I had my father get sick when I was 22. And I was poor, alright. And my father had an ulcer, and it exploded and you know all these toxins get in your blood. And basically, my father died, whatever, 50 days after his ulcer. So I had a father get sick while I was poor.
My mother got sick when I was rich. And my mother, you know… I don’t really want to get into it, but my mother was sicker than my father. And my mother’s alive. My mother’s fine, OK? I remember going to the hospital to see my mother and wondering, ‘Was I in the right place?’ Like, this was a hotel. Like it had a concierge, man.
People don’t… if the average person really knew the discrepancy in the health care system, there’d be riots in the streets, OK? They would burn this motherfucker down!””
aria657 said: I am reading The Turn of the Story for the third time (in the same month which is kinda sad but it's amazing and I can't help myself) and just thank you so much for writing this! I am so excited for Monstrous Affections to come out and for us to see what things are like from Luke's perspective. (Elliot's my favorite though, like he's just my poor not so sweet baby and I adore him) But like Elliot is gonna have so much fun with what happened to Luke. Poor Luke. :P
Aw. I think that is extremely complimentary, and thank you! I always find re-reading to be the best compliment, as it means wanting to go back and spend more time with the characters, dwell on the little things and in the world a little longer. I promise to write more soon.
For now and to thank you for the kind message, here’s a wee excerpt from the Monstrous Affections short story. It’s hard out there for a harpy. ;)
' When Luke crept into the library at lunchtime to see if there were any books on harpies, there were conspicuous gaps all over the ‘Creatures of the Otherlands’ section, and when Luke heard footsteps coming by he ducked around the shelves and hid, flattened against the Science of War section, his heart pounding.
Everybody seemed to know. But Serene and Elliot didn’t know, and maybe they didn’t have to. Luke resolved not to tell them.
“There,” said Elliot at dinner, flinging down what he called his ‘ballpoint pen’ into his peas. Luke honestly didn’t see what he had against quills. “I’m done.”
“You can’t eat those now,” Serene observed.
“I wasn’t intending to,” Elliot said. “I’m suspicious of all green food.”
“I’m half harpy,” said Luke.
Luke was very bad at resolutions.
“Yes, we know,” said Serene. “Your mother told us at the Trigon game. But she said not to tell you.”
Luke’s mother, and Serene, were very bad at keeping secrets. Luke looked at Serene, whose face bore its usual martial lack of expression, and then reluctantly at Elliot.
Elliot was arranging his large stack of paper with a self-satisfied air.
“Yeah, loser. I have not been compiling a comprehensive and yet comprehensible to even the slowest—that’s you—record on harpies for my health.”
“What? Give me that!”
Elliot held it out of his reach, smiling. “What will you give me for it?”
This wasn’t a joke: this was Luke’s life. Luke could have beaten Elliot up. He’d always known he could, if he wanted to, and never quite been able to do it.
“What do you want?” he said through gritted teeth. ’