Got it, read it, laughed a bit, and replied. This is, btw, literally the earliest I have ever booked a Worldcon room, and only the last hotel had -any- space available (this was 2 weeks ago). I am hoping that someone with more organizational skills decides they don't want to go later, and is looking for someone to pick up their reservation...
My sister was visiting and I had to listen to her go on at length about what a brilliant writer Michael Chabon is (which he is, I'm not objecting) but with that realization that to her, an academic, I'm always a kind of second (or maybe I'm being optimistic, maybe I should say third or fourth) rank genre writer.
It could also be that you're her sister. I do not think there is anything I could do that could elevate my work in my sister's opinion such that she could judge it as if it weren't written by me. It's not that familiarity breeds contempt -- because it's not contempt; she does like a lot of my stuff -- but maybe more that familiarity rubs the glow off; there is no way she could look at anything I do with awe.
Well, she can occasionally be awed at what she considers my cluelessness, but that's entirely the wrong sort of awe.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2008-02-14 04:56 pm (UTC)Got it, read it, laughed a bit, and replied. This is, btw, literally the earliest I have ever booked a Worldcon room, and only the last hotel had -any- space available (this was 2 weeks ago). I am hoping that someone with more organizational skills decides they don't want to go later, and is looking for someone to pick up their reservation...
My sister was visiting and I had to listen to her go on at length about what a brilliant writer Michael Chabon is (which he is, I'm not objecting) but with that realization that to her, an academic, I'm always a kind of second (or maybe I'm being optimistic, maybe I should say third or fourth) rank genre writer.
It could also be that you're her sister. I do not think there is anything I could do that could elevate my work in my sister's opinion such that she could judge it as if it weren't written by me. It's not that familiarity breeds contempt -- because it's not contempt; she does like a lot of my stuff -- but maybe more that familiarity rubs the glow off; there is no way she could look at anything I do with awe.
Well, she can occasionally be awed at what she considers my cluelessness, but that's entirely the wrong sort of awe.