There’s a knock on the bedroom door and I call ‘Come in,’ because I have some idea of who it might be. When I turn in my desk chair I’m unsurprised to find Joel standing there, looking a little unsure of himself, and I beckon him forward.
“Hi,” he says as he takes a couple of steps closer. “I know you’ve been writing some stories about Taithmarin
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Talking to a world ... it's fun, it's enlightening, but they are very alien minds compared to a finite mortal person.
I spent much of the movie Avatar thinking, "This plot needs more beetles. There should totally be a plague of beetles destroying the human base. Or slime mold." And instead it was all photogenic megafauna.
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(Scribble, scribble. Pause. Riffle of pages.)
Knock, knock!
Who's there?
Nobody.
What? Who said that?
Nobody.
Is there somebody at the door?
You asked.
What do you mean, I asked?
[silence]
(Riffle of pages. Scribble, scribble.)
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