn’t enjoying it. She’d even thought about using her old lock picks to sneak inside and experience living in it for a night but she wasn’t sure if there were any alarms (it was a pretty large house) and she didn’t want to have to explain to David what she was doing when he showed up in his police car. Emma didn’t share any of this, only nodded while she continued to chew.
Seeing she wasn’t getting anywhere with Emma, Mary Margaret switched her attention back to Killian, who had just begun to eat. David’s plate was halfway empty and Emma wondered how Mary Margaret always ended dinner with an empty plate with all the talking she did.
“Tell us about Ireland!” Begrudgingly, Emma slowed her eating to listen. She was interested in hearing what it was like to visit another country, had always wanted to go on that adventure.
So, Killian regaled them with stories about visiting his cousins, Will and Robin (he seemed exasperated explaining how he had to drag Will out of a bar after he tried to start a fight with a man twice his size and got punched by the man’s girlfriend instead), and about travelling through different towns (she could see how much he loved experiencing new places and meeting different people through the faraway wonder that took over his eyes) and it turned out his author’s description wasn’t completely accurate because it seemed he spent at least half the time he was in Ireland sailing rather than living anywhere. And all the while, Killian wrote a five-book series. She couldn’t imagine writing five books in six years (he seemed completely taken aback when she actually opened her mouth to ask him how long he was in Ireland) but she supposed he had a lot of experiences to draw upon. If she wrote a book, it would probably just be super angsty with a lot of people getting punched in the face for not-good-enough reasons, far from the beautiful world he created.
By the time he wrapped up his final story of the night, Emma found she hadn’t eaten much more of her food but was instead enraptured by his words, her head propped up on her hands with her elbows on the table. It seemed she could get just as lost in his spoken words as his written ones. She took a few more bites before David could stand up and begin collecting plates but didn’t need much more to fill her belly as she already felt full on the wistful feeling Killian’s voice wove into her.
“Have you thought anymore about taking that job at the station?” David asked her as he gathered up their wine glasses. Killian’s eyebrow was so expressive she could see it quirk up from the corner of her eye as she looked up at her friend.
“Are you really sure you want a former cri-,” Emma stopped herself, remembering the presence of the man across from her. “Are you really sure you want me working for you?”
“I wouldn’t have offered you the job if I didn’t.” David gave her shoulder a squeeze as he walked to the kitchen. “I think it would be really great for you and with a lot of opportunity for promotion.”
That was her problem. The job would start with her just filing and dealing with calls but she knew David didn’t plan to let her stay in that position for long. He wanted her to train to become a deputy (they’d spoken about her past and he mentioned that it might be a gratifying role for her to step into) (she couldn’t disagree) and while thinking about that made Emma feel excited at the prospect of feeling purposeful, it was the feeling of permanence that held her back. She didn’t want to work towards such an important role only to run away when she got it. She knew she needed to give David an answer soon (he’d been bugging her for three weeks) but every time her mouth formed the word “yes”, her doubts wouldn’t let her push it out.
“Um… I think… Just give me a little more time.” Turns out Emma Swan was stubborn even when she didn’t want to be. She gave David her best reassuring smile.
“Of course.”
Mary Margaret followed her husband into the kitchen with the salad bowl, knowing not to start into Emma about the job (knowing the prodding only made her shut down more). Left alone with only Killian’s curious gaze as company, she began to rise from her seat and make a lame excuse about having to use the bathroom but before she could open her mouth, Killian was reaching across the table to lie his hand atop hers, his blue eyes searching to meet her green ones.
“Swan, I’m truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable during our first meeting. I simply wanted to know how a reader of the series, such as yourself, felt about the books objectively, without feeling like they had to be nice just because they were speaking to the person who wrote it. I never intended any harm.” She found honesty in his face and looked down at his hand covering hers, not minding it much.
“There’s nothing to apologize for. I was just embarrassed. You should know that I really do enjoy your books. You’re an incredible author.” Her praise caused him to scratch nervously behind his ear. Emma wanted to tell him about the peace his writing brought her, about the way she sometimes felt he’d plucked some of his words right out of her brain, about how she sometimes wished she grew up inside his books where she could have felt the freedom of the wind flowing through her hair as she explored the world on a magical ship. But all those thoughts were a little too personal and when she met his eyes again, he almost looked as if he already knew.
And because she knew she’d already forgiven him (hadn’t even been truly angry with him because he was a stranger) Emma slipped her hand out from underneath his and held it out for a shake. “How about we start over? I’m Emma Swan, an avid reader of yours.”
Her favorite author grinned and placed his hand in hers. “A pleasure to meet you, Swan. Killian Jones.” And because the moment felt too fragile to end it, she allowed her hand to linger in his. That is, until David interrupted.
“You know, I did tell you about Killian living here. But now that I’m thinking about it, you were pretty wrapped up in reading one of those books and probably weren’t paying much attention to me. I think the only response I got was a ‘huh’ and a page turn,” David informed her with a knowing smile. Emma felt heat rush to her cheeks and Killian waggled his eyebrows at her, causing her to chuckle.
“Okay, we get it, I’m a crazy fangirl! You probably shouldn’t have let Mary Margaret tell me where you live because I’ll probably show up at your house at 2 in the morning demanding more books!” She threw up her hands and headed for the sink to help Mary Margaret with the dishes.
“Darling, you don’t need to use the pretense of wanting more books to ask for my company in the early hours of the morning.” Emma looked over her shoulder in time to see his over-exaggerated wink and David punching his arm with a “hey, watch it!” (ever the big brother figure).
–
After finishing the dishes (it was almost uncomfortable with Mary Margaret smiling so hard at her like she knew something about Emma that she didn’t, which she usually did), Emma grabbed her empty salad bowl and went to hug David goodbye where he and Killian were seated at the kitchen island looking through pictures on Killian’s phone. She hugged his wife next and was left to say goodbye to Killian.
He shuffled to his feet and tugged at his red-tinged ear. “Would you allow me to escort you home, Emma?” If it was a further walk, she probably would have said no but it was only down a flight of stairs and obviously on his way.
“Sure,” Emma affirmed and took the lead after he opened the door, both calling farewells over their shoulders. They took to the stairs and by the time he had decided what he wanted to say to her, they had reached her floor. To be fair, Emma did try to keep her steps slow.
“Well, thanks for walking me home,” she told him, turning towards him to smile graciously.
“Wait, you live here?” He seemed disappointed. Had he wanted to spend more time with her? Then she recalled him saying his house seemed lonely. He probably just wanted to spend as little time as possible there.
“Yeah, it’s how I met Mary Margaret and David actually.”
“Well, Swan, it was lovely seeing you again. I’ll see you at the library in the morning?”
As Killian turned to leave, she caught his arm. She knew what a lonely house felt like and didn’t see a reason why she couldn’t offer him a small reprieve (though a part of her brain was shouting a million reasons at her why she shouldn’t), especially since she’d acted a little unfairly towards him earlier.
“Do you want to come in for a cup of hot cocoa before you go? We could even spike it if you want.” His smile caused dimples to crease his stubble.
“I’d love to.”
And so Emma went to work on the hot chocolate (which she would have drank whether Killian was here or not) while he explored her apartment and if he noticed there were very few personal items and pictures, he didn’t comment on it (she had a feeling he understood). When she finished, she placed the two mismatched mugs on the counter and held up a bottle of rum towards him in question. He nodded and she poured a bit in each cup then topped them with whipped cream and cinnamon.
“Just try it. It’s good,” she said at his questioning eyebrow. His tentative sip caused some of the whipped topping to get caught in the stubble of his upper lip and she felt the urge to wipe it away with her thumb as his tongue darted out to get it and at that thought, she swiftly turned on her heel to go sit on the couch. “Good, right?”
“Too right, Swan.” Killian took the opposite end of her couch and smiled thoughtfully when he spotted Finally Taking to Land resting on her coffee table, the neon orange post-it jutting out of the pages and revealing she only had about a quarter of the book left to read.
“What made you start writing?” Even though it kind of felt like she was just talking to a regular man she’d just met, this was her favorite author so she had to pick his brain a little bit and the memories her question brought forth in his mind caused him to look both sad and happy at the same time.
“My mother used to tell my older brother and me stories when she put us to bed. Each night was a completely new story she’d create. I was too young to remember much but after she passed, Liam picked it up for me. It was the only way I was able to fall asleep. Writing seemed like a way I could grant that solace to someone else.” He smiled knowingly at her at his last sentence.
“You know, the first book I ever read and enjoyed was Peter Pan. That’s probably why I’m such a fan of Sailing the Skies. It reminded me of one of the few happy moments of my childhood. It was the first time a foster parent had ever given me a gift and even better, it was something they thought I’d like. I still have it on the bookshelf in my room.” With a shrug, Emma tried to brush off the fact that she so easily shared something personal with him.
Killian’s face was open and he was leaned forward, interested in what she was telling him, like he really cared and she could see he did. It made her want to shovel the words up with her hands and cram them back into her mouth. She switched to a lighter topic. The subject of parents reminded her of the inkling she had about Mary Margaret (The woman had drunk water the past two Fridays at dinner even when Emma specifically brought her favorite wine and gave her shifty eyes when Emma commented on it)
“So, have you known Mary Margaret and David your whole life?” Killian sat back, acknowledging that that was the deepest personal information he would be receiving from her this evening.
“Erm, no. I was born in London and lived there until I was thirteen. By then, Liam was old enough to become my guardian and he moved us to America. More specifically, Storybrooke. Our father owned the house down by the docks and left it to us after he passed,” Killian informed her and she was sure she heard him add, “The only good thing he did for us,” under his breath. “David was in my class in school and I was pretty angry with the world, never particularly wanting to take part in Storybrooke festivities. I’m sure you know how they are.” Emma smiled knowingly, rolling her eyes. “But David kept pestering me about it, trying to take me under his wing. He eventually went to my older brother and then I just didn’t have a choice. So, I went and surprisingly had a good time. Been best friends ever since. No one has ever cared for me like David does except Liam.” He was smiling fondly, staring at a spot above her right shoulder like he was only just realizing the truth of his final statement.
“Yeah, David’s a good guy. I experienced the pestering too. Only mine mostly came from Mary Margaret. But now they’re like the older siblings I never had.” Emma twirled her finger around the rim of her mug, she too having a realization about just how much she’d allowed these two people to come to mean to her. A silence eased in and settled over them for a few moments and it was enough for the rum to catch up with her.
A yawn overtook her (she’d finished her hot cocoa and the spiked drink made her feel sleepy) and as her eyes caught on the object on her coffee table, an idea came to her (seriously that rum was in full effect, it was the only excuse for what came out of her mouth next).
“Would it be weird if I asked you to read your book to me?”
Killian’s breath seemed to catch at the idea but he obliged, swiping the book off of the table and settling in to read. Nothing else needed to be spoken except the lines of his fantastical story as it slowly flowed towards its final chapters.
“Charlie knew that the Captain was expecting him below deck but he couldn’t bear to pull his gaze from the way the sun was sparkling across the water that day. It seemed too beautiful to exist on a day that was sure to be filled with such danger. But that thought only gave him more reason to reach out his hand and let it run through the mist, the water droplets sticking to his fingers the same way the hope he had to soon find Layna stuck to his heart,” he began to read. Emma closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the couch, allowing herself to drift away on his voice, into his story.
When she woke, Killian was gone but her book was returned to its place (the bookmark placed even closer to the end) and there was a blanket lying across her. Emma decided she should probably move to her bed but when she collapsed onto her fluffy mattress, she struggled to fall back asleep which caused her to wonder if, like Killian, she would never be able to fall asleep without the lull of his voice as he told her a story there to pull her under.
And that thought kept her awake for a whole other terrifying reason.
After dozing in and out of consciousness for a few hours, Emma accepted her fate and lugged her body out of bed at 5 am. Her Saturday morning shift began at eight so she would have just enough time to get ready and finish the last bit of her book before going in.
She had just taken a long pull of her coffee when she read the last sentence left in the series, “And though the skies definitely had their appeal, land could be home too when you walked it with the right people,” the drink and a sense of deep satisfaction warming her belly.
And while she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from expressing her gratitude for such a perfect ending to Killian, Emma resigned herself to pushing him away. Last night couldn’t happen again. She’d seen too much of herself in him, felt too akin to the abandonment she’d seen in his eyes when he mentioned his father.
She picked up the book and gave it a little squeeze against her chest (as she tended to do when she finished a particularly good book), gathering her keys and leaving with enough spare time to stop at Granny’s for a bear claw to eat on the way.
Killian was already standing at the reception desk deep in conversation with Belle when Emma arrived, like he’d been there as early as Belle had (he must’ve really disliked being alone in that house). However, when he heard the clattering of the door opening, his gaze shot towards her almost as if he’d been anxiously waiting for someone to get there and when she saw an excited smile form in that stubble of his, she knew it was her.
Belle noticed too. With a mischievous look, she took off towards her office, telling Killian, “We’ll finish up this conversation later.” He didn’t seem too phased by her departure or the abrupt halt he put to their conversation, already drawing closer to Emma as she made her way to the desk, rubbing her eyes as she went (coffee and a sugary donut couldn’t even cure the effects of her insomnia).
“Good morning, Swan. Late night?” Guess he noticed her tiredness too. “Did a certain dashing rapscallion keep you up last night?” He smirked and leaned his elbows onto the desk in front of her, simultaneously raising his eyebrow. “I’m speaking of Charlie, of course.”
Emma rolled her eyes. Charlie, her ass. “Right.” She quickly shuffled through her bag for the library’s copy of Finally Taking to Land, just wanting to get this over with before she did something stupid like flirt back with him. Handing him the book, she recited the speech she’d practiced on the way there. “I finished it this morning. And the ending was perfect, everything I could have hoped for. I just wanted to say thank you for writing this story and ending it on a hopeful note because I connected to it in a way I’ve never connected to anything before. And it was great meeting my favorite author.”
He looked adorably humble and confused as the words rapidly spewed from her lips and then downright baffled when she immediately turned on her heel and left him there to put away the books delivered from the elementary school (and to quickly shut down any idea he had about whatever it was they had going further).
“Erm, that’s it?” Killian asked as he followed her to the biography shelves.
“What, do you want me to ask for a signed copy too?” Emma began shoveling books into their correct spots.
“No, though I’d be happy to give you one, I meant that’s all there is between you and I?”
“Do you attempt to form personal relationships with all of your readers because that seems a little high-main—“
“Of course not! Honestly, I don’t even meet many of them. But last night didn’t feel like I was just being polite to a fan. It felt like I was forming a connection with Emma Swan, a woman who happens to also like my writing.” She could hear the frustration in his voice but she still didn’t look at him.
“Well that’s not what it was for me.” She really hated lying but she hated heartbreak more.
“I don’t believe that. I just think you’ve suffered abandonment too many times and you’re pushing me away because I’ve already snuck my way past a few of those walls of yours.” At this, Emma whipped her head around with a furrowed brow, furious he’d figured her out so easily. He gave her a sad smile, those ocean eyes showing no pity, just understanding. “You’re an open book to me, love.”
She couldn’t help the snort she let out despite her anger. He was just too good at putting her at ease. “Cute metaphor choice.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Emma.” She fingered a peeling label on the spine of a book in front of her.
“I can’t know that for sure.” He already knew he’d figured her out, there was no sense in trying to deny it. With a small step closer, Killian drew her gaze to his so she could see the honesty on his face.
“Try something new darling. It’s called trust.” She stepped back. Trust would have to be built up to. He sensed this and took on a lighter tone. “Oh, and when I said I wasn’t going anywhere, I meant it literally. It’s been awhile since I’ve been able to sit down and read something I hadn’t slaved over. I’d like to return to my old haven. If it didn’t bother you, of course.” His sincerity just tugged and tugged at her.
“It’s a public library.” Her reliance on sarcasm tugged and tugged at her too.
“Indeed.” This time he was the one to turn and leave, giving her some much-needed space.
Emma opened up the next book in her bucket and leafed through the pages, their musty smell wafting up to her nostrils and giving her a sense of calm but her heart stuttered when she heard Killian’s booming laughter coming from the direction of Belle’s office.
She stuck her nose right into the binding of it and inhaled deeply.
(Can you get high off of book smell?)
And so for the following two weeks Killian was in every day for most of the day. He mostly sat and read in one of the old cushioned chairs they had interspersed through the space, the ugly orange looking putrid against his dark clothing.
But sometimes he’d ask her seemingly harmless questions relevant to the books he’d come across while she worked, taking any bit of herself she would offer him. And without her being aware of it, Emma shared things with him she never meant to.
But he shared just as much as she did. Always keeping them on equal ground.
“This was my favorite as a boy. Did you read it?”
(No, she hadn’t really gotten into reading until that Peter Pan novel she’d told him about.)
“I hear this new murder-mystery is supposed to be addicting. Might be good research for the job David is offering you.”
(She still hadn’t decided if she was taking it or not.)
(Liam used to be a deputy. He loved the work he did.)
“Do you fancy romance novels, Swan?”
(Not the particularly mushy gushy ones. Too unrealistic.)
(Surly a little romance couldn’t be all that bad. You just have to find the right person.)
(Weren’t we talking about fictional romance?)
“Please tell me you at least read The Ugly Duckling as a child, what with the name and all.”
(It was actually where she had chosen the name Swan. A boy she’d met on the streets had reminded her that she didn’t have to be the ugly duckling forever, urging her to return to her group home.)
(Sometimes he wished he could have taken his mother’s maiden name so he didn’t have that connection to his father who abandoned them when he was only six and shortly before his mother passed from the sickness she’d been fighting for years.)
“If you could only choose one book to read for the rest of your life, which would you choose?”
(Like he didn’t know she’d pick Sailing the Skies.)
(His would probably be the book of fairytales Mary Margaret bought him for graduation.)
“This one’s about travelling. Have you ever been out of the country?”
(The only travelling she could manage was state to state but she’d been all over the U.S. She would love to go overseas somewhere though.)
(He did have a boat she was welcome to come take a spin on. Wasn’t quite overseas but it was over the sea.)
“’A gripping tale loaded with betrayal and surprises that will leave you questioning every thought you had about these characters.’ Sounds interesting, eh Swan?”
(She’d already had her fair share of betrayal. She didn’t need to read about it too.)
(He’d learned surprises weren’t so great either.)
And when he travelled the shelves with her on that last Friday afternoon, an opportunity arose that she could tell he’d probably been anxiously waiting for. The wheels of her book trolley squeaked as she pulled it to a stop at the farthest corner of the library where they stored old yearbooks and copies of their local newspaper, Storybrooke Daily Mirror. Someone had browsed a yearbook from 1992 and left it in their chair. She couldn’t really blame them. She avoided this spot as much as she could too and she’d seen the young couple that had shuffled off to this area earlier in the day.
She was squatted down trying to see the numbers on the spines on a lower shelf through the dim lighting (something wasn’t right with the wiring of the light fixture in this section so changing the bulb never made it brighter), when Killian leaned against a higher shelf in a nonchalant manner and tried his luck.
“You know, this used to be the secret make out spot for kids when I was in school.” After placing the yearbook in the correct spot, Emma looked up at him to find him suspiciously not making eye-contact, choosing instead to glare at the light like it offended him for not shining as bright as the others.
She stood up, her right hand going to the handle of the now empty cart. “Trust me, it still is. This is the least visited, least visible spot, and Belle and I still seem to catch them every single time.” The last time it’d happened, a girl’s shirt was halfway undone and her partner’s lips were pressed to her neck. She’d only given a gruff, “Out!” and stared at the floor until they’d fixed themselves up enough to rush toward the exit. She didn’t understand the appeal when they could be using a car or hell, even a bedroom (she knew from experience how sneaky a kid with strict guardians could be) instead of the creepiest corner of the local library where they were likely to be caught by an elderly person or innocent kid.
Killian’s gaze swept to hers, connecting intently. “Well perhaps they’re just too young to use it correctly. Maybe it takes a pair who are a little more… experienced,” he pondered and pushed off the shelf, leading with his hips to take a step toward her. The volume of his voice went lower as he leaned his head closer to hers and issued a challenge. “Care to test the theory?”
It was then that Emma finally understood the desire to kiss someone in this little nook. The narrow shelves and darkness made her feel like she was already pressed completely up against him. And she felt such a powerful intimacy with the shadows casting over their faces, like no one could possibly exist in this dark place but them. Usually this intense a feeling would have her sprinting for the nearest door, knocking things over in her wake so she couldn’t be followed but the comforting smell of the pages around her (and maybe even the comforting smell of Killian’s leather jacket and musk) only had her wanting to bury her feet in the floor she stood upon.
But she also couldn’t let him know that. Emma flexed the fingers that itched to run through his hair while she thought about who would surge forward first. “So you’re saying you’re experienced enough to handle it?” Her heart thumped wildly when she saw his tongue flick out to wet his lips.
“I’m willing to let you be the judge of that. Are you experienced enough to handle it?” Killian popped his final “t” and waited for her to make the move. It made her grow even fonder of him, knowing he’d always let her set the pace, knowing he was always aware of how far he should push.
Her hands grabbed at him before her mouth could catch up (like if she had him in her grasp before she kissed him she wouldn’t allow herself to let go of what they had between them so easily when the kiss ended), one at his lapel and the other gripping at the soft strands of inky hair on the back of his head. Emma felt his harsh exhale against her lips before she was kissing him.
At first he was completely pliant under her ministrations, letting her lead in every movement, the tilt of their heads, the opening of their lips, but as soon as she began to let up to take in some air, he was pushing back and taking his turn. She allowed him to walk her towards the wall and press her back gently against it, allowed him the control for a little while.
Killian’s fingers lightly threaded through her blonde tresses and her heart soured right up and over its walls. Because while the slide of their lips was passionate and the exhales of their breaths were rough and the thumping in their chests was practically audible, Emma had never felt safer than she did crammed back in this dark, secluded alcove with her entire body pressed against the man she’d felt more kindred to than anyone else she’d met in her life. Usually a thought like that would shock her straight to her core, but maybe this shrouded moment deflected feelings like that or, more likely, she’d changed by coming to this town, laying down her guns, picking up his book. Killian made her better without even seeing her face.
Words have the power to change you, and they don’t have to be spoken to do it.
But then the faulty light dimmed lower (as it often did) and the shift woke her brain up enough for her to remember that whatever they did back here was something she’d have to face in the light of day and if she took it much further, she might find herself avoiding that responsibility completely.
When she pulled back for air, he shifted on his feet to chase her lips again but bumped the cart, causing it to let out an obnoxious squawk (the old rusty thing was like a century old) and she pressed her palms flat against his chest to put more space between them (and stop herself from diving back in). In a sweet, gentle manner Killian pressed his forehead against hers like he would have been more than happy with this kind of touch too if she hadn’t granted him a kiss.
“That was-,” he began.
“Probably pushing our luck,” she finished as she stepped around him and reached for the cart, noticing her hand was beginning to shake a little. Apparently, that dark corner was keeping out at least some of her panic because the more steps she took toward the brighter front of the building, the faster her pace became (and she was thankful returning that book was her last task of the day so she could go home). He still hadn’t moved though. It was predictable. Killian was always the one steadily there while Emma was too flighty to stay in place.
Right before she could turn the corner and make for the door, he quietly called out to her. “Well we didn’t get caught, Swan. Guess we handled it pretty well.” She could tell he was trying to make the situation feel lighter and get her to stay but she knew there was no changing the intensity of the incomparable weight that moment had held and by the breathlessness of his voice, he knew it too. But Emma still didn’t stop her gate, that is, until she’d stepped around the shelf and ran right into Belle, watching the woman take in her appearance which she was sure included rosy cheeks, swollen lips, and messy hair. Belle raised an eyebrow at her as if to say, “Seriously, you too?”.
And to make the situation worse, Killian, who either thought he’d given her enough time to make her escape or decided to chase after her, rushed up behind her and came to an abrupt halt. Her boss smiled cheekily at the pair but before she could say a word, Emma was on the move again, immaturely deciding to let Killian deal with the woman. Now someone else knew that they had kissed and she still couldn’t even deal with the fact that she herself knew.
Turned out, Killian was wrong on both counts. They did get caught and she apparently couldn’t handle it (and she suspected he couldn’t either).
She accepted David’s job offer that night if only so she would spend less time with the man who’d become pretty talented at chiseling away at her walls. But also because her future felt more grounded in Storybrooke now than ever before (and she didn’t let herself dwell on why that was).
(The tiny part of her brain that wasn’t too afraid to make itself aware of the things that were hard to accept recognized the irony of simultaneously distancing herself from Killian and essentially solidifying a future that was likely to have him in it.)
Emma hadn’t even planned on saying yes. She opened her mouth expecting to hear her usual excuses and then the affirmative just slipped right off her tongue. But when it was out, she finally felt right. She was upsetting the easy routine that was her life in Storybrooke but it didn’t feel as scary anymore (perhaps because Killian had already upset it and it hadn’t turned out so bad… at least not yet). Feeling excited at the prospect of change wasn’t something she was familiar with, the only changes in her life before being born out of fear.
Her married friends broke out in big grins, David exclaiming, “You’ll start on Monday!” (which will probably be fine since she’d informed Belle of this possibility a couple weeks ago and her boss had someone on the wings to start part-time) and Mary Margaret getting excited enough to ask David if they could share their big news too.
“I’m pregnant!” Mary Margaret confirmed Emma’s previous suspicions after getting David’s approval. “We’re waiting to tell everyone but with you accepting David’s offer, it just felt like you were saying yes to being a part of our family too. Sorry, that probably doesn’t make any sense and is totally sappy but-,” she took a breath, wiping at her teary eyes and was interrupted by Emma’s hug before she could continue.
Mary Margaret had told her she felt like Emma was family and while she was very excited by the couple’s baby news, this news held even more meaning to her. “I’m so happy!” she said and, for the first time in her life, really meant it.
(And then David ruined the moment by making some lame joke about the baby calling her “Auntie Em” like in The Wizard of Oz.)
(He was going to be a really good dad.)
As she walked the stairs back down to her apartment, she debated whether or not she should walk to Killian’s house to tell him she took the job but she was too afraid to make it into a huge deal, too afraid she’d psych herself out about it.
When she reached the last stair, she unlocked her door and then locked it (and something else) right back up behind her.
Unable to sleep that night (she hadn’t slept all that well since that night with Killian), she ran her eyes across the small shelf that that held all of her favorite books, stopping on his and thinking about the fact that she’d kissed the man that had written them. But the Killian Jones on the spines didn’t feel like the same Killian Jones emblazoning its way across her heart.
And yet it did.
Emma knew that her decision to not tell Killian upset him because on Monday when David walked her past Graham (Storybrooke’s only deputy) to her own desk (nameplate and all), she found a to-go cup from Granny’s (she deducted it as hot chocolate after a sniff), a single pink flower, and a small card that read, ‘Belle told me the good news. I’m glad you decided to take the job and I’m proud of you, Swan. You’ll be great,’ lying atop it right in the center.
And while that might not have sounded like something an upset person would have done, Emma knew that if Killian wasn’t at least a little disappointed, he probably would have shown right up to her door to congratulate her in person with the hot chocolate and flower.
Belle had given her the weekend off as a little rest before they began the new schedule on Monday (an older lady who wanted something to occupy her time would take the morning shift and then Emma would take the afternoon after she finished at the station) (she wasn’t ready to fully let go of her daily refuge yet) so Killian must have gone in on Saturday expecting to see her and received the news from Belle instead.
But she didn’t have time to worry about how she’d made Killian feel because David was excitedly pulling files out of cabinets and showing her how to log them into the station’s new computer system. And she was tap tap tapping away on the clunky keyboard on her desk and answering calls from Leroy about a missing garden hose.
So she couldn’t switch her focus back to the man until she’d clocked out, left the building, and caught sight of him from down the road leaving the library and heading towards the docks.
Emma thought maybe she would have apologized to him with the excuse that it was such a small deal that she didn’t want to make a fuss about it but now she’d seen that he still went to the library (which she was glad about, didn’t want to be the only reason he had gone) and had left just before she was due to be there.
Killian was really avoiding her. And even though she had done the same to him first, it still felt like a betrayal, like it wasn’t hard to let what they had go, let her go.
Her heart was just wired like that.
Working in the library that day didn’t feel as comforting as it once did.
After that, she didn’t see him for a couple of weeks, but she knew he was still around, knew he had opportunities to visit her but chose not to because she’d see him walking to or from the library with the collar of his leather jacket pulled up to ward off the wind and David sometimes walked her out of the building at the end of her shift with plans to go meet Killian for lunch.
She would wonder why he wouldn’t just bring lunch to the station and eat with David in his office like Mary Margaret sometimes did. Figured it was probably because of her. If he couldn’t even bear to see her for a minute at the beginning of her shift at the library, why would he have gone to the station?
Either she was hiding her emotions well or Mary Margaret and David were too wrapped up in their happy secret that they didn’t notice that something wasn’t right with her because they never said anything.
Emma barely stopped thinking about their kiss. She swore her lips still tingled a little bit if she thought about it hard enough.
(Most of the time she tricked herself into believing it was better this way, better for the stability of the life she’d built here, better for the protection of her heart and other times, well… let’s just say she started rereading his series at night to feel closer to him again and she hated herself a little bit for it.)
It wasn’t until she finally unstuck the bottom drawer of her desk and found a picture of a teenage-looking Killian and a man with his same blue eyes and a couple years on him that she realized she sat at Liam Jones’ former desk and that it was probably pretty painful for Killian to walk in here and not find his brother.
And it wasn’t until she was reshelving a book about ship repair that she found out Killian hadn’t been in the library in the afternoons because he’d gotten a job down at the shipyard that same weekend she’d taken David’s job offer.
(“Killian needed to brush up on a couple repairs this morning. I think he missed working on the ships,” Belle had said and, at Emma’s confused look, added, “Didn’t he tell you he had gotten his old job back at the shipyard? I thought he was going to see you on that Saturday you had off.”)
So he hadn’t told her about his job because she hadn’t told him about hers. But it still hurt that he just let her believe he didn’t want to see her. And yet she knew he still cared because if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have sent her that flower and note. Except, she had only assumed those things were from him because the sender would have addressed her as ‘Swan’. It hadn’t been signed ‘Killian’. At least she didn’t think so.
When she got home, Emma flipped open Sailing the Skies (where she’d stashed the card for safe keeping) to inspect it and found that no, it hadn’t been signed but then she flipped it over and gave herself a big old facepalm. She hadn’t realized he had finished his note on the back, hadn’t realized the punctuation after “You’ll be great” was a comma and not a period.
The back of the card read, ‘I’m sure of it. I’m sorry we won’t see as much of each other, as I’ve gotten a job down at the shipyard in the afternoons. But here’s my number and you know where I live. Killian.’
So it was all some huge misunderstanding and he probably thought she was avoiding him as much as she thought he was avoiding her.
And yet she still didn’t go see him, still didn’t call him even though she had his number now.
She was too afraid she had hurt him, that he wouldn’t want to see her after all this time.
It wasn’t until his fan site sent her that article (she’d forgotten she’d subscribed, the last time they’d sent her something was to announce the release of Finally Taking to Land) that she went to see him.
Killian had begun to feel like just her favorite author again, like those two weeks were just some fantasy she had dreamt up.
But after reading that article, she remembered that he was an author she could yell at, that he was a man she knew personally who hadn’t told her this incredible news.
It was 1:30 am on a Thursday when she’d thrown on a sweater over her sweatshirt and leggings and stomped her way down to his house, forgetting she had a car she could have driven in her haste. But she thought it was worth warding off the early spring chill to hear the angry clacks her flip flops made on the sidewalk.
When she reached Killian’s fence she’d thrown her shoulders back and walked confidently up the stairs of his wraparound porch and just as she’d been about to bring her hand down into a hard pound on his door, his voice cut through the night.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Swan?” Emma whipped her head to the right and found him gently swaying in the center of his porch swing. He was barefoot and wearing loose sweatpants and an oversized long-sleeved t-shirt (in his usual dark color scheme), balancing a beer on his knee, and he would look totally relaxed if not for the look on his face, a look that made him seem like he was desperately holding himself back from hoping.
She almost lost her nerve at that look but caught herself. “Sailing the Skies is being adapted into a movie?” Her voice was loud enough to cause the crickets to halt their chirping.
“Ah, this is one of those ‘fangirl’ appearances you warned me about,” he said, dropping his eyes. She hadn’t even realized how late it was. Or actually how early. It made her wonder why he was out here and not in bed. Oh God, this was the first she’d spoken to him and weeks and she was about to wake him up and drag him out of bed just to yell at him. Why was she like this?
“Sorry. I hadn’t… I didn’t realize…” her stunted apologies just kept coming so she got right to the reason she was here, wanted to make this short so she was out of his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Killian let out a bitter chuckle at that, started scraping at the edges of the top label on his beer bottle with his thumbnail. “Sorry, I should have known you would have wanted to be the first fan to know.”
That stung. But she kind of deserved it for how she’d treated him, unintentionally or not. And he had his walls too. It wasn’t fair of her to expect him to welcome her back without a little defense at first. It was why they understood each other so well.
Emma sighed and walked toward him, raising her eyebrows at him to silently ask his permission to sit. He scooted over. “I didn’t expect to be the first person to know. But I did want to be one of the first you told. Because it’s a huge deal for you and I thought maybe you would have wanted to share that with me. Someone who is proud of what you’ve accomplished, someone who cares about you.”
“Like you told me about taking the job at the station? Like you told me you didn’t want to speak to me again?” Killian was looking at her with wide eyes and a whole lot of hurt.
He deserved the truth. She trusted him with it. Trusted him to understand.
“I was too afraid that I would tell you and you would be really happy for me. I was afraid that you would really care and that I would like how that would feel,” Emma told him in a wobbly voice. His face softened a bit, his frown didn’t look as tight. “And I was avoiding you because I thought you were avoiding me. I didn’t know you’d written on the back of that card. I was too focused on realizing how much it probably upset you that I hadn’t told you. And when I finally discovered my mistake, I figured I had screwed everything up too badly already.”
She couldn’t face him confirming her last statement so she shifted her eyes down toward her hands where they were picking at a loose thread on the hem of her green sweater. But then Killian’s hand came into view too as he placed it gently over her wrist.
“Of course I was happy for you. I am happy for you. And I do care. Whether you say these things to my face or not, I will always care. I know you, Emma. And I can’t unknow you. I can’t uncare. So you didn’t screw everything up. I should have found a bigger card or drew a little arrow or something.”
The thought of a tiny arrow fixing weeks’ worth of misunderstanding made her let out a short laugh and meet his eyes again where she could see the edges of his smile crinkling their corners. “Yeah, an arrow probably would have been helpful.”
It was quiet for a few moments before he confessed, “You know, I haven’t told anyone about the movie yet.”
“Not even David?” He was Killian’s best friend. She thought for sure he’d told David on one of their lunch trips and passing the news onto her had just slipped the man’s mind.
“Not even David. When I first got the call a few days ago, the first thing I did was run home, ready to tell Liam. But then I got here and the house was empty. Being back in this town, working down at the shipyard like I did when I first graduated high school, hanging out with the Nolans again, getting to know you has just made me feel so much like the person I was before I lost him that for a moment I’d forgotten that he wasn’t here. And after I remembered that I couldn’t tell him, it hurt too much to tell anyone else.” His eyes had gone watery so she snatched up his hand and held it tight within hers and as they swung in the breeze, he shared the story of how he’d lost his older brother.
Nobody liked to talk about it, but Storybrooke wasn’t always as boring and peaceful as it was now. There was a period of time when Killian was in his late teens to early twenties when the town was being led by a corrupt mayor (the current mayor’s mother) (Regina was very different from Cora, Killian assured her). Liam was a deputy at this time and discovered the citizens’ tax dollars were lining someone’s pockets and suspected Cora. When he got too close to outing her, the woman set up a trap. Called the station and said she’d seen someone lurking in the woods surrounding her home. When Liam arrived, she shot him and then claimed she thought he was the person she’d seen outside, that he hadn’t announced himself.
But that “wasn’t bloody likely” because Liam was incredible at his job and wouldn’t have forgotten something so important. And more than that, Killian knew about the contents of the secret copies of all of Liam’s evidence he kept in a locked drawer in his home office. And it was a good thing because when another cop went looking for the files at the station, they had miraculously disappeared. And since the woman hadn’t known about the secret copies or the secret help Liam had gotten from his fellow deputy or that he had recorded the exchange at Cora’s house that night, they were able to lock the woman up. She was in a state penitentiary a few hours out of town now.
Killian had been training with David to become deputies between his shifts at the shipyard-
(“Why did you start working at the shipyard again? Shouldn’t you be writing or something?”)
(“You sound like my agent. I missed being around the ships and the water. It’s where most of my inspiration comes from anyways.”)
-at the time but after he lost his brother, he couldn’t bear living in Storybrooke without Liam, let alone walk into the station and not see him hunched over his desk, determination in his brow. Upon later reflection, he realized he never really wanted to become a cop anyways, just wanted to be like his older brother.
(“So that’s why you never came in when you had lunch plans with David? Not because you didn’t want to see me?”)
(“Have you been keeping tabs on me, love?… Aye. When I dropped those gifts off on your first day, I went early and waited outside the building for David to get there. But I almost went in. Looked through the window first. Everything was just much too unchanged. It looks exactly the same. Even the desks haven’t moved an inch.”)
(“Which reminds me. I think I have Liam’s old desk. I found a picture of the two of you in one of the drawers. I can bring it to you if you’d like.”)
(“I’d love that, Swan. Thank you.”)
So, he’d left town for Ireland (even with David and Mary Margaret begging him to stay), a thirst for revenge sitting heavy on his tongue, anger gritting his teeth.
And when he’d gotten drunk one night about a year later and began typing on his laptop about a boy, and a flying ship, and an adventure (the first time he’d written since Liam’s passing), he’d realized that writing was the only thing that would get him over those emotions (his characters took on all his fight).
(“Liam had always instilled in me the idea that the pen was mightier than the sword.”)
And when he finished his tale, Emma didn’t apologize for his loss or share a sad story of her own because she knew that wasn’t what he needed. What he needed was the company of someone who understood on this lonely porch of this even lonelier house.
So she entwined their fingers and laid her head against his shoulder, sat in the cool night until her eyelids began to droop and goosebumps formed on her skin.
At her yawn, Killian shifted and told her she should head back to her apartment and get some sleep. And when she asked if he ever slept, he replied, “I usually sit out here until I can’t keep my eyes open and then go straight to bed.”
That sounded so incredibly heartbreaking to her that she almost offered to stay with him. But she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.
Instead, she let him walk her to his front gate and when he offered to walk her home, she turned him down, wanting the solitude to give her some space to think. She had a lot to think about.
“Again, I’m sorry for all the weird avoidance. And for charging up to your door in the middle of the night like a crazy person,” Emma apologized with a small laugh, shuffling her feet and crossing her arms so she wouldn’t wrap them around him.
Killian looked ethereal in the moonlight shining down on them through the clear sky, maybe even like a dark fairy with his slightly pointed ears. When he shot her a genuine smile, she swore it was a little magical. “It was sort of a group effort, love, so don’t worry yourself over it. And feel free to stop by in the middle of the night anytime, whatever your motive is,” he gave her a wink. Then took on a more serious tone. “I mean it. As you can see, I’m usually up anyways.”
“Okay.” She turned to leave but then stopped to look back at him and add, “Seriously, congratulations on the movie. I’m glad more people are going to be able to experience the story you created. And you know I’m going to be one of the first to see it.”
“Thank you, Emma.” She nodded and took a step toward town but stopped again at his voice. “And there won’t be any more avoiding? Or did you want to try to start over again?”
His question made Emma think of his words from earlier and how much he’d opened up to her. “No more avoiding,” she confirmed. “And we can’t start over because we can’t unknow each other. Besides, I don’t want to start over. I think I like where we are right now.”
Killian ducked his head and looked up at her through his eyelashes, seemingly in an attempt to hide the excited smile she could just catch the edges of.
That’s when she finally took her leave.
And while she walked, she found that her steps were more steady and solid than they’d ever been the past year, because that “walking on eggshells” feeling she’d always had in Storybrooke had weakened after her time with Killian.
Emma had been trying desperately to hold on to the serenity of the perfection of this town but after hearing Killian’s story, she’d learned that it was never perfect to begin with and that every place, every person, everything had at least a little darkness in them.
And if she could find the closest thing she’d ever felt to security, peace, a home in a place like this, finding something similar in Killian (hypothetically, of course) couldn’t be so bad. Right?
Emma’s life became a whole lot busier than she was used to after that night, mostly by her choice.
She’d finished with the new filing system so her shifts at the station slowly became more training oriented. She’d ride with Graham out on patrol or listen to David as he explained different protocols or sit with both of them as they went through the arrest process and complained about the worst ones they’d had to deal with.
Her shifts at the library were basically the same, but her brain was filled with so many more prospects and plans that loading books on and off of shelves seemed weirdly hectic.
She’d spend most of her evenings with Killian (always making her worry that she was keeping him from his writing) (It was his career after all.), either reading together at the library after they got off work, or having dinner while watching TV at her place.
On one of those nights, when none of their shows were on and he was looking at her particularly intensely over his Chinese in the quiet of her apartment, she decided it was time to share a piece of herself with him.
She showed him an article from twenty-eight years ago that detailed a story of a baby found abandoned on the side of a road in Maine wrapped only in a baby blanket stitched with the name Emma. An article that detailed her beginning, detailed the reason her abandonment issues began.
And when she showed him the blanket that she’d kept all these years, he held it gently and traced his pointer finger reverently over each letter of her name. Emma swore she could almost feel that finger tracing over her heart.
But they were friends, even though she always felt that kiss sitting heavy between them, neither one mentioning it. Not once. Maybe they both just needed time.
Or maybe Emma was just far too stubborn to be the one to broach the subject. Things were good how they were. She would need to ease into a change like that.
That didn’t mean she didn’t care for Killian more than she usually cared about friends (even though she tried to deny it with all she had).
In fact, she cared so much that the nights she wasn’t with him, she was down at the station redecorating. Redecorating. She couldn’t believe it either.
While she couldn’t do a whole lot with her budget and specific regulations, she repainted the white walls a soft, pale yellow, cleaned off all the bulletin boards (there were seriously flyers from years ago), moved all of the filing cabinets so they sat together on one wall, rearranged the desks in a much less crammed fashioned and, most importantly in her mind (and the most nerve-wracking), she had a bigger, nicer plaque (apparently the station already had one but it was small and half-hidden behind a tall stack of boxes in the main room) made for Liam Jones and hung it on the wall beside the front windows right where his desk used to sit.
But Emma never told Killian what she’d been doing because she didn’t want to make him feel obligated to come in and see it if he wasn’t ready. She just wanted to make the space feel different and less daunting if he ever had a reason to stop by the station.
David loved the idea and loved the results of her project, and when Mary Margaret came to see it, she got so excited she made Emma promise to help paint and decorate their baby’s nursery even though she’d already roped her into helping decorate for their party at that week where they planned to announce their pregnancy.
And apparently one of them loved it enough to spill the beans (probably Mary Margaret) to Killian because the next morning when David was out on patrol and Graham was out on a call, she heard apprehensive footsteps rounding the corner and looked up to find him standing there taking in the room with a disbelieving eye. He hadn’t quite entered the room completely, like he wanted to be able to escape as soon as possible if it became too much (that made a lot of sense to her).
When Killian finally finished scanning the room, he turned his gaze on her. It made her flush and shoot nervously up to her feet.
“You did this?” he asked her, gesturing around the room with his hand. And now that he was here, she was second-guessing herself. Maybe she made it worse for him to see this place.
“Yeah. I can change it back if you ha-,” He stopped her before she could finish.
“No, no, no,” Killian took quick steps toward her in time with his words. “It’s incredible, Emma. It looks really nice. It’s completely different.” At her panicked eyes, he laid his hands against her upper arms and continued. “That’s a good thing. I don’t feel like I want to shove my fist through the wall. And I hope no one else ever does. That’s a gorgeous color.”
She sees him glance towards her hair and knows he’s noticing the shade isn’t too far off from it.
“I just thought that if there was ever a day where you had an emergency or wanted to come in to see David-,” Emma stopped when Killian cut in.
“Or you.” He added with confidence. She had to finish her sentence through a smile.
“-or me, a new setup might make it easier. But I wasn’t going to tell you. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come see it if you weren’t ready.”
“Aye, well, as you probably know, Mary Margaret is pretty bloody terrible at keeping secrets. Plus, I’ve been trying to build up the courage to visit the place, anyways. I figured the redecoration had to have made it somewhat easier, that and you being here.” He shifted his eyes downward to watch as his hands slid down her arms to clasp her hands, but her eyes were firmly glued to the plaque on the wall behind him.
Emma was still nervous about his reaction to that, wasn’t sure if he’d noticed it during his first once-over.
Killian followed her gaze when he caught her. And then she followed him as he took slow steps toward that picture of his brother.
He was quiet and still for a while, only moving to lift his hand and run a finger down the edge of it, and she was sure he hated it, so she tried to explain herself. “The other plaque wasn’t in the best shape and I thought he deserved a much nicer one. Hanging it over the place he used to sit seemed like the right placement for it. But I can take it down or move it or you can have it. I just want to do the best thing here.”
(She wanted to lift some of that pain off of his shoulders.)
There were tears pooling in his eyes when he half-turned to look back at her. “Swan, it’s perfect. You’re correct. This is indeed where it should be. Of course, Liam would have bloody well hated the attention it brought to him, but he deserves to be honored in some way. Thank you. Truly.” A tear slipped loose at his final word and Killian quickly whipped back around to hide it from her.
Crying was a vulnerable thing to do in front of someone and Emma wanted him to know that he could trust her with his tears so she stepped up beside him and took his hand.
She’d never had so much appreciation and adoration aimed at her than she did when he turned toward her and swept her into a hug, one arm over her shoulder and the other around her waist. After a moment and a deep, steadying breath, she returned his embrace.
Gently, his fingers began threading through the hair hanging down her back and she relaxed even more, angling her face into his collar and breathing in the scent that had become so familiar, so comforting to her.
They held each other for what seemed like ages and yet when he began to pull back, she wasn’t quite ready to let go. Perhaps Killian wasn’t either because he didn’t remove his arms from around her, only arched backward enough to meet her eyes.
In Killian’s third book, there was a part where he described this feeling a person gets when they sense a big shift coming, a turning point. He said that even if there isn’t a huge catalyst of a warning, your body just knows, you can feel a humming in your bones, your feet itch to round the corner and figure out what this change will be, your eyes strain to notice anything different. But most prominent of all, your heart seems to pound quicker and slower at the same time.
Emma had related to that feeling when she first read that book, but she had never experienced it as strongly as she had in this moment.
He hadn’t warned her that it could be so overwhelming that she’d lose her breath.
Perhaps that was the reason she ducked her head when she was positive he was going to kiss her. It certainly wasn’t because she didn’t want him to kiss her.
Somehow, she sort of believed he knew what was going on in her mind, could read the words she was thinking of through the crown of her head because he took a step backward, not leaving, just giving space. (She really didn’t want him to leave.)
A ray of sunlight slipped low enough to poke perfectly through the branches of the tree in the yard to glare into the window and over the spot where they were standing.
“It’s a beautiful day for sailing. I was thinking about taking the boat out this evening if you’d care to join me?” Looking at Killian, she could see that he hadn’t really been thinking about it before but she was glad he was now.
Maybe it was because she felt a little bit like she was going to be living out a part of her favorite books or, more likely, it was because she craved the experience of another side of him, craved his presence beside her, craved the shift she sensed, but she was excited at the idea.
“I’d like that. Will Charlie be there?”
Emma stared in her mirror and contemplated taking the necklace off. Bringing her fingers up to touch it, she felt the ridges of the upraised swan rubbing against the pad of her pointer.
It had started as a keychain when Neal bought it for her all those years ago but after he abandoned her with the watch he stole to be arrested, she removed the pendant and slid it onto a chain that would fit around her neck.
She wore it every day (usually tucked under her shirt so no one would ask about it) to serve as a reminder. A reminder of what placing her trust, her heart, into the hands of another person could do.
Tonight was the first time she’d felt inclined to remove it. And it wasn’t just because of the lower neckline of the flowy, powder blue dress she’d decided to wear for her outing with Killian.
It was because she almost felt like maybe she didn’t have to worry about what it stood for when she was with him.
But still. She hesitated. And that moment of hesitation was long enough for a soft rap to sound at the door of her apartment.
So Emma left the necklace resting in the center of her chest, floofed her curled locks over her shoulders, slipped on her strappy sandals, and made her way toward the noise.
By the time she opened the door, the man on the other side was poised to knock again so his fist hung in the air between them as they took in the appearance of one another.
Killian was wearing a dark button down (that she could see had a paisley print in a certain light) rolled to his elbows, straight, dark jeans, a shiny pair of black dress shoes, and an awestruck expression.
His fist lowered down to his side, now giving her a view of the chest he always had exposed (though tonight it wasn’t on display as much as it usually was, there weren’t as many buttons undone), the light dusting of dark hair there, and his other hand pushed into the space separating them holding the same kind of pink flower he’d given her that first day at the station.
“You’re a vision, Swan,” he breathed as she plucked the flower from his grip.
Emma delicately placed it into the vase that rested upon the table beside her door, making a note to add some water when she got home. “You look pretty dashing yourself.”
Her appraisal brought a big smirk to his mouth, as they’d had a few conversations about how he fancied himself a pirate and descriptors like dashing, charming, rapscallion (she found it ridiculous but endearing all the same, seeing that his main character inherited quite of few of the author’s traits).
The walk toward the docks was quiet but exciting, shy smiles, quick footsteps, and hand brushes filling up the silence. For the first time in a long time, Emma felt the thrill of nerves she used to get around a crush when she was a kid. But, upon reflection, she realized she wasn’t nervous that she would do something embarrassing and lose his attention, she was nervous he would let her kiss him, nervous her feelings for him would grow even deeper and take root, nervous those things would freak her out and make her run.
In the time she’d known him, Killian had never shown her his boat, so it was a little magical when they came upon it. Because it had always been docked here. She was familiar with the name painted on the side (though now the letters of The Jewel seemed to be repainted) and the towering mass of it, had seen them on the walks she sometimes took down to the water, admired the way the waves and sun reflected off of the shiny body.
“This will be my first time on the old girl since… well. I’ve missed her. She’s a marvel, isn’t she?” Killian sounded passionate as he helped her up onto the deck and strode around readying it for sail, his short hair flipping a little on the breeze. She stood on the edge out of the way and watched, the words he’d written about a boy who loved being out on open water ringing in her head.
Charlie traveled the deck toward the wheel, a confidence in his step that hadn’t been there before the Captain took him under his wing. He only wished the man who had become his closest friend was here to see him now. Although, he probably would have teased him for the way his eyes never seemed to stray too long from the woman standing near the prow and the way her long, red waves flew wildly with the wind. It seemed he was partial toward waves, whether they were the ocean’s or Layna’s.
“Not to worry though, Swan. I’m not out of practice. The Jewel is just far superior to the others I sailed the last few years. You never forget your first,” he said, stopping in front of her just so she could catch his wink.
“Well, this is my first time on a boat so I hope it’s pretty memorable.”
It’s not often that a reader gets to experience what it’s like to live inside their favorite story for a moment, besides only picturing it inside their mind. Sometimes it almost comes close if an author’s words are descriptive and transporting enough, but even then you can’t see the real thing with your eyes or feel it on your skin.
So Emma was going to enjoy this.
She sat at the front of the deck with her head tilted back and her arms propping up her upper body and she used all of her senses to soak up the moment.
Her eyes took in the view of rippling water being met with sky at the farthest point out, an oranging sunset meeting dark teal ocean and if she turned around, she could see the town that had begun to change her as they hadn’t travelled too far out.
The scents of seawater and fresh spring wind mixed with the greasy smell of the grilled cheese, hamburgers, onion rings, and french fries whose wrappers sat on the blanket beside her to fill her nostrils.
The taste of those favorite foods of hers rested on her tongue.
Emma could hear the sloshing of waves and the quieter sound of the sails billowing gently in the air above her.
Her skin seemed to experience the most. The palms of her hands pressed into smooth wood. Her exposed legs bathed in the last tendrils of warmth the evening had to offer. The scalp of Emma’s head was tugged every so often with her flowing locks getting caught on a stray breeze. A long-lasting smile pulled her cheeks taut. Most prominent of all, she could feel Killian’s eyes on every inch of her, causing goosebumps to rise.
“Are you enjoying yourself, love?” He asked her after many minutes of silence. She really, really was.
“I am. I feel like I’m Charlie relaxing after a big adventure. Or maybe it would be before. He’s always in between them, isn’t he?”
“Does that make me Layna, then?” He raised a teasing eyebrow at her.
“I don’t think your hair’s long enough.” Her reply nudged forth sweet chuckles from them both and Emma felt a piece of this night click right into her heart. But she hadn’t realized her walls were down enough for that to be possible. That thought brought her hand unbidden to the pendant around her neck.
Apparently that brought his attention to it.
“I always wondered what was on the chain you wear. A swan for a swan, eh?” Emma could only smile in return, hadn’t figured out how to voice the Neal story. At her silence, he continued, “I wear one too. A chain. Mine has a ring on it. Liam called it his lucky sailing ring. Said it brought good weather.”
He reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out a silver band with a circular ruby gem. She hadn’t noticed the chain before with his shirt buttoned more than it usually was. Killian held it out so she could see but kept his gaze out toward the open water.
“I took up his habit of wearing it sailing after he passed. I sometimes even wear it when I need a bit of confidence. Gods know I need all the bloody luck I can get.” At his last sentence, his tone took on a sad, dark note and when she brought her eyes to his face, she could see he was remembering something terrible, something other than his brother’s death. Emma wondered what else he could have possibly endured.
“He told me he got it from our mother when our father took them sailing before I was born. The man himself never extended that kindness to me. Liam fell in love with sailing during that single trip so he learned and then passed that love onto me when I was old enough. I suppose it runs in our blood.” She couldn’t tell if he was proud of that or hated it, probably a little of both. “We got a lot of use out of this thing when we moved here and found this lovely lass,” he finished with a loving pat to the deck beneath them.
“Mine isn’t exactly lucky. The reason I have it certainly isn’t at least,” Emma began. “It started off as a keychain. A stolen keychain.”
She told him that it wasn’t the only stolen thing she owned. The first time she’d seen the little yellow car she drove, she had to have it. Not just because she needed a convenient object in which she could both travel and sleep. It was because its bright color almost seemed to symbolize its ability to take her somewhere better, somewhere without the darkness she felt bogging her down in Portland.
So she attempted to steal it. The only problem was that someone had already stolen it. The man who popped up from the backseat and almost caused her to swerve off the road. She’d found it romantic at the time, so she didn’t mind very much that she’d have to share her find.
Neal wasn’t exactly charming, but Emma related to him in so many ways (both orphans, both running away, both stealing to get by) that she quickly formed a strong bond with him that developed into the only kind of love she’d felt in her eighteen years.
They did all of their stealing together after that, even snuck into musty motel rooms so they could have more room than the back seat of the bug. And while she and Neal enjoyed referring to themselves as Bonnie and Clyde sometimes, she never thought about the tragic ending they were bound to face if that was who they were.
Neal stole the keychain for Emma from a small shop not long before their relationship ended, not long before he abandoned her just like the rest of the people who were supposed to love her. Only his abandonment was worse because it came with a betrayal, a jail sentence for his stolen watches that were supposed to take them to Tallahassee for a new beginning.
After she was released, she discovered that Neal had felt guilty enough to leave her the car at least, had found the swan keychain hanging off of the keyring.
The pendant followed her through her long period of anger. The period in which she stole risky things for fun instead of out of necessity and skipped court dates and sped down highways (which was probably why her car didn’t make the prettiest noises anymore).
It followed her through her self-retribution stage when she’d spend her nights at the bar trying to trap bail skippers and spend her days chasing down bail skippers and use up her free time searching for bail skippers. Emma craved the ache in her legs when she ran in her heals, the twinge in her heart that came after a skip threw her hurt in her face, the bone-deep exhaustion that weighed her down after a difficult chase, the loneliness she forced herself to feel as she sipped a beer in a corner by herself.
It followed her when she worked herself so hard for so long that the very thought of looking up the name of her next skip made her collapse into a fit of Is this it? and How much longer will I have to fight until I find what I’ve always been searching for?.
Lastly, it followed her in her search to find the peace she’d been longing for, the healing and quiet her heart had always needed. It followed her to Storybrooke, to the library, to his books, to Granny’s Diner.
All the while, it reminded her of the risk she would be taking if she ever tried to find those things in another person.
“Sometimes I wonder if falling in love with him was even worth it. Wouldn’t things be better if I hadn’t met him?” Emma finished her story with questions she didn’t expect Killian to answer. But he did.
“I felt that same way after I lost Milah.” His hand reached over to rub at the tattoo on his right forearm. The pain in his voice told her that this was that other terrible thing. Emma sat up straighter and placed her hand over his like she did that night on his porch.
“I met her in a pub four years ago while I was travelling. She had this excited sense of adventure just waiting to escape. She took me all over that town showing me around. We went sailing a few times too but she didn’t really enjoy it as much as I did. Milah wanted to do the moving, not sit on something else while it did it for her.” Killian’s teeth just barely snuck through his lips when he smiled and looked toward the darkening sky.
“I didn’t find out she was married until a few weeks after the affair started. Said she resented her husband for his cowardice at work, that he wouldn’t take any chances even if it meant making a better life for them. She’d long before fallen out of love with him. And she told me she waited to tell me until she was ready to leave him, had divorce papers drawn up and everything. So we planned to leave town together the following week but when the day came, her husband called and said he’d finally asked for a promotion at work and had gotten it and would be home early to celebrate.
“So Milah called me and frantically explained while she finished packing her bag. She was in a rush because she didn’t want to be there when he saw the papers. The skies were dumping rain that day and I could hear the thunder rumbling over the receiver when she got into her car. I made her hang up so she wouldn’t be even more distracted while she drove to meet me. Told her to be careful, that I loved her. But she never made it. Her car slipped off the road.
“All I could think about afterward was how much I wished I’d given her Liam’s ring. I couldn’t even go to the funeral because I wouldn’t be able to explain who I was to her loved ones. And I blamed myself for her death. If she hadn’t have met me, she wouldn’t have been leaving her husband and she wouldn’t have been driving that night. I left town a few days later. I’d been there for five months, the longest I’d ever stayed anywhere during the time. I poured myself even more into my writing, started calling David twice a week to talk.
“Even though I feel incredibly guilty for it, I can’t bring myself to regret loving her. My love for her got her through tough times with her husband and made her feel free again. And her love for me healed parts of me and made me feel happy again. We couldn’t have known how it would end. We both needed to feel that love at that time in our lives so I don’t regret it. I only regret how we went about our plans to leave.
“So, while I hate that Neal abandoned you like that and I’m sure you do too, wouldn’t you say you needed that love at that time?” At that, Emma nodded while hating that he’d had to lose another person he’d loved. “You learned from it and it eventually brought you here to this beautiful night under a clear sky out on a calm sea,” Killian told her while lying back on the blanket to look up at said sky. “Regret how it ended but never regret feeling love, being loved. Love is far too rare.”
Hearing him speak like that reminded her why she’d felt so comforted in his books. It reminded her that he understood the different forms pain presented itself in and the difficult things it made us feel and do.
She slowly laid down next to him to remind him that she understood too.
Killian seemed to want to lighten the mood a touch so he pointed out a few constellations in the sky as the stars began popping through the darkness. Hazy moonlight shone over his face when Emma turned her head to watch him.
“Thank you for tonight,” she whispered to him after he’d finished speaking. She wasn’t prepared for him to turn his face to look at her and the close proximity of their noses made her a little flustered. “Even though the talk was a little heavy for a first date.” She cringed before the final word could even leave her lips.
“A date? This is a date?” Killian asked, but his shit-eating grin said a date was exactly what he had hoped this was. Her cheeks tinged slightly red and she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Come now, Swan, it’s alright. I consider that first night at your place with the spiked hot chocolate our first date anyways.” That, and the poke he gave her waist made her let out a giggle, surprising them both. She had to have been a child the last time she’d let out a sound like that.
Killian shifted so his whole body faced her and propped his head up in his hand with his elbow to the deck. When he looked down at her, his face became her clear sky, his eyes her stars, his mouth her moon. “I wish I could capture that sound in words.”
“Would you settle for capturing it with your lips?” Her giggle this time was shy, quieter, mostly caused by the fact that she couldn’t believe she’d said something like that. It was corny. It was something he’d say.
So naturally, he loved it.
“Aye, I think that could work quite well.”
Even with the invitation, he waited. Just smiled gently at Emma until she brought her hands up to cup his face. Killian’s stubble poked at her palms as she pulled his face down to her.
Their kiss wasn’t fiery like the last one, wasn’t fueled by the tension of a challenge. This one was gentle, a slow slide of lips that made her feel the little tingles at the base her chest that Charlie felt after he first kissed Layna.
His hand came up to wrap one of her curls around his finger and in return, all of her fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his head.
The hair there felt so soft that she brought her other hand up to push through the longer strands on the top of his head. And though Killian’s hands were calloused from years of sailing, the pad of his thumb felt incredibly soft too when he thumbed at her chin. His sleeves were soft as they brushed against the bare skin of her arms and the skin on tip of his nose was soft when it nudged the tip of hers.
Everything was just so soft. Calming. Peaceful.
And though the blanket and the ocean were both underneath her, she felt as if she was wrapped up and floating in warm waves.
Peaceful.
The sail back to the docks was peaceful too. And the walk to his house.
What happened when they got inside was also peaceful just in a more exciting way.
All it had taken was a single question and reply to make the shift.
The question was Emma’s, asked after she’d spotted the typewriter (because of course he had one) sitting on a desk in his living room.
“Have you been writing anything new?”
Killian’s answer came from close behind her, swift and sincere.
“I was waiting to see how this story played out first.”
In a moment, Emma was turned around, her lips crashing a little wildly against Killian’s, her legs pushing them toward the couch. When they reached it, she nudged him down onto it and pulled the hem of her dress a few inches up her thighs to straddle his legs.
His lips, a smidge chapped from their earlier kiss, were parted in a surprised ‘o’ when she dove back in. These kisses were wet and open-mouthed, definitely fiery but in a more passionate way.
It felt right to sit in Killian’s lap and press down gently against him with her hips, right to grab at the collar of his shirt to keep him right where she wanted him, right to slip her tongue just slightly past his lips.
But it also felt like Emma could forget about protecting her heart and worrying over her urge to run.
So she moved her fingers down to pop open the buttons of his shirt.
Killian seemed almost reluctant as he pulled back from her, their separating lips making a noise that had her squirming a little and pushing her fingers to work faster.
He pressed his hand over both of hers to halt their movement. When she looked up at him with an eyebrow raised in question, he asked, “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” It made her stop and think and, wow, she usually never had to be reminded of that. “Not that I don’t want to do this with you. I just want you to be ready. And to do it for the right reasons. It’s been an emotional night.”
Yeah, Emma had changed enough that she wouldn’t panic over the kisses they’d been sharing, but she couldn’t be positive she wouldn’t freak out and skip town immediately if she slept with him tonight.
Dropping her hands, she maneuvered herself to get up. “You’re probably right.”
Hands shot out to grab at her waist right before she went to flip her leg off of him. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want you to stay. It’s late and I don’t want to say goodbye. So… stay?”
Turned out that Emma’s clothes did come off that night, but only so she could change into a pair of his baggy sweats and a t-shirt that had been worn soft.
Killian offered her his bed, saying he’d take Liam’s old room. But she knew he really didn’t want to do that and would wind up with a sore back from sleeping on his couch downstairs. His bed was king-sized and she didn’t want to say goodbye either, even to move to another room.
“No. We’ll share. I know you’re a gentleman. I promise to be one too.” Emma wiggled her fingers at him and crawled into her side of the bed, noticing how much more comfortable it was than her own.
With a final look at her, as if to say, “You’re positive?”, he crawled in next to her. Knowing she wouldn’t fall asleep with the excited nerves that came with lying next to him, she had an idea.
“Will you read to me again?” Killian propped placed his hands behind his head and settled in with a little wiggle.
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll tell you a story. Once upon a time…”
Waking usually came with a little nausea and a lot of drowsiness for Emma, but it had been a while since she’d woken with a familiar urge stuck in her gut. She hadn’t missed it but before she’d even opened her eyes, she could feel it.
However, it was merely tickling at her and it wasn’t intense enough to vacate the warm comfort she was surrounded by. It wasn’t until she blearily blinked her eyes open that she realized why it was there.
The first thing she saw was Killian facing her from across his bed. A smile pulled at her lips at the slackness of his jaw and the soft snores emanating from his throat, but never reached its full size due to the tickle giving her a little twinge. It was telling her to get her ass up and run.
Grabbing her phone to check the time, she remembered that she hadn’t set her alarm and had to go if she didn’t want to be late.
Quickly and quietly, she slipped into his bathroom and changed, left his clothes folded back up on his bed, made sure she shut the front door quietly enough not to wake him (partly because she didn’t know how to handle speaking to him right now but mostly because she wasn’t positive how long it had been since he’d slept so deeply like that).
Only then did she run. Just to her apartment though. Not out of town. Not for the hills.
She could push through it, she knew it.
Especially since she hadn’t even really worried about having forgotten her necklace on Killian’s bedside table (she started taking it off at nights after she woke up one morning with an ugly indent in her cheek). In fact, Emma almost felt like she didn’t need it anymore, didn’t plan to ask Killian to bring it to her.
She could handle this change.
As the day progressed, Emma became less sure.
When she walked into the station right on time and without a coffee in her hand (which should have been a sign that her day would be stressful), David was standing at her desk with an excited smile on his face, reminding her that his and Mary Margaret’s baby announcement party was tonight and that she took the day off from the library to help prepare.
“Excited for your party tonight, David? You usually can’t manage more than a scowl until after lunch.” He was much like her in this way.
“No. Well, yes, I’m excited but that’s not why I’m smiling.” For a second, Emma worried that he’d found out about her night with Killian, though she wasn’t sure if he would be happy about it or not. But she would face this head on. She walked towards him until she stood right in front of him.
David reached for his back pocket, “Emma, I’d like to offer you a deputy position,” and held a badge out between them.
She knew this was coming sometime, had been training for the job and yet she was still shocked that it had happened. Her mouth was hanging open and her hand hovered over top of his.
The thing was, she wanted this promotion, had found a passion for the work she did the past few weeks, didn’t fear the permanency like she used to.
However, at his offer, her tickle progressed into a dull ache.
“So, do you want to be a deputy?” There was so much hope in his eyes at his question that she pushed through the feeling again.
Laying her hand over the badge in his told him she accepted, but she needed the words too. “Absolutely.”
Mary Margaret was so ecstatic that she cried so Emma accepted her hugs and excited praise while they decorated town hall with gold streamers, set out tables and chairs, and made bright fruit salad and punch. It was a lot of work since they’d of course invited practically everyone in town.
When the guests arrived and Emma discovered she could greet them all by name, it freaked her out and caused that urge to start bubbling.
Almost everyone was present by the time Killian showed up, but almost like magic, the crowd seemed to part and he was heading right toward her. Seeing him calmed her, centered her, helped her breathe around the feeling that seemed to be filling her up.
The expression on his face screamed relieved, like maybe he’d been afraid she ran. Emma figured he probably called or texted but her phone had been dead since 9:30 that morning.
Killian held her hands and it felt pretty perfect. “You look radiant, darling,” he complimented her, his eyes never leaving her face even though she’d thought he’d meant the dress. It was long sleeved and black with spring-colored flowers printed all over it, probably the prettiest thing she owned, purchased specifically for this party. Her hair was even in an intricate braid that she’d woven to put her mind on something else.
“Yeah, this dress is pretty great. You can thank Mary Margaret for forcing me to buy it.”
“Aye, the dress is great. Though I meant you.” Killian’s compliment brought her eyes up from where she’d been staring at the hem near her knees. “I would have enjoyed waking up to the sight of you this morning.”
“Sorry. Duty called.”
“Indeed. It does that,” he said with a chuckle.
And because she hadn’t shared her news last time and he really deserved to know, “Speaking of duty, David promo-,” Emma was cut off by Leroy’s booming voice telling everyone to “shut their pieholes”. He was a brusque man, that one.
Dragging Killian by the hand toward their table up front, Emma listened as the Nolans announced their special news from the small stage.
“We have an announcement everyone!” Mary Margaret exclaimed.
“Are we getting another bench put in at the park?” A man’s voice. Probably one of Leroy’s gang.
It wouldn’t be surprising, Emma thought as she and Killian sat, if the woman had thrown a party for that purpose.
Mary Margaret ignored the comment. “David and I are having a baby!” The crowd went up in cheers and while Emma smiled happily, apparently she’d forgotten to feign surprise because Killian leaned over and nudged her arm.
“Did you already know, Swan?” She wondered why he’d even been looking at her anyways.
“Of course not,” she lied, her right shoulder shrugging in the tell he’d discovered the week prior.
“That’s not very fair. I’ll be having a long talk with David after this.” Emma patted his arm and laughed.
“There’s one other thing. Regarding the baby,” David quieted the crowd and looked to his wife. Were there two babies? That would be a surprise to both her and Killian at least.
Mary Margaret took over again, her eyes searching the crowd until they landed on her and the man sitting beside her. “Emma, Killian, will you come up here please?”
Confusion pushing at her brows, Emma looked toward Killian but he seemed to be in the same boat. They stood together and made the trek to the stage. Her face heated. She’d always hated being in front of crowds, especially when she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be doing. Killian’s hand at her lower back helped a bit but drew David’s attention, his eyes snapping back and forth between them.
They stood in front of their best friends as Mary Margaret announced, “We’d love for you to be the baby’s godparents!”
Woah, woah, woah. The deputy job was permanent in a sense but this was permanent. How could they spring this on her in front of everyone? Maybe they’d thought she was ready to be a part of their family for real and if she was honest, she couldn’t imagine not saying yes but now she felt like she had to say yes.
Of course the offer made her happy, but that feeling in her belly was bubbling now, distracting enough to keep her in her shocked stance until she saw Killian move to pull David into a back-slapping hug. Emma pulled Mary Margaret into a far gentler one (she was carrying her god baby after all).
“Of course.”
Killian still didn’t find out her news from her, much to her dismay.
After David told everyone to go eat, the couple spoke to them at the front of the room for a bit.
“Two promotions in one day, Emma! You’re moving on up!” Mary Margaret’s voice was loud enough to draw Killian’s attention.
“Don’t be mad. I tried to tell you about the deputy promotion when you first came in, but-,” Emma’s statement cut off in a grunt as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“I’m not mad, Emma. This is bloody fantastic news!” She wondered if he knew the implications of her acceptance while she pressed her face to the side of his neck. Everything always seemed to quiet when they touched.
The embrace didn’t last as long as she would’ve preferred though because she quickly pulled out of it after catching the way David was watching the back of Killian’s head, arms crossed, lips pursed, brow furrowed.
“Is there something I should know about?” Yeah, he was definitely ready to be a dad.
“Not sure what you mean, Davey.”
“I thought we settled the ‘Davey’ thing years ago… mate.”
“Perhaps not.”
Before Emma could blink, David had Killian in a playful headlock with his free fist mussing up his styled hair.
So maybe he still had a little work to do.
“So I can break the rules as long as I’m with the deputy?” Killian whispered near her ear while he watched her insert her key into the door of the library.
Emma had dragged him (was it considered dragging if he was very willing?) there after two hours of nervous fidgeting and attempts at choking down small bites of food. She needed to be close to him, to touch him, to be comforted by him and she figured doing so between those familiar shelves wouldn’t hurt.
She turned the key and pushed the door open, trusting him to close it and follow her to that dark corner in the back. “As long as you don’t mind the risk of getting handcuffed,” she called over her shoulder. His footsteps quickened behind her so she sped up a little to reach the spot before he got there.
She’d just pressed her back to the wall when she saw him round the shelf. “Darling, don’t tease!”
Arms outstretched and mouth upturned, she welcomed him eagerly. This entanglement was hungry, him looking to celebrate good news, her chasing that peaceful feeling moments like this had come to offer her.
The entire library was dark rather than solely this spot, since she hadn’t turned on the lights in hopes that they wouldn’t be caught, but the streetlights shining through the cracks in the blinds were enough.
All she could think was yes, this is exactly what I needed as he pressed his hips into hers and licked into her mouth, he makes things better as he grabbed at the thigh she’d hiked around his waist.
And still she craved more of it, finally had a peace she could wrap herself around and greedily pulled at it. Her hands found his shoulders, her blunt nails digging into the leather there and she used the leverage to hop up and wind her legs around his waist. Killian growled when their hips made contact.
He was to her giggle as she was to his growl.
Now as they kissed, she ground down against the hardness forming below his belt and relished in the feeling of it rubbing against the most sensitive part of her. She wanted his hands on her breasts but she also liked where they pressed against her ass to prop her up.
The breaths Emma took through her nostrils were deep and smelled like a candle made personally to her liking with hints of fruity breath, Killian, and book pages.
At a particularly aggressive push of her hips, he pulled back to breathe an, “Emma,” against her lips and all she could think was I love him. I love him, I love him…
“I lo-,” slipped from her freed mouth. She’d caught herself before she could finish, but still not nearly soon enough. Oh God, she loved him. She couldn’t handle another big change like that today. It was too much. “I left my necklace at your house this morning. Can we get it before you walk me back to my apartment?”
So affected by her ministrations, he could only nod in return and tilt his head back in for more. She pulled back enough to press her head flat against the wall so he’d look at her.
When he did, he was quick to understand. “Oh, now? Sure, love.” Killian placed her gently back on her feet but she was nowhere near steady.
In any sense of the word.
“Bad things come in threes,” one of her foster mothers had said after Emma and two of her foster siblings had come home bloody from a fight with the neighbor kids.
That saying was running on a loop through her mind as she walked beside Killian, her shoulders draped in the jacket she hadn’t even realized he’d placed over her.
Three huge changes that she was terrified of were handed to her today so that had to mean they were bad, right?
She could have handled the first two but that last one made it three and completed the saying.
The urge that presented itself to her that morning was now sizzling hot and wild right beneath her skin. She couldn’t ignore it or push through it anymore. Her only choice was to give in to it.
Her plan was to get her necklace, place it permanently around her neck, pack her meager belongings and go. No goodbyes. They would hurt too much this time.
Killian had to be able to sense that she was in a rush, always having to quicken his gait to catch up to her. She regretted that he was probably wondering if she wanted to go somewhere more private to continue what they’d started, wished that was what she was doing.
Rooting her feet to the floor of the foyer only a few steps inside the door after they finally entered, she waited as ran up the stairs to retrieve her necklace. When he returned a few moments later and handed it over, she turned and grabbed the door handle before he caught at her arm.
“Hey, you can stay for a while. We can watch a movie or something.”
“I’m actually kind of tired.” She didn’t stop her lying shrug in time, but he didn’t comment on it so maybe he hadn’t noticed.
Stepping around Emma, he pulled the door open for her. “Okay, let’s go then.”
If she didn’t actually look at him, she could sell her lies, control her tells. “Don’t worry about it. You’re already home. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Alright. I was thinking about bringing lunch to the station tomorrow. Would you like anything special?” The thought of him feeling comfortable enough to spend time with her at the station now distracted her as she told her next lie.
The shrug that accompanied this one was too big to miss. “That sounds nice, but I’ll probably be pretty busy with my new deputy duties so maybe another time.”
A disappointed sigh rang through the quiet house and his hands moved to his hips. “You’re going to go home and pack your bags, aren’t you?”
She knew he read her better than anyone but that was kind of impressive. When her surprised gaze pushed back up to his face, it was met by the top of his head as he stared at his shoes.
“I’m sorry, Killian. I’m not someone who can stay in one place for too long. It’s time for me to go.” Emma couldn’t stop lying and shrugging, shrugging and lying.
“Would you please stop lying to me? Don’t I deserve the truth?” She didn’t answer, only turned her back on him to leave. “I think the real problem is that you’ve realized that this past year has only been what you thought peace was supposed to feel like. But now you’ve found true peace, and happiness, and a home but in other people. And people haven’t always been too kind to you, have they?”
Her deepest truth spoken in his voice brought tears to her eyes. He knew all of the words of the book that lived inside of her without her ever having to read it to him.
“No. And how do I know this time will be any different?” she asked as she turned back around, desperately demanding an answer, begging as he begged her to stay.
“Mary Margaret and David love you enough to entrust you with their child. I never thought my heart would be capable of love again until I met you. They won’t leave you. I won’t leave you. I wouldn’t be able to bear it. I wouldn’t be able to bear you leaving me either. I found my peace in you too.”
A single tear dripped down her cheek as she finally told the truth. “I don’t know how to be brave enough to stay.”
Killian placed his hands on both sides of her face, swiped the tear’s wet track away with his thumb. “Do you remember when Charlie was about to enter into his final battle? He held on to the things he knew and he stood side by side with Layna and he clung to the belief in his prophesy. You hold on to the things that make you happy and you stand side by side with me or Mary Margaret or David and you believe that you deserve to feel loved.”
More of her tears slipped out onto his fingers. “But that’s fictional.” They both knew that story was so much more than that, but her fear was grasping at straws.
“It’s real. It can be your reality.” Emma nodded, believing him now, trusting in the fight he was putting up to keep her from making a terrible mistake. “Don’t regret our ending. Don’t make us have one.”
She kicked the door firmly shut behind her and tasted salt on her lips as she pressed up on her toes to kiss him.
They laid in Killian’s bed for the second night in a row. Though there were several differences from that first night.
This time they were unclothed and tangled deliciously around each other, the sweat on their skin making them slightly sticky as it dried.
She had just experienced the truest sense of peace she’d ever felt.
It came after they’d removed their clothes and read the reactions of each other’s bodies with each touch. It washed right over her as he’d slid inside her, was amplified as sparks shot behind her closed eyelids and down her spine.
All the while, Killian’s spoken words and the ones he’d written that started this whole thing floated around in her mind.
He’d broken the peace she thought she had and rebuilt a stronger one that she’d never be able to live without.
It made her wonder what else his words could do.
“Will you write me another book now?”
“As you wish.”
Emma finally received a new novel written by her favorite author on a Friday three years later.
She found Broken Peaces on the dining room table of the Jones household when she got home from the station, setting her badge and keys on the table and promptly snatching it up.
It was as advanced a copy could get but she was impatient because Killian refused to let her have a single peek at any draft he’d written (“Sorry. No spoilers, Swan.”)
Not willing to wait any longer, she practically skipped over to the living room couch to sit down and read until Killian came home from the docks for their weekly dinner with Mary Margaret, David, and Leo.
She reached the dedication page and tears sprang to her eyes.
“For my wife, Emma. Our story is my favorite.”
After running her fingers across the words and rereading them an embarrassing amount of times, she flipped the page to Chapter 1 and made herself more comfortable by kicking her feet up onto the coffee table and propping the book up on her slightly swollen belly.
They’d soon be adding another character to their story.
#reader!emma#librarian!emma#author!killian#cs ff#captain swan fanfiction#captain swan ff#captain swan au#cs au#cs oneshot#captain swan#emma swan#killian jones#samantha writes
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Cliffhanger - “Lee Jaehwan,” the guy replies and reaches out a hand for Sanghyuk to shake. “Guide to lost souls trying to find themselves The Book. Always a pleasure to set up a rendezvous between an enthralling story and a reader starving to read something good.” (Hyuk/Ken, g, 6798 w)
a/n: written for this prompt. anon asked me to not make it “too depressing” and i tried my best, so much so that more than 3/4 into the story i forgot i was supposed to include the song’s interpretation haha well anyways, it’s crooked as it is because i remembered a little late that i should be concentrating on the song, but hopefully it’s not that bad!
lots of hand holding ahead;;
recommended song: dodie - would you be so kind
Something about libraries has always drawn Sanghyuk to them, but actually visiting them has been a totally different question.
He doesn’t know if it’s because the books there aren’t his own possessions or because those places are way too quiet. Nevertheless, he’s standing in the doorway of one now, feeling a little lost.
The public library isn’t very big on the inside which is quite understandable considering how small the whole town is, and the librarian doesn’t even spare him a look as he passes the counter, murmuring a ‘hello’. Sanghyuk strides to the shelves, reading the signs above that say HISTORY, ROMANCE, BIOGRAPHY and SCIENCE, desperately looking for the fiction section. He soon finds it, stopping in front of the shelf, feeling helpless.
There are just too many books. And he has no idea which one to read.
In retrospect, it would’ve been clever to search for something good on the internet and arrive to the library with a specific idea of what to choose, but he didn’t do that, so he just stands in front of the labels and cracked spines of unknown books, anxiety rising in the pit of his stomach, thinking about how embarrassing it would be to just leave.
“Looking for something?”
Sanghyuk snaps out of his daze, glancing to his right where the sound came from. A few feet away from him stands a boy probably around his age, wearing a pair of stonewashed jeans that end above his ankles, the rest of his skin covered by old black boots, and a well-worn sweater that most probably used to be emerald, though it’s now mostly just an ugly toad colour. The guy pushes his round, metal framed spectacles further up on the bridge of his prominent nose, plush lips stretching into thin lines as he smiles at Sanghyuk, cocking his head to the side questioningly.
“Uh,” Sanghyuk says cleverly, “not really. I just… want to read something, you know? But I don’t have an actual idea about what to read.”
“Hm,” the boy murmurs and presses a finger on his lips, looking up at the shelves. “Do you like manga? You look like you would like manga.”
“Well, I do like that kind of stuff,” Sanghyuk replies, “but I’m more of an anime person when it comes to that.”
“I see,” the guy says, still staring at the books. “A classic?”
“Maybe,” Sanghyuk shrugs. “I haven’t really read anything in a long time, so there might be some that I haven’t read yet.”
“Okay,” the boy leans a little forward, inspecting the books. “A horror or whodunit?”
“Not really a fan of those,” Sanghyuk says.
“Something sports-related?”
“I’m not very sporty either,” Sanghyuk mumbles and feels the tips of his ears growing warm. He wishes he could just give it up and go home to play Overwatch with his friends, but the guy next to him seems very determined to find him something good, and the way he even stands on his tippy toes to look at the higher shelves is kind of admirable.
“A thriller?” The boy sinks back on his heels and glances at Sanghyuk. “More toned down than a horror book, so you might like it.” He must see something on Sanghyuk's face, because he smiles brightly before turning back to the shelves. “Guess not.”
“Look, I’m—”
“Read this,” the guy says and shoves a heavy book into Sanghyuk's hand.
The cover of the book is a bluish grey, with some sort of cross symbol printed on it, and on the bottom it reads ‘Cryptonomicon’ in the most awful mud-brown (possibly golden back in the days) font Sanghyuk has ever seen. He turns the thick paperback over, skimming through the synopsis, catching some words like ‘codebreakers’ and ‘conspiracies’ and something about World War II, and frowns when he reads the last line by the Wired magazine: A hell of a read.
“It is,” the stranger says and he reaches out, pointing at the line with fingers too bony for someone so soft-looking. “A hell of a read. Really, I’ve read it like, three times at least. You should thank me later.”
“Okay,” Sanghyuk says tentatively and then blinks up at the beaming boy. He’s about half a head shorter than Sanghyuk, but his joyful expression makes it feel like he fills up the space between them and between the shelves. “I don’t know whom I should thank though.”
“Lee Jaehwan,” the guy replies and reaches out a hand for Sanghyuk to shake. “Guide to lost souls trying to find themselves The Book. Always a pleasure to set up a rendezvous between an enthralling story and a reader starving to read something good.”
“Han Sanghyuk. Are you a matchmaker?” Sanghyuk laughs and Jaehwan grins even wider, showing almost two full rows of teeth.
“I’m so much better than a matchmaker,” Jaehwan replies and lets go of Sanghyuk's hand. “I don’t only make true love happen, but I also give people lifelong friends.”
“Right,” Sanghyuk smirks. “Would you… like to get a cup of coffee with me? Down in the coffee shop? I need some suggestions as to what to read after I’m done with this one,” he holds up Cryptonomicon.
“Oh, sorry,” Jaehwan says and actually looks sad, his shoulders drooping. “I still have some soul guiding to do and I have only a few pages left of The Sum of All Fears—which is great and I highly recommend you read it. But if you stop by next time, we can go to the coffee shop.”
His eyes are sparkling as he says that, his smile bunching up his cheeks and smoothing out the sharp edges of his face. He’s cute, like a little elf that’s trying to bring happiness into the world, though Sanghyuk can’t be sure of his intentions outside of the library. His pointy ears resemble that of an elf’s, anyway.
“Yeah, okay,” Sanghyuk nods. “Then, good luck finding the perfect matches?”
“Thanks,” Jaehwan smiles. “And you have fun with that.”
“I hope I will.”
Jaehwan starts walking backwards, towards the end of the aisle, waving his hand at Sanghyuk and skipping a little as he turns around before disappearing behind the shelves.
Sanghyuk lets out a soft laugh, a little exhalation, as he walks towards the counter, putting the book down in front of the librarian, a young girl who’s tapping away on her phone. She takes the book before Sanghyuk could say anything, and then reaches out without looking up from her screen.
“Card,” she orders.
“Oh,” Sanghyuk says, “I haven’t joined yet, but I’d like to.”
The girl sighs and takes her hand back, clicking here and there on her computer. Sanghyuk looks towards the aisles while she does so, sees Jaehwan crouch down by a little boy at the children’s section, wearing a wide smile.
“You need to fill this out.”
Sanghyuk turns back, realizing he’s grinning without a proper reason, and takes the form and a pen from the librarian, scribbling down his data. When he’s done, he hands it back to her, and the girl taps the keyboard some more.
“Has he been working here for long?” Sanghyuk asks, leaning in closer. “Lee Jaehwan.”
“He doesn’t work here,” the girl says, and then puts the book back on the counter. “Lending time inside the cover, your card’s going to get mailed to you.”
“Thank you,” Sanghyuk replies, a little confused.
He looks back up into the general direction of where Jaehwan was a moment before, but he has disappeared and the little boy is holding up a book to his mother and jumping happily, a smile spreading on his small face. From behind them, Jaehwan stares at Sanghyuk and holds his thumbs up.
Sanghyuk leaves the library in a strangely elevated mood.
*
If there has been one thing that got Sanghyuk to read the 1168 pages long novel in a week, it was the prospect of seeing Jaehwan and possibly getting a cup of coffee with him.
It does happen like that; Sanghyuk hands Cryptonomicon back to the bored librarian who registers the event under Sanghyuk's name, but doesn’t even meet his eyes. Sanghyuk pulls a face he knows the girl won’t see anyway, and marches into the main aisle, his head snapping left and snapping right, looking for a mop of dark hair and a pair of round glasses too huge on a face too sharp-edged for someone so… small.
He finds Jaehwan in the reading room alone, with a cushioned chair pulled close to a window and Jaehwan sitting on it with his socked legs drawn under himself. He’s immersed in a book resting in his lap, head propped up on his hand. His brow is furrowed in concentration, maybe displeasure, and the sight makes Sanghyuk smile a little as he pads in, stopping right next to Jaehwan.
“Something bad happening?” he asks quietly, and Jaehwan looks up at him, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Sanghyuk nods towards the book.
“Things I would never agree with,” Jaehwan says, and sticks a piece of paper (previously a shopping list, now serving as a makeshift bookmark) in the book, closing it afterwards. Sanghyuk reads the title of it: 1984 by George Orwell.
“You might be taking it too seriously,” Sanghyuk says.
“Have you read it?”
“Yeah, and it’s amazing,” Sanghyuk replies. “And Cryptonomicon was really good, too.”
“Oh?” Jaehwan perks up, a smile making its way on his face. “Have you finished it?”
“Yeah,” Sanghyuk nods.
Jaehwan scrambles to stand up, pulling on his sneakers without untying his shoelaces.
"Would you like to talk about it by a cup of coffee?" he asks, placing the book on a shelf where it doesn’t belong. When Sanghyuk looks at him questioningly, he just shrugs, saying, "It'll be easier to find when I come back."
He leads the way out of the reading room, and picks up his bag from the counter, the librarian not sparing the two of them a look.
The coffee shop downstairs is small and looks pretty unpopular, if the lack of guests on a sunny Saturday afternoon is any indication, but it's charming in its own way, at least to Sanghyuk.
"Hey, Hongbin-ah," Jaehwan greets the guy behind the counter.
The brown haired boy is far too handsome for a coffee shop worker; the kind that makes headlines on blogs, declaring him to be the “hottest barista” and becoming Instagram famous just because of the sheer fact that he’s attractive and isn’t on a runway but behind a counter. He is wiping a mug clean, his eyebrows running up on his forehead when he looks up at Jaehwan.
"How come you've climbed out of your cave upstairs?" he asks without saying hello.
"Couldn't you be a little kinder?" Jaehwan asks, pouting sadly. "I have a guest today. A newbie in the field of library-going. I still have a lot of work to do on him."
Sanghyuk snorts and Jaehwan looks at him, amused. The guy called Hongbin narrows his eyes, but then smiles, wide and blinding, dimples appearing in his cheeks, though it’s nothing short of sarcastic.
"What can I do for you, dear guests?"
"I'd like the usual," Jaehwan replies happily, and then both of them stare at Sanghyuk who feels a little uncomfortable, staring up at the menu above Hongbin's head.
"Uh," he says, "I'd like the same."
"I doubt that," Hongbin grumbles.
"Excellent choice!" Jaehwan exclaims, and then motions towards Sanghyuk, "Come."
They sit down in a booth by the window, Jaehwan placing his hands on top of the table, lacing his fingers, and Sanghyuk lets himself marvel at them a little, at their angularity and all of Jaehwan's bones looking so sharp and still so graceful, a wide silvery band glinting on his right middle finger.
"So," he says, resurfacing from his daze, "can I have a question?"
"Go ahead," Jaehwan says cheerfully, his kind smile appearing on his face.
"The librarian girl told me you don't work there. What do you exactly do at the library all the time, then?"
"He lives there," comes the reply from Hongbin who puts their drinks on the table. "He's pretty much a library freak."
"A compliment," Jaehwan nods and Hongbin grimaces at him, but then leaves the table. "I do certainly not live there, though I've tried to move in before, but unfortunately, the town leaders are quite against people looking for shelter in a library."
"You're kidding me," Sanghyuk mumbles, eyebrows raised.
"Am not," Jaehwan shakes his head and pulls his drink closer to himself. "They're pretty strict."
"I didn't mean that," Sanghyuk laughs at the absurdity of it all. "I meant you couldn't be serious about wanting to move into the library."
"Oh, I was serious about that," Jaehwan replies, taking a sip of his beverage through the straw. "I figured if I was going to spend most of my time there, I might as well bring my stuff with me. But to answer your question, I love books, if that hasn't been clear so far."
"It has," Sanghyuk snorts and then examines his own drink. It's a glass of... something, with dark syrup on the bottom and some coffee mixing with what seems to be vanilla ice cream, milk froth and whipped cream on top, sprinkles of cookie crumbs and caramel decoration sitting upon all of this, a spoon and a straw stuck into the whole thing. "What... is this?"
"It's called a 'bookworm'," Jaehwan answers, pulling out his spoon carefully not to drop whipped cream on the table. "Hongbin gave the name of it and it went through with the management well! It's something I invented."
Sanghyuk thinks about that for a second, and while he doesn't yet know Jaehwan all that well, he finds he isn't really surprised this is all Jaehwan's doing.
"Is this a latte with whipped cream and cookie crumbs and caramel and vanilla ice cream and... what's that on the bottom? Chocolate syrup?"
"Not exactly," Jaehwan says, happily turning over a spoonful of whipped cream in his mouth. "It's chocolate chip cookie flavoured syrup; the coffee shop's own thing."
"Looks like liquid diabetes," Sanghyuk murmurs.
"Hm, that might have been a better name for it," Jaehwan giggles and Sanghyuk grins at him.
'Bookworm' tastes ten times sweeter than it looks, but Sanghyuk drinks it all, engaging in a conversation about Cryptonomicon and other books with Jaehwan, finding out that Jaehwan has no one favourite book because he's simply too much of a nerd to choose. Sanghyuk listens to him most of the time, only sneaking in a comment about books he's read, but otherwise paying full attention to Jaehwan as he digs into his "coffee" with his spoon to reach the scoop of ice cream, talking animatedly about all the stories he loves. He seems very into the whole topic, sounding more passionate about it than Sanghyuk has ever felt about anything, bright smiles breaking out on his full lips, and adjusting his glasses every now and then, and Sanghyuk wishes Hongbin wouldn't tell them they're closing.
"Oh, look at the time," Jaehwan says, flicking his left wrist to look at his battered watch. "It's already past nine. We've been here for more than four hours."
"Astute observation," Hongbin calls from behind the counter. "I'm tired, so please, just pay and leave."
"Sad thing good conversations always end too soon," Jaehwan sighs and stands up, gathering his stuff.
"We could continue it another time," Sanghyuk offers a little quietly, afraid of being rejected like the first time.
"Yeah, just drop by the library anytime you want and we might be able to come downstairs," Jaehwan says.
"If you're not too engrossed in a book?"
"Exactly," Jaehwan grins and pulls out his wallet.
"My treat," Sanghyuk says touching the back of Jaehwan's hand to stop him. His skin is warm but dry and Sanghyuk, for some reason, files that away with all the other things he has learnt about Jaehwan today. He unsuccessfully tries to fight off a blush as he pulls his hand back. "Thanks for the talk and, well, the diabetes."
Jaehwan laughs at that, loud and boisterous, his eyes forming crescent moons and creasing at the corners, and damn it, he looks so cute the way he pulls his shoulders up like he's trying to hide his smile into the collar of his black turtleneck.
Sanghyuk pays for their coffees more than he would consider reasonable for non-alcoholic drinks, and they exit the coffee shop together, stopping in front of the door and watching Hongbin turn the sign around to 'closed'.
"Next time you come to the library, I'll let you choose something based on your gut feeling," Jaehwan says, huddling into his coat in the cold February night.
"I thought you were supposed to match me up with my better half of a book?" Sanghyuk asks.
"That's only the first step," Jaehwan replies and his eyes are sparkling as he says that. "I can see the potential in you to be my partner on this project and that means you need to learn how to choose good stories just by following your instincts."
"I feel honoured?" Sanghyuk laughs. "I guess?"
"You better do," Jaehwan says and hits Sanghyuk's shoulder lightly. "Good night, Sanghyuk."
"Good night, Jaehwan."
Jaehwan smiles at him one last time and then turns around, walking off towards a bus stop.
Sanghyuk watches him go and presses a hand on his stomach, trying to figure out if the movement inside is from butterflies or the drink, the possibility of it being the two mixing together hanging above his head.
*
Sanghyuk finds himself standing helplessly in front of the bookshelves yet again, staring up at unfamiliar book spines.
“You’re too tense,” Jaehwan says and his grip tightens on Sanghyuk's shoulders as he stands behind him on his tiptoes, peeking around to see the books. “You need to relax and just let the book choose you.”
“Is this like that thing in Harry Potter?” Sanghyuk asks a little sourly. “The wand chooses the wizard?”
Jaehwan chuckles behind him and seems to lose his balance a little, plastering up on Sanghyuk's back for a moment and Sanghyuk is glad Jaehwan can’t see him blush.
“Something like that,” Jaehwan replies finally. “Now concentrate on the books.”
Sanghyuk sees familiar titles like The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and Lord of the Flies, but decides to leave them there, even if half of them are books he has only heard of but never read. Jaehwan said he should rely on his gut feeling, so that's what he does, reaching out for a book on the top shelf, jostling Jaehwan on his back enough for Jaehwan's hands to fall off his shoulders and catch his waist. Sanghyuk flinches, almost yanking a dozen books down, and Jaehwan lets go of him like he touched burning wood.
"Sorry," Sanghyuk mumbles, flustered, and when he turns around, he sees Jaehwan standing in front of him with a pretty blush spreading across the bridge of his nose, tinting even the tips of his elf ears pink, his hands hovering aimlessly in the air. He's still half a head shorter than Sanghyuk and his general build is still so much smaller, and Sanghyuk knows these are not supposed to be things to fall for in a person, but shit, he feels himself mentally trip with every glance takes at Jaehwan.
"You— you chose that one?" Jaehwan asks in a strangely high-pitched voice.
Ah, yes. His voice, too. That's also another Jaehwan-thing worth falling for.
Sanghyuk takes a deep breath and blinks down at the book in his hand.
It's a thin paperback, not as worn as Cryptonomicon was, its condition suggesting that it hasn't been read a great many times. He turns the book around and traces down the patterns on the cover: it looks like a printed circuit board; the neon turquoise lines almost glowing on the dark blue background. It's entitled Straight Line, and Sanghyuk turns it around in his hand again, opening it at the first page, frowning at it.
"There's no author," he says, looking up at Jaehwan who seems quite jittery, pulling the sleeves of his sweater (a mint green knitted piece this time) over his hands, avoiding Sanghyuk's gaze.
"Really?" Jaehwan asks, walking to the chair he pulled by the window.
"Have you read this one before?" Sanghyuk asks, following him to sit down on the carpet with his back against the wall right next to Jaehwan. Sanghyuk looks up at the boy, but Jaehwan won't look back down at him.
"I think I have," he replies, opening Bram Stoker's Dracula at the page he had previously left off. "I can't really remember."
"Is it that bad?" Sanghyuk grimaces at the paperback in his hand. "You said you remember most of the books you've read."
"I don't know if it's bad," Jaehwan shrugs and he finally glances down at Sanghyuk, the nervousness still visible on his face, hiding behind his watery smile. "I guess you'll have to see it for yourself."
"Yeah," Sanghyuk mutters. "But why does it have no author?"
"Some authors prefer to remain hidden from the public, you know," Jaehwan says, and there it is, a truly happy smile, somewhat even condescending as he flicks Sanghyuk's forehead. "Noob."
"Nerd," Sanghyuk fights back and catches Jaehwan's hand, his fingers wrapping around Jaehwan's own. He holds it one second too long and they're already two blushing idiots again; a scene right out of a sappy romance novel.
Straight Line is quite intriguing as it is, and the more Sanghyuk reads of it with his head resting against Jaehwan's thigh, the more he doubts Jaehwan could forget this story if he ever read it.
It's something Jaehwan would like, Sanghyuk thinks, with the storyline centring around a young genius learning how to build androids just to save the love of his life through building her again after she dies, installing their shared memories into her mechanical brain, and Sanghyuk finds himself sucked into the story.
There are fingers in his hair, blunt nails scratching lightly, and Sanghyuk gets dragged back into reality by Jaehwan's hand on top of his head.
"Ugh?" he groans, and as he blinks up at Jaehwan, he feels his eyelids moving heavily like he would fall asleep anytime. He didn’t even notice he’s been getting tired.
"The library's closing," Jaehwan says, smiling down at him, his hand falling away from Sanghyuk's hair.
"Oh," Sanghyuk takes Jaehwan's left hand gently, pulling it into his sight to look at his watch. "Wow. Okay, yeah. We should leave, huh?"
"Unless you want to hide away behind the shelves," Jaehwan grins and he must see something on Sanghyuk's face, because he starts laughing a beat later, covering his mouth. "I was just joking, we can't actually do that, Hyerin knows we're here."
"Pity," Sanghyuk says, but gets on his feet, placing a clean handkerchief between the pages. Jaehwan takes the book from him and hides it between other paperbacks, along with Dracula.
"You seemed quite preoccupied with the story," Jaehwan says once they're standing on the street, in front of the coffee shop, Jaehwan waving at Hongbin who's standing behind the counter inside. He turns back to Sanghyuk. "Is it that exciting?”
"It's pretty good," Sanghyuk nods. "I'll come tomorrow, too. I really want to read it some more."
"Well, I'll be here," Jaehwan chuckles.
"Don't you have anywhere else to be?" Sanghyuk asks, smiling.
"Not really," Jaehwan shakes his head. "Besides, I'm glad I'm not alone anymore."
Sanghyuk almost chokes on his own saliva but manages to hold back, his second reaction being reaching out for Jaehwan's scarf to adjust it around his neck, pulling it further up so it bunches just under Jaehwan's mouth.
"Thanks for showing me... everything," Sanghyuk says awkwardly.
Jaehwan nestles into his newly arranged scarf—judging by the way his eyes begin to crinkle, hiding a smile behind the clothing item.
"I'll see you tomorrow, then," Jaehwan says.
"Yeah."
It's fleeting and nearly unnoticeable, but Sanghyuk's heart almost blows up inside his chest as Jaehwan wraps his ice cold hand around Sanghyuk's warm one, squeezing his fingers lightly, only to let go a moment later, averting his eyes and turning around to leave for the bus stop.
Sanghyuk catches something from the corner of his eye, and when he turns towards the coffee shop window, he sees Hongbin resting his chin in his palms, fluttering his eyelashes at him, a dimpled smile sitting on his lips. Sanghyuk decides it's better for him to go.
*
“What do you do, exactly?” Sanghyuk asks, looking up from the last ten pages of Straight Line at Jaehwan's face as he sits by his leg, head against Jaehwan's thigh. There’s a hand on his shoulder, Jaehwan resting it there, and Sanghyuk keeps fiddling with it, his own fingertips running up and down Jaehwan's bones and joints absently.
“What do you mean?” Jaehwan asks back, pushing his glasses further up on the slope of his nose.
“I mean, outside of the library,” Sanghyuk clarifies. “When it’s closed and you go home. And, like, what did you do before you started hanging out here?”
“I went to the university,” Jaehwan says, moving his index finger a little, crossing it with Sanghyuk's. “And I graduated summa cum laude, thanks for asking.”
“Let me guess,” Sanghyuk grins, “you were a Literature major, weren’t you?”
“Biology,” Jaehwan replies and flicks Sanghyuk's ear.
“Oh, that’s surprising.”
“Not as much as you majoring in History.”
“Yeah, that was surprising to me, too,” Sanghyuk mumbles, because really, it was. He applied for it because of all the pictures of excavation sites on the university pamphlet, but he never would have thought he’d get accepted. Still, here he is, skipping classes to read books with Jaehwan. “But back to the point.” Sanghyuk turns around, not letting go of Jaehwan's hand, their index fingers still hooked together, hanging in the air. “If you’re not a student anymore and you apparently don’t work—how do you get money for, like, food and clothes and all that?”
“Who said I don’t work?” Jaehwan raises his eyebrows.
“Wait, you do?”
“It’s kind of twisted that I need to remind you of this,” Jaehwan giggles, “but life doesn’t stop at 6 o’clock when the library closes.”
“So you work at night?” Sanghyuk inquires.
“You’re one curious kid, aren’t you?”
“Why else would I be here?”
“That’s a good point,” Jaehwan says and stands up. “All right, I guess it’s time I let you in on my darkest secrets.”
“Do I really want to know, though?” Sanghyuk murmurs, but then Jaehwan is holding his hand, yanking him up on his feet.
“You’re way too deep in, at this point.”
Damn right he is.
They end up walking towards the bus stop Jaehwan goes home from every day, holding each other’s hand and mostly staying quiet; Jaehwan keeps his eyes on the pavement and Sanghyuk tries to fight off astigmatism, because he can’t stop staring at their laced fingers from the corner of his eye.
“Where are we going?” Sanghyuk asks once on the bus, Jaehwan placing their hands into his lap and playing with Sanghyuk's while half of his face is buried in his scarf, the tip of his ear red again. For a crazy moment, Sanghyuk wants to lean in and kiss it, but stops himself before he would make a fool out of himself.
“My place,” Jaehwan says, still not looking Sanghyuk in the eye.
That piece of information is heavy enough to shut Sanghyuk up.
Jaehwan's flat is in the better part of town; newly built blocks with lots of green around them, the main road running just perpendicular to the street where they get off the bus, shiny, tall office buildings towering above them on the other side of the road. They walk into one of the modern-looking buildings, Sanghyuk trying to close his mouth as he awes at the decorations in the main hall but feeling he’s unable to, and they enter a lift, Jaehwan pushing the button that brings them up to the fourth floor.
Jaehwan's flat isn’t big, but it’s fairly well-equipped with dark floorboards and cream coloured furniture in the living room.
“Is this where you live?” Sanghyuk asks, standing awkwardly in the doorway.
“I didn’t bring you to someone else’s place if that’s what you mean,” Jaehwan laughs, and tugs at the zipper of Sanghyuk's coat, urging him to take it off.
“Looks fancy,” Sanghyuk says, kicking off his shoes and following Jaehwan further inside, through the living room where there is a huge bookshelf running along the wall opposite the small couch. “Are you a drug dealer or something?”
“A hitman,” Jaehwan whispers and chuckles at Sanghyuk's unimpressed look.
“You have so many books,” Sanghyuk notes as he stops in front of the shelf, eyes roving over the neatly aligned volumes. “I mean, that’s kind of what I expected, but— is this Straight Line?”
He hears a sigh coming from Jaehwan, and Sanghyuk takes the book off the shelf, seeing the same circuit board-like cover. When he looks back up, he notices the lack of authors on the books that sit close to where Straight Line did just moments before, and feels that something isn’t quite right.
“You said you didn’t remember if you read it,” Sanghyuk mumbles, brows knit. “And there are so many anonymously published books here; do you collect them?”
Jaehwan holds his hand again and pulls Sanghyuk with him towards an open door, stopping in the middle of a room that looks much like a bomb has exploded in it.
There’s a huge desk under the window, a small lamp standing by a PC, printed and hand-written texts on paper scattered around the floor, pens that have lost their caps sitting on top of them. There are also quite a few empty energy drink cans and chocolate wrappings, and it takes Sanghyuk some time to place all of those things together.
“Is this… your study?” he peers at Jaehwan and almost recoils from Jaehwan's gaze, because it’s intense and begging, like he really wants Sanghyuk not to judge him for everything he’s seeing. “And you… write?”
Jaehwan nods, stepping to the desk to open a drawer, rummaging through it until he pulls out a thick batch of printed pages, the paper yellowed already and the edges wrinkled. He sticks it under Sanghyuk's nose.
“Straight Line,” Sanghyuk reads the title on top, “by… Lee Jaehwan? You wrote this?!”
“No need to beat me up with it,” Jaehwan grins at the way Sanghyuk holds up the published book and puts the manuscript on the desk. “But yes, I did. And all the others that have no authors, outside on the shelf.”
“Wow,” Sanghyuk says, blinking down at the book in his hand and sitting down in the chair in front of the desk lest his legs give in under him. “So this is why… are you a best-selling author or something?”
“Not really,” Jaehwan laughs and steps closer, sitting on top of his desk, on a bunch of papers. His legs dangle from there. “But I’ve made some money out of them.”
“How many have you written?”
“Twelve so far. They’re really not that great, but they’re enough to provide me with some income.”
“And why don’t you have your name on them?” Sanghyuk puts Straight Line on the desk. “I mean, I’ve only been reading this one and it’s crazy good, so—”
“I don’t exactly want to become famous,” Jaehwan smiles at Sanghyuk and gently caresses his hair. “I figured if I kept myself hidden, they won’t bring attention to me, though, I must say, they don’t even sell that well and my publisher says it’s because of the anonymity.”
“You’re… wow.” Sanghyuk's eyes turn to his current favourite book once again. “So, tell me, is she going to die in the end?”
“She’s an android, Sanghyuk,” Jaehwan laughs, “androids don’t die.”
“She’s going to get shut down by the government, doesn’t she?” Sanghyuk whines. “The straight line is the line on the monitor where he checks if her parts are still working, isn’t it? It goes straight like an ECG.”
“Do you really want to spoil it for yourself?” Jaehwan pulls a face at him.
“Ah,” Sanghyuk leans back in the chair, trying to process all this information. “I can’t believe you wrote this; it’s really good.”
“You must really underestimate me.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Sanghyuk frowns. “I’m just… I don’t know.”
Silence falls between them and Sanghyuk looks around, catching some words on the pages spread out on the desk, wanting to read everything in one sitting, with Jaehwan's hand in his hair just the way it is now. He feels… so proud and excited, and his heart is about to burst the way it’s pounding in his chest, and when he glances back up at Jaehwan's prettily shining eyes, he swallows thickly.
“Jaehwan?”
“Hm?”
“This might sound weird, I don’t know. I just think you’re really wonderful,” he jabbers before he could really think about what he’s about to say, “so, I think I like you? Like, like like. In more than a… friendly way, you know? So, I’m— I’ve been thinking, would you… go on a date with me?”
There’s a blush on Jaehwan's cheeks again and Sanghyuk wants to kiss it, on both sides, because Jaehwan looks like a delicate little flower blooming whenever the pink appears on his skin, but then Jaehwan's hand disappears from between his locks, leaving Sanghyuk feel empty. There’s a sad smile on Jaehwan's lips when he says, “I have some work to do, the deadline is in two weeks.”
He gets off the desk and starts digging through his papers, with his back at Sanghyuk.
It’s like ice water being poured over Sanghyuk's head, his entire body going cold and he feels like crying; there’s not enough air in his lungs.
“I guess I’ll see you in the library, then,” he mumbles, standing up.
Jaehwan nods, leaning over the pages and Sanghyuk might be imagining it, but it looks like his hands are trembling.
Jaehwan sees him out of the flat, eyes glued to the floor, Sanghyuk examining his doormat once outside.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
Jaehwan opens his mouth, but eventually just gives Sanghyuk a mournful glance before closing the door.
*
“Uh-oh,” Hongbin says, way too cheerfully, “you just got dumped.”
“Can you give me a glass of that… sweet stuff?” Sanghyuk asks and then promptly collapses on top of the counter, burying his face into his arms.
“Drowning your sorrows in sugar won’t do much good,” Hongbin replies from somewhere above him.
The coffee machine starts whirring and silverware clinks against glass, but Sanghyuk doesn’t look up, lets grief take over him as he sits on the barstool, regretting every single word he uttered half an hour before at Jaehwan's place.
“If that makes you feel any better,” Hongbin says and Sanghyuk lifts his head, sipping at his drink sadly, “you’re not the first one.”
“Did he dump you, too?” Sanghyuk inquires gloomily.
“Not me,” Hongbin shakes his head, leaning on the counter. “A friend of mine, Wonshik. That poor boy was head over heels in love with Jaehwan—he became an utter fool for him. He’s not the literary type like you are, but he did see Jaehwan here a few times. I once saw him trying to kiss Jaehwan… well, suffice it to say Wonshik left in tears.”
“How is that supposed to make me feel any better?” Sanghyuk grumbles.
“I’m not sure,” Hongbin muses, shrugging. “But you’re the first one I’ve seen Jaehwan be so unreserved with. I kind of believed you could break the ice. What happened exactly?”
Sanghyuk tells Hongbin about everything, drinking big gulps of his ‘bookworm’ in the meantime, still feeling wounded from Jaehwan's rejection. He doesn’t think the confession was inappropriate; it might have been, if Jaehwan hadn’t shown him all those signs—then again, he might have got too ahead of himself.
“Okay, listen,” Hongbin says, “one of the things I managed to learn about Jaehwan since he’s been coming here is that you don’t outright tell him your thoughts. It must do with his analytical mind-set or whatever, but he likes to figure out things on his own, just like he does whenever he reads something. He loves cliffhangers and you need to let him realize what’s going on instead of giving him the answer. That said, you blew this one, buddy.”
“I blew it?” Sanghyuk asks pitifully.
“Well, a little,” Hongbin twists his mouth. “Unless he really is smitten with you, and I do think he might be.”
“What am I supposed to do now, then?”
Hongbin sighs.
“If only I knew, man. I got a headache from being so eloquent.”
Hongbin pats his shoulder and walks away to take an order.
*
Sanghyuk finds Jaehwan in the reading room just by the window where he always sits, and he plops down next to him on the floor, leaning back against his thigh. He feels Jaehwan freeze above him, but doesn’t budge, taking a thick paperback out of his bag.
“What are you… reading?” Jaehwan asks carefully.
Sanghyuk peeks up at him.
“Oh, this?” he asks, showing Jaehwan the cover. “It’s called The Grimoire, written by a certain nameless author.”
“That’s… that’s mine,” Jaehwan replies meekly. “I wrote that.”
“Did you?” Sanghyuk says casually like he doesn’t have a list of all the titles he managed to remember from Jaehwan's bookshelf in the pocket of his jeans. “Then hopefully it’ll be at least as good as Straight Line was.”
“You haven’t even finished that one…”
“I did, last night.”
“What?” Jaehwan asks, confused. “How?”
“There are these shops you can buy books at, you know,” Sanghyuk answers. “Bookshops, they are called, if I’m not mistaken. I bought it at one of those.”
“You bought my book?”
“Five of your books, to be exact. I’m kind of broke right now, but I guess that’ll only make you richer.”
“Sanghyuk…”
“Shh, I’m trying to read.”
There’s a half-oppressive silence as Sanghyuk starts to read from where he left off last night, having to re-read every other sentence as he tries to will his heart to calm down. Jaehwan is tense above him, his hand cold as he cups Sanghyuk's cheek.
“Hey,” he says, and Sanghyuk can hear the smile in his voice, “did you really like it that much?”
There it is: the ache in his sternum as his heart starts pounding, those stupid butterflies squirming around in his stomach. He reaches up to place his palm on Jaehwan's hand, attempting to heat it up, though the skin of his face must be doing a much better job at it.
“I’m not the one who underestimates you.” Sanghyuk closes the book and places it on the carpet, turning around and taking Jaehwan's hand off his face, holding it tight in his own as he looks up at Jaehwan. “I meant that it was amazing and I literally can’t wait to re-read it after I’m done with this one, and I’m only twenty pages in, but I already know I’ll want to re-read this one as well. And I’m sorry about what I said back at your place, it was just really a lot to process and I really do think you’re wonderful, because—”
Jaehwan's free hand is on Sanghyuk's neck in an instant and he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to Sanghyuk's mouth. The kiss is soft and slow and sweet and so warm compared to how cold Jaehwan's fingers are, and Sanghyuk finds himself standing up from the floor to give Jaehwan better access, eventually having to bend down himself. He hears the book Jaehwan was reading fall to the ground with a thud, his nose nudging the lens of Jaehwan's glasses and it’s going to get dirty, but Jaehwan doesn’t seem to mind. They kiss like that until Sanghyuk needs to support himself by the backrest of Jaehwan's chair because his legs become wobbly, his hand that holds Jaehwan's shaking with the happiness that wants to burst out of even his fingertips.
When he pulls back, Jaehwan's eyes are shinier than they have ever been when he looked at Sanghyuk, patches of grease smeared over the lens of his glasses, that cute flush making his face bloom like a small wild flower.
“Let me have my cliffhanger,” Jaehwan says and a wide smile spreads over his lips.
Sanghyuk can’t help but kiss his smile again.
a/n #2: yeah, that’s the plot of the error mv in straight line because i’m horribly uncreative lol idek..
#vixx#ken#hyuk#hyuken#rating: g#req#i am a puddle from writing small jaehwan he's just so... so delicate#fluff#songfic#au
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5 Stages of Market Sophistication – Eugene Schwartz’s Breakthrough Advertising – Dan Lok
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Let’s talk a little bit about the five stages of Market sophistication, 5 stages of Market sophistication, the biggest challenge that most entrepreneurs have is they don’t understand the 5 stages, and depends on the product cycle they communicate exactly the same way regardless, one, and once you see the distinction you see that why the typical marketing message doesn’t work because, where did you come from it’s right here but it is, buy a copywriter at a time so I would say one of the greatest copywriters back then, he would have booked up breakthrough advertising, which I believe it’s probably, i would say one of my top three marketing books, that iPhone in my library, it’s autoprint but sometimes you can find on Amazon, for quite expensive I think I bought mine for like five hundred bucks on Amazon, you might be able to find it but it’s quite difficult at 1, What is on a classic car breakthrough advertising, here’s the key you must mocking your part of the service differently depending on what stage of its sophistication your Moc is currently in, when I’m talking about how sophisticated your Market is I’m talking about how how long, that type of product service been around how many competitors do you have on your, clients customers jaded have you seen a lot of this, mocking message that’s what I mean by how it is, now his wife so important, because she always wanted to be number one or number two in the marketplace, number one or number two in the marketplace, now does that mean that you want to have you have to be, the highest quality yes or no, yes or no, now does it help to have, the highest quality, yes, but he doesn’t me in this case I’m talking about perception more important cuz perception, Reality, perception is what, reality show only thing to be number one Marketplace you notice in any category in any industry, the top one is up to a real estate agent, the number one and number two is the agent makes most of the money yes, the number one number to mortgage broker makes most of the money, the top 10% make 90% of money, the 90% make 10% of money, so with what you do if your products have it doesn’t really matter but thing in terms of if you can become., the number one or number two, maybe you can create your own category so you could be number one or number two Let me give an example, real estate agent, instead of calling yourself I am the number one realtor in the whole freaking universe, okay well I’m the number one realtor in Vancouver that’s very walk, Brought us so instead of doing that maybe.
You can specialize, and so you know I’m the number one expert just in this neighborhood, yes, it always better to be first, all different, being first has a huge abandoned example, how many casinos are, cola taste blind taste, test that they say you know what Coca-Cola and Pepsi and then they blindfold you and then you actually taste it and, they saying a Pepsi is always pumping this message open 7 out of 10, colatina Coke taste better than Coca-Cola I’m using that before, it doesn’t matter, castle will never be Coca-Cola, because Coca-Cola death first, when you think of Coca-Cola you think of coke you don’t think of Pepsi, so instead of competing in that category that accompany a small little company you might have heard of call Red Bull, they create the first in the energy drink Market, Desta first-to-market advantage, and they Market the hell out of that and in fact you a listening to this, single Red Bull actually goes through the cycle, does five stages of Marcus visitation and you’ll see, the marketing they did in the beginning they did in the beginning was just like a Red Bull gives you, it’s an energy drink, and you notice that’s the first couple stages and while that’s not the focus anymore, because there’s so many more Wild, energy drink in the marketplace, now it’s Red Bull events they sponsor, sport extreme sports, it’s an identity, okay it’s a different type of mocking message from stage 1 2 3 they revolved immature and now rep, attitude, not so much about give you wings everybody knows that there’s so many choices out there, let me go to this way., so States wanted somebody say hey I’m here, i’m here, be very simple go Direct mortgage broker, I’m a real estate agent, i am a white monster I’m an accountant, what is stage 1 in Marketplace the marketplace hasn’t seen this type of product or service before you could just say that, there is no need to be lengthy, this is your very little competition, your Innovation is enough to capture the market, k stage 1, their recent one, i do this, so buy from me, i’ve been looking for something like that, simple and direct does halal example, so let’s pick the weight loss supplement, hamacas example many many years of full-page ad, in print publication is basically take this pill and you lose weight, send a message, take a pill, can you lose weight, stage one, pretty simple and direct yes, nursing contract, the market evolve, something your marketing needs to evolve to, so we can see is a computer app, that’s a computer iPad at the computer lab, Is there a symbol, what the hell I don’t know what the hell I’m the first physical beautiful under twenty bucks, this is it, fox, very simple very direct, because back then this is like, who, computer for twenty bucks that’s already a big selling feature, does that make sense, but that’s many years ago, that’s many years ago, kh2 is, what is it, what is it, so if it if the direct claim is still working you saying you know what his is going to what we do, need I’ll beat your competition with features because now States you use stage 2 you’re getting living wall carpet, now you got to communicate with the marketplace, why is your stuff better, why is your stop better, so this requires you to take those original claims and your promise and you wonder and large them what you want to do, And lost them exactly.
What is it, what is it, so they shoot what is it, so here’s an example again, take this pill and you lose weight in 7 days or less, yes, don’t let it all down, write down when you are taking notes it’s is not a note-taking contest, okay that’s your job, what is watching you right now, action steps, what does it mean for you, how can apply this, how can apply this, i would rather you write down just a few paragraphs and you go home and take action, and do very well and make a whole bunch of money then write its note-taking Nathan with a new person on Meetup anyway, reitzel, under the meet up after, not own f****** do that either., everything is what it means for you, holiday playlist, soma kostakos original claims and promises and enlarge them, Take this pill and you lose weight in 10 days or less, how many conceito from stage 1 just take this pill, i lose weight and this is, and lost the clean yes, here’s an example, from Apple, why every case you have an Apple after school not a little bit blurry but let me, one apple that won’t leave them hungry the Apple this is too it’s easy to set up easy to set up and, and it comes complete with almost everything you need to start computer in one box including if we eat, discourse of deposing 220k decay of internal memory, everybody yes, what is a internal memory powerful office computer right, just goes on and on and on and on about all these things right so backed into Stage 2, toothpaste 3 now again the market got even more sophisticated now you got to go into how, it do it, Nunchucks, he’s always been why would better the competition now is what’s that mean how does this thing work so, consumers are more skeptical beginning what, so now the market is Jada with all these exaggerated claims made by the growing group of companies, something pretty Monster saying, pretty much the same thing, so what you need to do you need to get a new mechanism and you what, what does it mean, what does it mean, get a new mechanism to make it old promise work what does that mean, yes, yes so now from just hey he’s what we do is why we have different but let me tell you one piece, piece of information that you might not know about what we do, i need high back to your clan, let me give an example, understand you need a new mechanism, loss of the emphasis shift from what the product does to how it works, Noches, as a realtor notches, i sell houses, everybody does, so what makes you different, what makes you stand out, so emphasis from notches, what you do but how does it work, how does it work, how does it work, some good example, take this pill that blocks the absorption of fat in your intestines can you lose weight in 7 days or less, i’m not backing up the claim with a mechanism not just his the benefit but let me tell you what, different Glocks, the absorption of fat, that’s what makes this different from, not at the first stage of marketing for a compensation claim I don’t even need it, but now this does a gizmo comparative now they need to up the game, stop the game, and you lose weight how many different yes, that’s a difference, yep, Yes.
Yes that’s my point, yeah. That’s my point that’s precisely my point, knox H1 is going to the marketplace, let me go to the five stages, introducing, the Macintosh, computers are getting more competitive, look at what what what Steve Jobs did, what makes it tick and tock, that’s the new mechanism, this freaking thing talks, wow, that’s it, the only need that one thing to do French himself from everybody else, and it put it right into what, the rest, bam, it’s a computer that talks man, that’s yes, i’ll get it as well, so now the stage for 9 even gets more competitive, now you need to crush your competition because there’s so many choices, so many people out there doing similar things were they doing, so now I got to promise more benefits than any other competitor because so many other choices especially with, internet, people say now the internet, Thought is making it easier, for entrepreneurs to start their business how many agree with that by the way, dangerous making easier, but also what what problem comes with that, saturation, yats mass of competition, getting disability, charging barely anything yes, just get a customer yes and also the bearer of Entry, so it’s easier to start but I believe it’s actually now more difficult to succeed, it’s more to it takes that much more, skill, that and it takes more money to succeed, and that’s the way it is, and that’s the way I like it, because the strong Will Survive the weak will go away, so I like that competitive and vinyl, a new mechanism must be created and must be believable and significant, bio Market the key work there what is it, believable and what’s important for them by your Market eventually all these, Mario Market prospects, and if competitors are dropping out like flies, people don’t last, people don’t last, so I can let’s go back to the real estate industry I’m keep using it but let’s use that, and people join real estate most of them, don’t say more than 2 years, the dropping like flies, dropping like flies competition, promise more benefit, new mechanism must be created, example from Apple, so then PC Dishonored 2 created how many seen the Apple versus Mac, that’s not so much, hey you know what, pC guys in there we are the cool, with a coupon, audiomack, apple people right, last year there were more than, 114000 bars 4pcs Malcolm X, direct, i need space these guys suck, right and that’s at a time what they did, to compete with, microsoft PC, as you can see this interesting to see the history of Apple, how did the bald and why Steve Job why I’m such a big fan in, And what have done such a such a marketing genius, i don’t think Steve Jobs a computer guy, space five now you want to be iconic, you don’t want to be just one you want to be D1, in the marketplace, sobe iconic the marketplace know so much about industry they will not buy into whatever you have to claim or how, hotsale anymore, they just so skeptical now, no, i don’t believe you, i don’t believe you I don’t believe you, this is what you sell on now how your brand service certain types of people and encourage people to buy into the Explorer, now you’re going into, so how many of you use a Mac how many users are PCS, so you can see it’s almost half half, so you will see it, both, products, surface acronym Marketplace yes, Saumag what do they do who bought a serving.
40 serving, artists designers creative Rebels, what cool people so what about PC who are they serving, ethan gamer, corporate yes, businesses, right, microsoft Office right, so you can see it’s a very two distinct Market both, i’m just saying you got to be clear, who you going after, so now it’s exclusivity who do you want, to be, your customer, who do you actually serve, see how we can see the shift from feature, do identity, yes, this is identity not this feature is identity, this is for who, so who is your product for, told you remember Wednesday talking to do state the iPhone the first iPhone, is an iPod, is a phone, is the internet, pill with presentation, remember that, he was like, it’s a phone is an iPod, i feel like wow, you can have all that on one device, Yeah, that’s iconic, that’s iconic, not Mac computer not faster RAM memory something totally different, not just an MP3 player not just a phone, not just browser all in one, in this little device people freak and the rest is, history, the recipe iconic, so he’s around example, again weight loss, it’s a very interesting hairline, super powerful diet pills make comeback, the flying off the shelf but they’re not for everyone, who is it for, is it for me, let me take a look, why is it shows flying off the shelf, washington so well, so I guess that’s an example of that stage 5 iconic, i think it’s between I would say four and five maybe four point five, that makes sense an example of that, if I could take 3 minutes how long this guy the five stages of Sisyphus, station on the table, 3 minutes 10 times your finances 10 times your business, Marketing 10 times your life hit the Subscribe button now.
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Sensor Sweep: John Carter Miniatures, The Metal Monster, Carcosacon, Call of the Wild Art, Robot Man
RPG (Modiphius): The John Carter Swords of Mars miniatures line is made up of 32mm scale high quality multi-part resin miniatures which come complete with resin scenic bases. The Swords of Mars campaign book includes a set of rules to play out battles involving squads and heroes, fighting across moving airships, desolate ruins or the beautiful palaces of Barsoom.
Writing (One Last Sketch): A long while back, I wrote a short essay called “Writing the city” that I never published, yet the misgivings that went into that essay keep stirring my brain. The main question is this:
In literary criticism of fantasy, why are long descriptions of the natural world and farmland or villages often labeled as boring, but when China Miéville fills page upon page with adjective-laden descriptions of architecture, this passes without comment, or even gets praise?
Art (DMR Books): Fifty-five years ago today, Wayne Francis Woodard, better known as “Hannes Bok,” died in poverty. He was friends with, and had his work admired by, the likes of Ray Bradbury, A. Merritt, August Derleth, Farnsworth Wright and others.
I must confess that I’ve always been ambivalent about Bok’s art. While I find some of his work truly excellent, I consider much of it average or even poor.
Fiction (DMR Books): It’s fascinating how the paths we take in life shape who we’ll become and what we’ll leave behind, when–on that fateful day–we’re blasted by the emerald lightnings of The Emperor’s Guard at the Pit of the Metal Monster.
For me, the dregs of life will be a room full of books. For A. Merritt, luckily for us, it was his wonderful novels, few tho’ they may be, and the short stories and poetry he crafted during a relatively short lifetime.
But, whereas the ashes of our mortal clay will be scattered before the feet of the Metal Things
Fiction (Gardner F. Fox): This is book #011 on the list of 160 books that Gardner Francis Fox wrote from 1953 to 1986. I will not be working on
Blank bookcover with clipping path
books in the order as Mr. Fox wrote them. I am doing the book cover designs based on when the transcribers who are assisting me, finish one. As they complete a book, it will be the newest release, so it will get a new book cover design. I also have to go back and replace the photo-bashed covers I made when I first started The Gardner Francis Fox Libraryin 2017.
Conventions (William King): So that was Carcosacon and it was a lot of fun. A bunch of us drove up from Prague to Czocha Castle for a weekend of games, panels and live action roleplaying all dedicated to the Cthulhu mythos. We got there on Friday morning, checked in and were gaming by one o’ clock that afternoon in a library that looked like something from Dennis Wheatley complete with a secret doorway hidden in a bookcase that swung out to reveal a spiral staircase up to yet another gaming room. I thought there never was a better setting for a Call of Cthulhu session but I was wrong, and I’ll get to that later.
RPG (Sorcerers Skull): Gygaxian Esoteric Planes: Places that often bear the names and some of the characteristics of various historical conceptual realms but are more defined in their characteristics. They are inhabited by supernatural beings that tend to behave like mundane beings, the only difference being “power.” Geography tends to be more important than in conceptual realms; planes can be mapped to a degree, and travel along associated terrain may be necessary.
Reviews (Don Herron): Our resident expert in everything Arkham returns to review a new (if repurposed) book on the fabled press. John D. Haefele certainly burst fully-formed on the scene with his A Look Behind the Derleth Mythos, but he’s done a ton of stuff on the subject, most recently a run of articles appearing in Crypt of Cthulhu. See his Amazon page for a thorough list of books, chapbooks, monographs, web and print surveys. He knows the turf.
Cinema (Superversive SF): Can the story take a place on a bus rather than on a space ship without being fundamentally different?
Outland, an obscure movie starring Sean Connery at the low point of his career, cannot be set on a bus, but it most definitely did not need to be placed in space. It is, no pun intended, fully grounded in the traditional western genre in the theme, plot and pacing. There are even shotguns. Lots of shotguns. In a pressurized environment. All that’s missing is the tumbleweeds. We do get treated to the sight of some gyrating balls of… something, but the less said of those the better.
Gaming (Rampant Games): In case you haven’t figured it out, I am a Virtual Reality enthusiast. I’ve been looking forward to the coming of consumer-level Virtual Reality since the early 90s. I expected it a lot sooner than it got here, to be honest, but I’m glad it’s here now. I love that I get to work with it as part of my day job. Anyway, I have been willing to sink a bit of cash into it this hobby… to the extent that I pre-ordered a Pimax 5K+. Offering about the highest resolution out there and 170+ degrees of field-of-view, it seemed like a game-changer for PC-based VR.
Cinema (Men of the West): First, the good: As you would expect from any sort of Peter Jackson flick, it has gorgeous F/X. The visuals and modeling for the various vehicles and aircraft are marvelous. The colorizing to help set the tone, the costuming, etc., are all spot on. The acting was decent. The set design was pretty cool. The basic premise for the story was decent if absurd (mobile cities on treads?), with an interesting twist on the post-apocalypse genre. They had a fun dig at the near illiteracy of today’s people in the “screen age” (showing iPhones, etc), saying “they didn’t write much down.”
Author Interview (Superversive SF): What does superversive mean to you?
Superversive is the building of things never seen before to heights unreached. It builds where others have torn down, and gathers together all good things to be made into something greater and more wonderful than they were before. Where before one might find a blasted heath, one finds a garden growing by the Grace of God.
Review (Fantasy Literature): As I mentioned in my review of Gray Lensman, Book 4 of E.E. “Doc” Smith’s famed six-part LENSMAN series, that installment, although it followed its predecessor, Galactic Patrol, by mere seconds storywise, was actually released over 1½ years later; 20 months later, to be exact. Book 5 of the series, Second Stage Lensman, would follow the same scheme. Although the events therein transpire just moments after the culmination of Book 4, readers would in actuality have to wait a solid 22 months to find out where author Smith would take them next.
Art (Northwest Adventures): Jack London’s The Call of the Wild was serialized in The Saturday Evening Post from June 20 to July 18, 1903, only five years after the Stampede of 1898. It was an instant classic and the quintessential novel of the Klondike. The five-parter was accompanied by illustration from two artists, Charles Livingston Bull (1874-1932) and Philip R. Goodwin (1881-1935). Bull was hitting his stride, illustrating books for Charles G. D. Roberts as well as magazine covers but Goodwin was only 22 and just starting out on his career that would include illustrating Teddy Roosevelt’s book on hunting. The two artists together is a nice blend of Bull’s stylized poster art (which remind of Kay Nielsen’s fairy tale art) and Goodwin’s realistic dog forms.
Art (One Last Sketch): No other imagined world has generated as much illustration as The Lord of the Rings. Considering the sheer amount of artistic material to draw from, however, even before the live action adaptations came out in 2001, we already had a consensus “look” for Middle Earth in John Howe and Alan Lee’s paintings. Why the collective consensus for what Middle Earth should look like coalesced around these two has a host of factors, one being how prolific they were, how often they appeared on book covers and ancillary material, and the last being their obvious skill.
Fiction (Pages Unbound): You may have some familiarity with The Silmarillion and seen these newer works being published that are part of it. But maybe you are not sure where they came from, or how they fit in to the larger work. Here is the scoop: you can pick up any one of the three separate works from The Silmarillion that have been released as standalone volumes and enjoy it on its own. They are The Children of Hurin, Beren and Luthien, and The Fall of Gondolin. Some say the reading order should be publication order, but you would not be wrong to read Beren and Luthien first.
Obituary (Washington Post): George Stade, a Columbia University literary scholar who became an early champion of “popular” fiction within the academy and worked as a critic, editor and novelist, most notably with the grisly satire “Confessions of a Lady-Killer,” died Feb. 26 at a hospital in Silver Spring, Md. He was 85.
Tolkien (Alas Not Me): The Mouth of Sauron’s encounter with the Captains of the West in The Lord of the Rings has been reminding me of the Green Knight’s visit to King Arthur’s court in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.
The initial set-up is quite different, naturally. The Green Knight comes in uninvited without any introduction or explanation — the reader is thus in the same boat as members of Arthur’s court — whereas Tolkien gives us some backstory on the Lieutenant of the Tower of Barad-dûr when he comes out in response to the heralds’ challenge. The Green Knight arrives alone on a color-coordinated steed that seems an ordinary animal except for its hue, but the poet hints the knight himself might possibly be supernatural (“Half etayn in erde I hope þat he were”). Intriguingly, the similarly color-coordinated fellow who approaches Aragorn & Co. is almost exactly the inverse, i.e., a living man on a possibly supernatural mountm
Sensor Sweep: John Carter Miniatures, The Metal Monster, Carcosacon, Call of the Wild Art, Robot Man published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames
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5 Free Tech Tools to Try in Your Social Studies Lessons
Richard Byrne on episode 225 of the 10-Minute Teacher Podcast
From the Cool Cat Teacher Blog by Vicki Davis
Follow @coolcatteacher on Twitter
Richard Byrne, author of Free Technology for Teachers, was a history teacher. It shows. In today’s show, he talks about top free tech tools to try in social studies lessons. This is one to share with your history department.
Richard Byrne the author of Free Technology for Teachers has some fantastic professional development courses including a course for history / social studies teachers. Go to http://ift.tt/2lomeMO and plan your professional development for 2018.
Listen Now
Listen to the show on iTunes or Stitcher
Stream by clicking here.
***
Enhanced Transcript
5 Free Tech Tools to Try in Your Social Studies Lessons
Link to show: http://ift.tt/2lZZSCC
Date: January 5, 2018
Vicki: Today we have with us one of my favorite people, Richard Byrne @rmbyrne.
We’re talking about five free tech tools to try in social studies lessons!
Now, I will include a link in the show notes and in the pre- and post-roll for this podcast episode to an amazing teaching history course that Richard does have, as well as some other courses that he has online that you may want to join in.
So Richard, where do we start?
Richard: Well, where do we start?
Richard’s Background as a History Teacher
A little bit about my background, I think, for folks who don’t know me. I taught high school social studies for the better part of ten years, and also worked in special education for a little bit.
So this course is right up my alley, or this topic is right up my alley, of Using Technology in Social Studies. That’s how I got into the educational technology field, really, was through social studies.
So I want to share a few of my favorite tools that I think… Some folks might be familiar with, and some people might be brand new to them.
So, if you don’t mind, I’ll just jump right into my first one. What do you think?
Vicki: Yep! Go for it!
Tool #1: Make Bookshelves in Google Books
Richard: So this is one that’s right under everyone’s nose when ever they go to Google, but whenever I share it, people are like, “Oh! I didn’t know you could do that.”
It’s Google Books.
Now, there’s two versions of Google Books. There’s Google Books where you can go and buy a book.
But I’m talking about the research tool for Google Books that gives you access to millions of titles that are in the public domain. For a social studies teacher, a history teacher, who needs to give his or her student a little more access to historical articles and books, that’s a great resource. You can clip sections out of the public domain books, using the tools that are built right in to Google Books. I used to make “bookshelves” in Google Books for all my students.
You know, in my course, I’d have a 120-130 kids at a time, and our school library had about 30 books on the Civil War. So, you know, I’m a little short there.
So I’d go to Google Books, I’d make a bookshelf and I’d say, “Hey kids, here ya go. Here’s a whole bunch of resources that are public domain. You can look at them, read them online, and print them out if you want to print them.
So that’s one. And, as I said, it’s right under your nose. Just go to http://ift.tt/1nvoZJI and you can start using it.
Vicki: Yeah! And it’s so much easier now to read those books.
Richard: Oh, yeah.
Vicki: They’re in a more readable format, than back when you were using it, right?
Richard: Yeah. When I first started using it, you had to read it on your computer in your web browser. Now there’s an eBook option. Of course there’s a PDF download option. There’s many ways to read it that doesn’t require you to sit at your laptop or sit at your Chromebook and stare at the screen the whole day.
So that’s a really neat tool.
Tool #2: TimelineJS
Another one that is kind of an update on I would say the standard play in the social studies teachers’ playbook — and that’s the timeline project, right?
I think, going back since the dawn of time, people have been making timelines, right? TimelineJS which a free tool that your students can use, and you can use to make a multimedia timeline. The reason that I really like it?
It can be a collaborative tool. The way you build a timeline is you actually make a spreadsheet, and you just input into the spreadsheet template in TimelineJS a link to a YouTube video.
If you want to include a location in Google Maps, you can link to that. If you want to include a picture, you can link to a picture that’s in your photo album or anything that’s in the public domain.
And it’s also not restricted to AD/BC format. You could use CE/BCE, you know. It’s a very very flexible tool.
So I really like Timeline JS. And if you want to see an example of it, CNN even uses it to make some of their multimedia timelines.
So it’s a really neat tool. Free tool. Check it out.
Vicki: Very cool.
Richard: That tool — that’s kind of a standard. The timeline is kind of a standard in our history and social studies teacher playbooks, right?
Something that’s new… and I’m really excited about. I think the entire internet is excited about right now… is Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality. Right?
You know, those technologies have been around for a really long time — a couple of decades they’ve been available — but now they’re much more accessible than ever before.
Tool #3: Metaverse
One of the services that I’m really excited about is a service called Metaverse.
READ my review of Metaverse
Vicki: Oh, I love it!
Richard: Yeah, Metaverse Studio… The way that I’ve been describing it for the last six months or so is, like, it’s build your own Pokemon Go, but with an academic slant. Right?
So when I think about using Metaverse Studio in the social studies classroom, I often think about, “Could you make a historical Pokemon Go for your local community?”
Have your students build their own. Augmented Reality game in which the players go out. They look for landmarks in town, or in your county. When they get to that landmark, they get a little digital prize. And they can watch a video about that place, or they can learn more information about that place.
So if you played Pokemon Go, or if you have a child in your life who played Pokemon Go, that’s the concept behind Metaverse Studio. You can build your own game like that, and build an educational slant to it.
One of the things that those folks are doing at Metaverse Studio is they’re really trying to support teachers as much as possible. They have a fantastic Facebook page for teachers, that I’d encourage you to check out if you have a chance.
Vicki: Awesome!
Richard: It sounds like you’ve been using it, too, Vicki!
Vicki: My students started programming in Augmented Reality in November. And I’ve done some work for Metaverse, and I’ll disclose that. But I love it. It’s just fantastic, and there’s all kinds of potential.
Plus, there’s even some pre-packaged stuff that other teachers have created that you can play. But you know, the whole goal, as you and I often talk about, is to get the kids creating. So, love that.
OK, what’s your next?
Richard: I’m going to go out of order from my notes, because of what you just said.
So, speaking of creating…
Vicki: (laughs)
Tool #4: Google Expeditions
Richard: … when it comes to Virtual Reality, you know it’s great to sit back and take kids on a Google Expedition, which was going to be one of the things I was going to talk about anyway. Google Expeditions is great. You can show kids places that can’t be displayed in a 2D format. You know, a flat map is great, but going and looking at it in Google Expeditions? That’s a whole nother experience. Right?
Tool #5: Google Cardboard Camera App
But… I want kids to create things. So I like the Google Cardboard Camera App, and the Streetview App, particularly the Streetview App is you have access to a 360 camera. (If you don’t, it’s still an awesome spp. But the Google Cardboard Camera app will let you and your students make your own 360 degree imagery that you can then view inside Virtual Reality in a VR Viewer or a Google Cardboard Viewer or any number of hundreds of virtual reality viewers that are on the market now.
See episode 127 Simple Virtual Reality with Google Streetview and Google Cardboard with Donnie Piercey for how he’s using these tools.
Donnie Piercey recommended the Ricoh Theta S camera
The Google Cardboard Camera app in particular, I really like because I can narrate what’s being displayed to my students. The Google Cardboard Camera app now makes it very easy to share your imagery publicly or privately. If you want to just share it with your students, and not share it with the whole world — or you want students to share it without making it public, Google Cardboard Camera app is a really neat way to do that.
And I’ll give you an example of how I’ve seen it used by a school. I visited a school in New Hampshire last summer, where the teacher had decided that for part of his geology unit, actually, he was going to have the kids go out with that app and record some 360 panoramas and talk about some geologic physical features. So there’s a little extension outside of your social studies class, with the Google Cardboard Camera app.
So those are the five great tools that I think any social studies teacher should try out in 2018 if you haven’t tried them yet.
I could go on for days, as you know, about tools that are free and available with cool features. But I think those five, if you’re a social studies teacher who is looking to infuse some new things this school year and the new calendar year, that’s a good place to start.
Vicki: So Richard, as we finish up, I will link to the course in the Shownotes. I am recommending your history course with technology. Tell us a little bit about the course.
Richard: So the course is “Teaching History with Technology,” and it’s really based on partly my own classroom, my own social studies lessons, and then the new things that have come out since I left the classroom on a full time basis.
We go in detail, actually through all five of the tools that I mentioned today but also many, many others. It’s not just a “how to use the tool.” I’m really trying to encourage people to think about how to use the tools, and so I include examples and suggestions every week in the course on, “Here’s how this could work in your classroom. Here’s a couple of activities that I’d recommend trying out in your classroom.”
And of course, if you have any questions about it, the way that the course is formatted you just hit, “Reply,” on any module that I send to you. I’m there to answer your questions, clarify information. I’m there to help you.
So for the month of December, we have 35 people that are taking the course and they’re at various stages of completion because you can start and finish it pretty much whenever you want. If you want to start it tomorrow, you can. If you want to start it and finish it six months from now, you can do that as well. It’s really self-paced.
Vicki: Cool. So teachers, there’s lots of great tools out there that we can use. These are things we couldn’t even do before, and that’s the greatest use of technology is to be able to do things that we never could do — not just a substitute. To actually have new things and reinvent how we teach.
I will link, again, to the Shownotes. But thank you, Richard, and I love all your stuff. Keep it coming!
Richard: Thanks, Vicki!
Transcribed by Kymberli Mulford
Bio as submitted
Richard Byrne is the President of Byrne Instructional Media, LLC. which manages multiple websites and training programs for teachers. Richard is a former high school social studies teacher best known for developing the award-winning blog Free Technology for Teachers. He has been invited to speak at events on six continents and would gladly speak in Antarctica too. He also provides online training and guidance for teachers and technology coaches.
Blog: http://ift.tt/12CxJ5K
Twitter:@rmbyrne
Disclosure of Material Connection: Some links in this show are affiliate links. This means that if you choose to purchase that a small commission will be paid to me at no additional cost to you. Regardless, I only recommend products or services I believe will be good for my readers and are from companies I can recommend. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” This company has no impact on the editorial content of the show.
The post 5 Free Tech Tools to Try in Your Social Studies Lessons appeared first on Cool Cat Teacher Blog by Vicki Davis @coolcatteacher helping educators be excellent every day. Meow!
5 Free Tech Tools to Try in Your Social Studies Lessons published first on http://ift.tt/2xx6Oyq
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5 Free Tech Tools to Try in Your Social Studies Lessons
Richard Byrne on episode 225 of the 10-Minute Teacher Podcast
From the Cool Cat Teacher Blog by Vicki Davis
Follow @coolcatteacher on Twitter
Richard Byrne, author of Free Technology for Teachers, was a history teacher. It shows. In today’s show, he talks about top free tech tools to try in social studies lessons. This is one to share with your history department.
Richard Byrne the author of Free Technology for Teachers has some fantastic professional development courses including a course for history / social studies teachers. Go to http://ift.tt/2lomeMO and plan your professional development for 2018.
Listen Now
Listen to the show on iTunes or Stitcher
Stream by clicking here.
***
Enhanced Transcript
5 Free Tech Tools to Try in Your Social Studies Lessons
Link to show: http://ift.tt/2lZZSCC
Date: January 5, 2018
Vicki: Today we have with us one of my favorite people, Richard Byrne @rmbyrne.
We’re talking about five free tech tools to try in social studies lessons!
Now, I will include a link in the show notes and in the pre- and post-roll for this podcast episode to an amazing teaching history course that Richard does have, as well as some other courses that he has online that you may want to join in.
So Richard, where do we start?
Richard: Well, where do we start?
Richard’s Background as a History Teacher
A little bit about my background, I think, for folks who don’t know me. I taught high school social studies for the better part of ten years, and also worked in special education for a little bit.
So this course is right up my alley, or this topic is right up my alley, of Using Technology in Social Studies. That’s how I got into the educational technology field, really, was through social studies.
So I want to share a few of my favorite tools that I think… Some folks might be familiar with, and some people might be brand new to them.
So, if you don’t mind, I’ll just jump right into my first one. What do you think?
Vicki: Yep! Go for it!
Tool #1: Make Bookshelves in Google Books
Richard: So this is one that’s right under everyone’s nose when ever they go to Google, but whenever I share it, people are like, “Oh! I didn’t know you could do that.”
It’s Google Books.
Now, there’s two versions of Google Books. There’s Google Books where you can go and buy a book.
But I’m talking about the research tool for Google Books that gives you access to millions of titles that are in the public domain. For a social studies teacher, a history teacher, who needs to give his or her student a little more access to historical articles and books, that’s a great resource. You can clip sections out of the public domain books, using the tools that are built right in to Google Books. I used to make “bookshelves” in Google Books for all my students.
You know, in my course, I’d have a 120-130 kids at a time, and our school library had about 30 books on the Civil War. So, you know, I’m a little short there.
So I’d go to Google Books, I’d make a bookshelf and I’d say, “Hey kids, here ya go. Here’s a whole bunch of resources that are public domain. You can look at them, read them online, and print them out if you want to print them.
So that’s one. And, as I said, it’s right under your nose. Just go to http://ift.tt/1nvoZJI and you can start using it.
Vicki: Yeah! And it’s so much easier now to read those books.
Richard: Oh, yeah.
Vicki: They’re in a more readable format, than back when you were using it, right?
Richard: Yeah. When I first started using it, you had to read it on your computer in your web browser. Now there’s an eBook option. Of course there’s a PDF download option. There’s many ways to read it that doesn’t require you to sit at your laptop or sit at your Chromebook and stare at the screen the whole day.
So that’s a really neat tool.
Tool #2: TimelineJS
Another one that is kind of an update on I would say the standard play in the social studies teachers’ playbook — and that’s the timeline project, right?
I think, going back since the dawn of time, people have been making timelines, right? TimelineJS which a free tool that your students can use, and you can use to make a multimedia timeline. The reason that I really like it?
It can be a collaborative tool. The way you build a timeline is you actually make a spreadsheet, and you just input into the spreadsheet template in TimelineJS a link to a YouTube video.
If you want to include a location in Google Maps, you can link to that. If you want to include a picture, you can link to a picture that’s in your photo album or anything that’s in the public domain.
And it’s also not restricted to AD/BC format. You could use CE/BCE, you know. It’s a very very flexible tool.
So I really like Timeline JS. And if you want to see an example of it, CNN even uses it to make some of their multimedia timelines.
So it’s a really neat tool. Free tool. Check it out.
Vicki: Very cool.
Richard: That tool — that’s kind of a standard. The timeline is kind of a standard in our history and social studies teacher playbooks, right?
Something that’s new… and I’m really excited about. I think the entire internet is excited about right now… is Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality. Right?
You know, those technologies have been around for a really long time — a couple of decades they’ve been available — but now they’re much more accessible than ever before.
Tool #3: Metaverse
One of the services that I’m really excited about is a service called Metaverse.
READ my review of Metaverse
Vicki: Oh, I love it!
Richard: Yeah, Metaverse Studio… The way that I’ve been describing it for the last six months or so is, like, it’s build your own Pokemon Go, but with an academic slant. Right?
So when I think about using Metaverse Studio in the social studies classroom, I often think about, “Could you make a historical Pokemon Go for your local community?”
Have your students build their own. Augmented Reality game in which the players go out. They look for landmarks in town, or in your county. When they get to that landmark, they get a little digital prize. And they can watch a video about that place, or they can learn more information about that place.
So if you played Pokemon Go, or if you have a child in your life who played Pokemon Go, that’s the concept behind Metaverse Studio. You can build your own game like that, and build an educational slant to it.
One of the things that those folks are doing at Metaverse Studio is they’re really trying to support teachers as much as possible. They have a fantastic Facebook page for teachers, that I’d encourage you to check out if you have a chance.
Vicki: Awesome!
Richard: It sounds like you’ve been using it, too, Vicki!
Vicki: My students started programming in Augmented Reality in November. And I’ve done some work for Metaverse, and I’ll disclose that. But I love it. It’s just fantastic, and there’s all kinds of potential.
Plus, there’s even some pre-packaged stuff that other teachers have created that you can play. But you know, the whole goal, as you and I often talk about, is to get the kids creating. So, love that.
OK, what’s your next?
Richard: I’m going to go out of order from my notes, because of what you just said.
So, speaking of creating…
Vicki: (laughs)
Tool #4: Google Expeditions
Richard: … when it comes to Virtual Reality, you know it’s great to sit back and take kids on a Google Expedition, which was going to be one of the things I was going to talk about anyway. Google Expeditions is great. You can show kids places that can’t be displayed in a 2D format. You know, a flat map is great, but going and looking at it in Google Expeditions? That’s a whole nother experience. Right?
Tool #5: Google Cardboard Camera App
But… I want kids to create things. So I like the Google Cardboard Camera App, and the Streetview App, particularly the Streetview App is you have access to a 360 camera. (If you don’t, it’s still an awesome spp. But the Google Cardboard Camera app will let you and your students make your own 360 degree imagery that you can then view inside Virtual Reality in a VR Viewer or a Google Cardboard Viewer or any number of hundreds of virtual reality viewers that are on the market now.
See episode 127 Simple Virtual Reality with Google Streetview and Google Cardboard with Donnie Piercey for how he’s using these tools.
Donnie Piercey recommended the Ricoh Theta S camera
The Google Cardboard Camera app in particular, I really like because I can narrate what’s being displayed to my students. The Google Cardboard Camera app now makes it very easy to share your imagery publicly or privately. If you want to just share it with your students, and not share it with the whole world — or you want students to share it without making it public, Google Cardboard Camera app is a really neat way to do that.
And I’ll give you an example of how I’ve seen it used by a school. I visited a school in New Hampshire last summer, where the teacher had decided that for part of his geology unit, actually, he was going to have the kids go out with that app and record some 360 panoramas and talk about some geologic physical features. So there’s a little extension outside of your social studies class, with the Google Cardboard Camera app.
So those are the five great tools that I think any social studies teacher should try out in 2018 if you haven’t tried them yet.
I could go on for days, as you know, about tools that are free and available with cool features. But I think those five, if you’re a social studies teacher who is looking to infuse some new things this school year and the new calendar year, that’s a good place to start.
Vicki: So Richard, as we finish up, I will link to the course in the Shownotes. I am recommending your history course with technology. Tell us a little bit about the course.
Richard: So the course is “Teaching History with Technology,” and it’s really based on partly my own classroom, my own social studies lessons, and then the new things that have come out since I left the classroom on a full time basis.
We go in detail, actually through all five of the tools that I mentioned today but also many, many others. It’s not just a “how to use the tool.” I’m really trying to encourage people to think about how to use the tools, and so I include examples and suggestions every week in the course on, “Here’s how this could work in your classroom. Here’s a couple of activities that I’d recommend trying out in your classroom.”
And of course, if you have any questions about it, the way that the course is formatted you just hit, “Reply,” on any module that I send to you. I’m there to answer your questions, clarify information. I’m there to help you.
So for the month of December, we have 35 people that are taking the course and they’re at various stages of completion because you can start and finish it pretty much whenever you want. If you want to start it tomorrow, you can. If you want to start it and finish it six months from now, you can do that as well. It’s really self-paced.
Vicki: Cool. So teachers, there’s lots of great tools out there that we can use. These are things we couldn’t even do before, and that’s the greatest use of technology is to be able to do things that we never could do — not just a substitute. To actually have new things and reinvent how we teach.
I will link, again, to the Shownotes. But thank you, Richard, and I love all your stuff. Keep it coming!
Richard: Thanks, Vicki!
Transcribed by Kymberli Mulford
Bio as submitted
Richard Byrne is the President of Byrne Instructional Media, LLC. which manages multiple websites and training programs for teachers. Richard is a former high school social studies teacher best known for developing the award-winning blog Free Technology for Teachers. He has been invited to speak at events on six continents and would gladly speak in Antarctica too. He also provides online training and guidance for teachers and technology coaches.
Blog: http://ift.tt/12CxJ5K
Twitter:@rmbyrne
Disclosure of Material Connection: Some links in this show are affiliate links. This means that if you choose to purchase that a small commission will be paid to me at no additional cost to you. Regardless, I only recommend products or services I believe will be good for my readers and are from companies I can recommend. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” This company has no impact on the editorial content of the show.
The post 5 Free Tech Tools to Try in Your Social Studies Lessons appeared first on Cool Cat Teacher Blog by Vicki Davis @coolcatteacher helping educators be excellent every day. Meow!
5 Free Tech Tools to Try in Your Social Studies Lessons published first on http://ift.tt/2jn9f0m
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5 Free Tech Tools to Try in Your Social Studies Lessons
Richard Byrne on episode 225 of the 10-Minute Teacher Podcast
From the Cool Cat Teacher Blog by Vicki Davis
Follow @coolcatteacher on Twitter
Richard Byrne, author of Free Technology for Teachers, was a history teacher. It shows. In today’s show, he talks about top free tech tools to try in social studies lessons. This is one to share with your history department.
Richard Byrne the author of Free Technology for Teachers has some fantastic professional development courses including a course for history / social studies teachers. Go to www.coolcatteacher.com/edtech and plan your professional development for 2018.
Listen Now
Listen to the show on iTunes or Stitcher
Stream by clicking here.
***
Enhanced Transcript
5 Free Tech Tools to Try in Your Social Studies Lessons
Link to show: www.coolcatteacher.com/e225
Date: January 5, 2018
Vicki: Today we have with us one of my favorite people, Richard Byrne @rmbyrne.
We’re talking about five free tech tools to try in social studies lessons!
Now, I will include a link in the show notes and in the pre- and post-roll for this podcast episode to an amazing teaching history course that Richard does have, as well as some other courses that he has online that you may want to join in.
So Richard, where do we start?
Richard: Well, where do we start?
Richard’s Background as a History Teacher
A little bit about my background, I think, for folks who don’t know me. I taught high school social studies for the better part of ten years, and also worked in special education for a little bit.
So this course is right up my alley, or this topic is right up my alley, of Using Technology in Social Studies. That’s how I got into the educational technology field, really, was through social studies.
So I want to share a few of my favorite tools that I think… Some folks might be familiar with, and some people might be brand new to them.
So, if you don’t mind, I’ll just jump right into my first one. What do you think?
Vicki: Yep! Go for it!
Tool #1: Make Bookshelves in Google Books
Richard: So this is one that’s right under everyone’s nose when ever they go to Google, but whenever I share it, people are like, “Oh! I didn’t know you could do that.”
It’s Google Books.
Now, there’s two versions of Google Books. There’s Google Books where you can go and buy a book.
But I’m talking about the research tool for Google Books that gives you access to millions of titles that are in the public domain. For a social studies teacher, a history teacher, who needs to give his or her student a little more access to historical articles and books, that’s a great resource. You can clip sections out of the public domain books, using the tools that are built right in to Google Books. I used to make “bookshelves” in Google Books for all my students.
You know, in my course, I’d have a 120-130 kids at a time, and our school library had about 30 books on the Civil War. So, you know, I’m a little short there.
So I’d go to Google Books, I’d make a bookshelf and I’d say, “Hey kids, here ya go. Here’s a whole bunch of resources that are public domain. You can look at them, read them online, and print them out if you want to print them.
So that’s one. And, as I said, it’s right under your nose. Just go to https://books.google.com/ and you can start using it.
Vicki: Yeah! And it’s so much easier now to read those books.
Richard: Oh, yeah.
Vicki: They’re in a more readable format, than back when you were using it, right?
Richard: Yeah. When I first started using it, you had to read it on your computer in your web browser. Now there’s an eBook option. Of course there’s a PDF download option. There’s many ways to read it that doesn’t require you to sit at your laptop or sit at your Chromebook and stare at the screen the whole day.
So that’s a really neat tool.
Tool #2: TimelineJS
Another one that is kind of an update on I would say the standard play in the social studies teachers’ playbook — and that’s the timeline project, right?
I think, going back since the dawn of time, people have been making timelines, right? TimelineJS which a free tool that your students can use, and you can use to make a multimedia timeline. The reason that I really like it?
It can be a collaborative tool. The way you build a timeline is you actually make a spreadsheet, and you just input into the spreadsheet template in TimelineJS a link to a YouTube video.
If you want to include a location in Google Maps, you can link to that. If you want to include a picture, you can link to a picture that’s in your photo album or anything that’s in the public domain.
And it’s also not restricted to AD/BC format. You could use CE/BCE, you know. It’s a very very flexible tool.
So I really like Timeline JS. And if you want to see an example of it, CNN even uses it to make some of their multimedia timelines.
So it’s a really neat tool. Free tool. Check it out.
Vicki: Very cool.
Richard: That tool — that’s kind of a standard. The timeline is kind of a standard in our history and social studies teacher playbooks, right?
Something that’s new… and I’m really excited about. I think the entire internet is excited about right now… is Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality. Right?
You know, those technologies have been around for a really long time — a couple of decades they’ve been available �� but now they’re much more accessible than ever before.
Tool #3: Metaverse
One of the services that I’m really excited about is a service called Metaverse.
READ my review of Metaverse
Vicki: Oh, I love it!
Richard: Yeah, Metaverse Studio… The way that I’ve been describing it for the last six months or so is, like, it’s build your own Pokemon Go, but with an academic slant. Right?
So when I think about using Metaverse Studio in the social studies classroom, I often think about, “Could you make a historical Pokemon Go for your local community?”
Have your students build their own. Augmented Reality game in which the players go out. They look for landmarks in town, or in your county. When they get to that landmark, they get a little digital prize. And they can watch a video about that place, or they can learn more information about that place.
So if you played Pokemon Go, or if you have a child in your life who played Pokemon Go, that’s the concept behind Metaverse Studio. You can build your own game like that, and build an educational slant to it.
One of the things that those folks are doing at Metaverse Studio is they’re really trying to support teachers as much as possible. They have a fantastic Facebook page for teachers, that I’d encourage you to check out if you have a chance.
Vicki: Awesome!
Richard: It sounds like you’ve been using it, too, Vicki!
Vicki: My students started programming in Augmented Reality in November. And I’ve done some work for Metaverse, and I’ll disclose that. But I love it. It’s just fantastic, and there’s all kinds of potential.
Plus, there’s even some pre-packaged stuff that other teachers have created that you can play. But you know, the whole goal, as you and I often talk about, is to get the kids creating. So, love that.
OK, what’s your next?
Richard: I’m going to go out of order from my notes, because of what you just said.
So, speaking of creating…
Vicki: (laughs)
Tool #4: Google Expeditions
Richard: … when it comes to Virtual Reality, you know it’s great to sit back and take kids on a Google Expedition, which was going to be one of the things I was going to talk about anyway. Google Expeditions is great. You can show kids places that can’t be displayed in a 2D format. You know, a flat map is great, but going and looking at it in Google Expeditions? That’s a whole nother experience. Right?
Tool #5: Google Cardboard Camera App
But… I want kids to create things. So I like the Google Cardboard Camera App, and the Streetview App, particularly the Streetview App is you have access to a 360 camera. (If you don’t, it’s still an awesome spp. But the Google Cardboard Camera app will let you and your students make your own 360 degree imagery that you can then view inside Virtual Reality in a VR Viewer or a Google Cardboard Viewer or any number of hundreds of virtual reality viewers that are on the market now.
See episode 127 Simple Virtual Reality with Google Streetview and Google Cardboard with Donnie Piercey for how he’s using these tools.
Donnie Piercey recommended the Ricoh Theta S camera
The Google Cardboard Camera app in particular, I really like because I can narrate what’s being displayed to my students. The Google Cardboard Camera app now makes it very easy to share your imagery publicly or privately. If you want to just share it with your students, and not share it with the whole world — or you want students to share it without making it public, Google Cardboard Camera app is a really neat way to do that.
And I’ll give you an example of how I’ve seen it used by a school. I visited a school in New Hampshire last summer, where the teacher had decided that for part of his geology unit, actually, he was going to have the kids go out with that app and record some 360 panoramas and talk about some geologic physical features. So there’s a little extension outside of your social studies class, with the Google Cardboard Camera app.
So those are the five great tools that I think any social studies teacher should try out in 2018 if you haven’t tried them yet.
I could go on for days, as you know, about tools that are free and available with cool features. But I think those five, if you’re a social studies teacher who is looking to infuse some new things this school year and the new calendar year, that’s a good place to start.
Vicki: So Richard, as we finish up, I will link to the course in the Shownotes. I am recommending your history course with technology. Tell us a little bit about the course.
Richard: So the course is “Teaching History with Technology,” and it’s really based on partly my own classroom, my own social studies lessons, and then the new things that have come out since I left the classroom on a full time basis.
We go in detail, actually through all five of the tools that I mentioned today but also many, many others. It’s not just a “how to use the tool.” I’m really trying to encourage people to think about how to use the tools, and so I include examples and suggestions every week in the course on, “Here’s how this could work in your classroom. Here’s a couple of activities that I’d recommend trying out in your classroom.”
And of course, if you have any questions about it, the way that the course is formatted you just hit, “Reply,” on any module that I send to you. I’m there to answer your questions, clarify information. I’m there to help you.
So for the month of December, we have 35 people that are taking the course and they’re at various stages of completion because you can start and finish it pretty much whenever you want. If you want to start it tomorrow, you can. If you want to start it and finish it six months from now, you can do that as well. It’s really self-paced.
Vicki: Cool. So teachers, there’s lots of great tools out there that we can use. These are things we couldn’t even do before, and that’s the greatest use of technology is to be able to do things that we never could do — not just a substitute. To actually have new things and reinvent how we teach.
I will link, again, to the Shownotes. But thank you, Richard, and I love all your stuff. Keep it coming!
Richard: Thanks, Vicki!
Transcribed by Kymberli Mulford
Bio as submitted
Richard Byrne is the President of Byrne Instructional Media, LLC. which manages multiple websites and training programs for teachers. Richard is a former high school social studies teacher best known for developing the award-winning blog Free Technology for Teachers. He has been invited to speak at events on six continents and would gladly speak in Antarctica too. He also provides online training and guidance for teachers and technology coaches.
Blog: http://practicaledtech.com
Twitter:@rmbyrne
Disclosure of Material Connection: Some links in this show are affiliate links. This means that if you choose to purchase that a small commission will be paid to me at no additional cost to you. Regardless, I only recommend products or services I believe will be good for my readers and are from companies I can recommend. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” This company has no impact on the editorial content of the show.
The post 5 Free Tech Tools to Try in Your Social Studies Lessons appeared first on Cool Cat Teacher Blog by Vicki Davis @coolcatteacher helping educators be excellent every day. Meow!
from Cool Cat Teacher BlogCool Cat Teacher Blog http://www.coolcatteacher.com/5-free-tech-tools-try-social-studies-lessons/
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