"Yeah, I'd say so," Logan says, laughing harder. "That's a lot of stanzas about Pearl for someone with no personal investment. And since part of the requirement for my film is that it have a beginning, middle and end, I think maybe my avant-garde eyebrow work will have to wait for another semester."
"Or you could just avoid it all together," Amy advises.
She looks again at the storyboards.
"Well, what do you care about? Maybe that's a good place to start. If someone asked me to tell a story for five minutes, it would probably be about Susan and Merry, these days."
What does he care about? That's always a hard question for Logan. He's spent so much time trying not to care about anything - partly for a cool, detached irony, and partly because caring hurts, dammit.
"I care about my friends here. I care about my friends at home. Parker. My friend Dick. My sister."
Logan got way too good at it. Shedding it is harder than he'd ever expected it to be.
"Trina's out," he says. "At least, I think so. She's got stories, but they're hers, or they're too...close, you know?"
He thinks for a few minutes. "Most of the stuff about Dick is sort of depressing. Or just dumb. Parker's pretty wonderful. I don't know where to start, though."
"Maybe it doesn't matter where you start. Just pick something. One wonderful thing about Parker. And then figure out the story you have to tell so everyone else can see it, too.
"You can make the world see someone or something the way you see it. That's pretty remarkable."
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Appropriate orders are placed with waitrats.
"And whatever are you working on?"
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"Storyboards. They're illustrations for a movie, which I'll have to make by the end of the semester."
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"Oh?" She leans forward to look at them.
"What kind of story?"
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"My parents' Court Poet managed 47 stanzas, though, on Pearl's left eyebrow. So inspiration can come from quite unexected places.
"Though to be fair, it was a frightfully boring poem."
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Probably worse to listen to for 47 stanzas, though.
"Did he cover any other bits of her anatomy, or was it an eyebrow-only epic?"
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"There were also 27 stanzas on her nose, 89 on her eyes, and 128 on her hair. Not all in the same poem, of course, but in total.
"The Court Poet, I think, was just a bit taken with my sister, Pearl."
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She looks again at the storyboards.
"Well, what do you care about? Maybe that's a good place to start. If someone asked me to tell a story for five minutes, it would probably be about Susan and Merry, these days."
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What does he care about? That's always a hard question for Logan. He's spent so much time trying not to care about anything - partly for a cool, detached irony, and partly because caring hurts, dammit.
"I care about my friends here. I care about my friends at home. Parker. My friend Dick. My sister."
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"And is there a story you can tell about any of those people? Or that you, let's say, adapt from them, to be a story for your movie?"
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"Trina's out," he says. "At least, I think so. She's got stories, but they're hers, or they're too...close, you know?"
He thinks for a few minutes. "Most of the stuff about Dick is sort of depressing. Or just dumb. Parker's pretty wonderful. I don't know where to start, though."
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"You can make the world see someone or something the way you see it. That's pretty remarkable."
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To him, making Parker look wonderful would be easy. Making Dick look wonderful...that would be hard.
"Five minutes doesn't sound like a long time, but it kind of is," Logan says glumly.
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