February 2018 Featured RPG

PLOT & RULES FAQ | MEMBER GROUPS | GETTING STARTED | REGISTRATION
Have you read the Newspaper?
You can read it Here

Loves is in the air and Lovematch.com is back to spread it around. If you are curious what to do this Valentine's Day then look no further than the front page of The Lochland Times.

Craziness continues through the town. Some is funny, some is political and some is just plain weird.

Welcome to Lochland Grove
Open since January 2, 2014

We are a Real Life Roleplay site focused on enriching character driven stories through events, newspaper headlines, and even death. Set in modern day Connecticut, our background plot follows the on-goings of a small town with a murderous past. Whether your character explores it is up to you. Life is about choice - this is your story. Our goal is to provide a place where you will feel comfortable writing it. Come join the fun!

The Ice Festival

Beautiful buildings and sculptures made of ice glowing under a halo of fireworks? What a beautiful place for a Valentines Day Date.

Ice Skating Rink

The ice skating rink from last year has returned. Ice Cream Dream will be selling hot drinks at the door. When you get cold why not stop for a treat?

CLAIMS | ADOPTABLES | CREDITS | ADVERTISING | AFFILIATION


Site News

February 14th
New Announcements!

February 10th
A new newspaper is (Up!)

February 8th
The Activity Check and Birthday Hunt are over.

Chatbox

Staff

Admin

Kat

Head Mod

Mods

 
Pages: (2) 1 2  ( Go to first unread post )
Add Reply
New Topic

 More Than Words On Pages, Tag: Jorge Cervantes
Grace Miller
 Posted: Jan 19 2018, 10:04 PM
Quote
Newcomer
Shade


Grace loved taking her daughter to the book store. She loved that Hannah was already getting into reading like she was at four years old. She wasn't an accomplished reader by any means, but she had learned to read on a level that a lot of other children her age hadn't. She took a lot of pride in that.

Grace stood over at the children's section and looked over some books with Hannah. She smiled as Hannah picked a few out.

"Oh, Dr. Seuss is a good choice," she said. "How about some Disney books?"

"Here's one with Elsa and Anna," said Hannah. "And one with Ariel." She then picked up another. "Mommy, who's this?"

"Oh that's Meg from Hercules," chuckled Grace.

"Who is Hercules?"

"Oh, that's right, you haven't seen that one yet. We'll have to see if they have it on Netflix." Grace didn't want Hannah in front of the TV too often, and definitely monitored what her daughter watched, but it was nice to watch a Disney movie with her now and then.

Soon, Hannah had what she wanted and put them in the basket in Grace's right hand.

"Okay, I'm going to go look in the history section, and then we'll go get lunch," she said. "Sound good?" Hannah smiled and nodded.
PM
^
Jorge Cervantes
 Posted: Jan 20 2018, 12:08 AM
Quote
Townie
Thoth


Jorge kind of hated these things, and yet he kept agreeing to do them. Really there was no reason to be irritated with them. He was a poet and a damn good one back in his hayday. So what if some of the local bookstores liked to have him come in for readings every now and again, it broke up the monotony of his days. But it wasn’t the bookstore that was the problem, it was the fact that Jorge didn’t care for people all of the time. People tended to...well...suck. He found it deplorable, actually, how people treated and thought about books these days. But, if there were some who still respected them, who was he to spit in its face?

So, Jorge agreed. He would make appearances at local bookstores whenever they ran out of guest speakers and needed someone local last minute. That had been the case this time. Some hotshot writer was supposed to be having a book signing at the Looseleaf Bookstore but cancelled last minute to make a TV appearance. The owner scrambled and remember that Jorge was local poet, published several times over the years.

The begging message on his voicemail amused him. He considered asking Brooklyn to make it his ringtone but figured it to be far too mean of a thought. Rather, the poet agreed, he would do a reading, sign a few autographs for those who cared (few, actually), and he would make his appearance.

Thus, that was why he was here, sitting in a small sitting area just off of the history book section. The poet was dressed simply in his jeans, a old Bob Dylan t-shirt and his brown leather bomber jacket. His dark glasses sat firmly over his eyes, masking the sightless orbs in an effort to keep people from being creeped out or staring. Upon his lap sat his folded, white cane.

He wouldn’t have to read many poems together, just a hand selected few from one of his earlier books. It really shouldn’t be that big of a deal. So the man say in silence, his book of poetry sitting upon his lap. In his ear was a earphone that related to him his own voice, reciting one of his poems. It was not that he was a fan of his voice, but it was good to listen to some of his own poems so that he could recite them properly.

Sitting on his foot, was his sweet comrade, his golden retriever, Emma, who was resting rather comfortable in her jacket that asked passerbys to not disturb her as she was working. Reaching down, he calming petting her soft head, chuckling as she yawned.

”I know,” he smirked. ”I promise, I’ll get you a treat once we’re done.” he sighed, starting the poem in his ear again. ”Your Old Fool has got an appearance to make.”

--------------------
PM
^
Grace Miller
 Posted: Jan 20 2018, 08:32 PM
Quote
Newcomer
Shade


Grace walked over near an area where it seemed that poetry reading was about to take place. She loved those, and thought about staying a moment to see who was speaking. She then watched as a man made his way to the stage. She found herself waiting anxiously to see what poems he would read when Hannah went running off.

"It's a puppy!" she said. Grace looked over and her eyes widened when she saw the jacket on the dog. She quickly ran over and took her daughter's hand.

"Hannah, no," she said.

"But the dog's so pretty. It looks like Midas." said Hannah. "I just wanted to pet it."

"Hannah, sweetie, that's a very special dog that helps people," she said. "You're not allowed to pet dogs like that when they're helping."

"Why?" asked Hannah.

"You just can't," said Grace. "I'll tell you why some time. Right now, why don't we sit and listen to this nice man up here while he reads some poetry." Hannah frowned, but she could tell that her mom was very serious, and stepped over to sit down.

"Is he going to read boring poems or good ones?" asked Hannah.

"I'm sure they'll be wonderful sweetheart," said Grace. Something told her they would.
PM
^
Jorge Cervantes
 Posted: Jan 21 2018, 12:55 AM
Quote
Townie
Thoth


It wasn’t long before it was Jorge’s turn to take the stage. While he didn’t look forward to public appearances, when it came to poetry, the man could stifle his annoyances with the public in favor of bringing them a bit of culture. But it was a double edged sword. He loved to recite, but to recite his own poetry tended to be a mixed bag. Either it reminded him of his past, something he didn’t care for, or it earned him far more attention than he liked. Still, it was too late to walk out of this now so, instead, he just sat and awaited his turn.

When the host for event came up, a younger man by the sound of it, he was enthusiastic as he called for people to claim their seats. Jorge could hear the sounds of people shuffling, the creaking of chairs, and the general murmur of people all sitting together. It wasn’t a lot, or at least it didn’t sound like it, but the man knew he had at least some kind of audience. It was best to not disappoint them.

His name was uttered and there was a small, respectful applause. Putting on his best public face, the poet smiled, raised his hand and waved in their direction. As he made his way to the stage, he used Emma to guide him until he was upon the small landing. Making his way to the podium, he pulled his earphone from his ear, wrapped the cord around his MP3 player and stuck it inside of his pocket. Emma sat down and patiently waited.

”Um, hello, everyone. Thank you for decided to, heh, waste your time listening to an old man prattle on” He smirked. A small laughter rolled through the crowd. ”Without further adieu, my name is Jorge Cervantes, author of ‘The Bronze Dragon’,” he lifted the book to show everyone. ”But you didn’t come for a salespitch. So let me begin with a select few.”

He cleared his throat. Taking up a bottle of water on the podium, he took a sip, sighed, and began to recite from memory.

Jorge knew all of his poetry by heart. As he stood on the stage, the minutes seemed to roll away in seconds as he recited some of his favorites, as well as requests from the audience. Despite being the quiet curmudgeon who barely interacted with the people of Lochland Grove, he was still fairly well-spoken man who clearly had a passion for his field.

Several poems later, Jorge smiled, holding his hand up at the small applause he received. He was reaching his last poem for his turn as he was sharing the event with another poet who was waiting in the wings. His time nearly up, he switched to his last poem.

”Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I would like to finish with one of my favorites, based in Greek Mythology. For those who know the story of Acteon, I do hope you believe I will have done this some justic…”

He paused, pulling up the memory of the poem, and began to speak:

”There I see her, bathing in a clear pond,
smiling as water splashes on her
face. Her pale, snowy skin has an allure
that draws me in, like a siren’s sea song.

Bare to the world, with just the water as
her robes, she sees me not as I witness
droplets rolling down her glorious form.

But then a sudden slip of my foot has
given me away. Her rosy lips twist
into rage, while her eyes flash like a storm.

‘No man may look upon me,’ she whispers.
A flurry of noise and then I hear hooves
stamping and feel thick antlers caught in twos.
I flee, hounds chasing, and fear in me stirs.”


Jorge breathed, smiled and waved to everyone. Muttering that he hoped they would have a good day, the poet once again picked up Emma’s harness and made his way off the stage. The MC once again took the podium, thanking Jorge for his time and brilliance, and the poet merely offered a small smile and a dismissive wave of his hand. Unfolding his cane, he turned, trying to remember the direction fo the coffee bar. He could use a sip of that about now...

--------------------
PM
^
Grace Miller
 Posted: Jan 21 2018, 12:30 PM
Quote
Newcomer
Shade


Grace was glad that Hannah gave up on the idea of petting the dog. This was because once the man spoke, she was captivated. The poetry he picked, how he read it... it was just beautiful. Grace just sat in awe. She managed to look over, thinking Hannah might have been getting bored with it. However, Hannah was listening as well. She was smiling too. When he was done, both were applauding.

"Can we go over to him and tell him he did a good job?" asked Hannah.

"Sure, I don't see why not?" said Grace. Grace was usually apprehensive about meeting new people, but there was something in the man's voice that told her that he was a good human being. And really, Grace needed to meet more people outside of her colleagues at the school.

The two stepped over to the man, and Hannah just beamed.

"Your poems were great, Sir," said Hannah. Grace was glad that Hannah was getting better at saying "Sir" and "Ma'am."

"They really were wonderful," said Grace. "And beautifully spoken. I'm Grace and this is my daughter, Hannah. We just wanted to step over and let you know how much we enjoyed the reading."

"Is that you dog, Sir?" asked Hannah. "We have one like it at home. His name's Midas."
PM
^
Jorge Cervantes
 Posted: Jan 21 2018, 11:37 PM
Quote
Townie
Thoth


Jorge was happy to be done with another obligatory reading for this year. He wasn’t often called, only a couple times every year, but they tended to be a rather sporadic when they happened. The planned readings were coming less and less and, more often than not, he was being called in order to replace a speaker or host who had cancelled last minute. He assumed that he should feel some annoyance at that, but hardly seemed worth the effort. Besides, it was some quick extra money and, as much as he hated to say it, it was a chance to get out of the house.

At least it was over now. The poet could tuck the experience in his cap, await whatever check they would send him for his services, and in the meantime he could get himself some overpriced coffee. All in all, it was a pretty average day for the blind poet. Emma’s harness in hand, he was getting ready to follow his nose to the coffee bar when he heard the smallest coo of a dove.

He turned. Though he couldn’t see her, judging from the sound of her voice, he could guess that it must have belonged to a child.

Children always had a soft spot in Jorge’s world. Maybe it was because he lost his own daughter at such a young age, maybe he liked the reminder that he wasn’t some cruel gargoyle from a bygone year, whatever it was, he happened to enjoy speaking the kids. Of course he could only surmise that the child wasn’t alone and was proven when another voice joined her. Slightly older, more mature, definitely the mother or aunt he originally guessed.

Mother. Score one in the record books for himself.

Respectfully the man dipped his head towards the duo, planting his unfolded cane on the ground and turning in their direction. ”My deepest thanks,” he said earnestly. ”It is always a pleasure to hear that my works are appreciated.” He gave them both a soft smile.

Normally Jorge would have excused himself at this point. He wasn’t the most conversational of people, but he stopped when the young child spoke up one again. This time the topic switched away from poetry and onto the patient creature sitting at Jorge’s side. He smirked a little, listening as Emma panted at the mention of the young girl’s questions. She was well trained to not respond to people’s beckonings but, like him, the old girl had a soft spot for kids. Still, she was careful to not move from Jorge’s side.

”That she is,” he said kindly. ”Her name is ‘Emma’. She’s been a good friend of mine for many, many years.” The golden retriever with the gray whiskers sniffed in both their directions, standing and pointed towards the young girl. Jorge smirked as he blindly reached down and patted her head. ”Go on, Emma. You can say hi.”

Emma, never one to turn down an invitation, turned and sniffed in the young girl’s direction before her soft tongue reached out to lick whatever limb was closest to her.

--------------------
PM
^
Grace Miller
 Posted: Jan 22 2018, 07:04 PM
Quote
Newcomer
Shade


Grace smiled when the man thanked her and Grace for their compliments. She definitely picked up the vibe that he was a decent man, and this made her more comfortable with speaking to him.

"You're quite welcome," she said. "I'm a teacher, and I have a great deal of respect for such creativity. And I wish I could read poems like you to my class."

When she saw that the man was kind enough to tell Hannah the name of his dog and allow the dog to greet her, Grace was tad worried that Hannah would forget what she said and try to pet the dog again. To her relief, Hannah just giggled when Emma licked her hand.

"And your name is Jorge, correct?" she asked, remembering the name when the man was introduced to come up and read. "I'll probably ask you again if I see you again. I'm terrible with names, I guess that's what role sheets and seating assignments are for." If she didn't have those things, she would probably have taken weeks to remember all of her kids's names.

"Can I have some hot chocolate, Mommy?" asked Hannah.

"Um... sure, why not?" she said. "I think I'll have some too." Grace then smiled at the man. "May I buy you something? It's the least I could do for the wonderful poetry."
PM
^
Jorge Cervantes
 Posted: Jan 22 2018, 11:42 PM
Quote
Townie
Thoth


Jorge was not the cuddliest of people, but meeting with kids surprisingly tended to lighten his mood. His therapist would indeed make the connection between his behavior and losing a child so young, but it was never said outright to the poet. Not unless the they were ready for a ten minute lecture on how utterly idiotic it sounded. Rather Jorge just liked to think that, from time to time, even he didn’t have to be a complete ogre to everyone. It just so happened that kids, most kids anyways, didn’t deserve it.

Also the kid’s mother didn’t seem all that rude. Besides, she liked his poetry so the least he could do was not think the absolute worst about her. He thanked her for her kind words and was greeted with further praise, as well as a revelation that she was a teacher. He dipped his head respectfully.

”My condolences,” he said jokingly, and then gestured to himself. ”I teach as well. At the community college,” he stated. ”I teach literature. Seemed almost too cliched for a poet to teach poetry, but here we are.”

At the verification of his name, Jorge responded with a “Yes” to confirm, smirking a bit at the woman’s apparent bad memory. He knew quite a few professors who were like that as well, but they would blame the reason being that being in higher education meant not having the time to learn everyone’s name. It was probably true; he could hardly judge as he rarely remembered anyone’s name but out of choice.

A giggle issued from the younger girl, clearly a sign that Emma had taken him up on his offer to greet her via tongue bath introduction. After a brief and silent conversation with his dog, Hannah then moved on, asking if hot cocoa were in her future. Soon enough, the prospect of hot chocolate turned into an invitation of sorts. Would he take a steaming cup for getting to listen to his poetry.

The poet scoffed.”After having to listen to my poetry, I assure you, I should be paying you,” he said with a grin. Then he thought for a moment. ”How about this, point me safely in the right direction, and I will be more than happy to treat the both of you.” he shrugged. ”I could honestly go for a cup of hot chocolate myself anyways. And it’s the least I could offer the two of you.”

--------------------
PM
^
Grace Miller
 Posted: Jan 26 2018, 11:43 PM
Quote
Newcomer
Shade


Grace was confused at first over the condolences line. She had a bit a of trouble picking up some humor. She then got it and chuckled. She was pleased to hear that the man taught as well, and at the college.

"That's wonderful that you teach poetry," she said. "And on a college level. I imagine your classes get to cover the classics- Shelley, Frost, Whitman."

Grace really didn't want the man to have to buy her and Hannah hot chocolate. However, she also didn't want to be rude and turn down his offer.

"Thank you," she said. "That's very nice of you." She then did what she could to help him over to where they could order the drinks." She then turned and mouthed "Say thank you" to Hannah, who was still focused on the dog.

"Thank you for the hot chocolate, sir," said Hannah. Grace smiled at her daughter. She then turned back to Jorge. "Besides poetry, what other literature are you interested in? I'm a adamant bookworm, so naturally I'm a bit curious." Grace was surprised at herself that she was so comfortable around this stranger, but he just had such a gentle, sophisticated nature about him.
PM
^
Jorge Cervantes
 Posted: Jan 27 2018, 01:08 AM
Quote
Townie
Thoth


Sadly there was a small portion of people who didn’t altogether care for the fact that Jorge taught college. The majority of them felt he should have never given up poetry, while others wanted him to stay home and live off of his savings and whatever royalties he still managed to receive for his books. But while that was a distinct possibility, the man wasn’t in all that much of a rush to sit home and do nothing the rest of his life. Sure he talked about big game about doing that but, at the end of the day, the poet knew that he needed to keep busy.

On the plus side, Jorge actually loved the subject that he taught, which was clearly reflected in his lessons. His students may have thought he was a cruel, strict man, but they would walk away form his classes with a clear appreciation of the material that he taught them. If he had to be the bad guy to ensure that, then so be it.

Grace, however, seemed to enjoy the idea of him being a professor. Instantly she started spouting off some of his favorites and the man nodded his head, offering hera small smile.

”Oh yeah,” he agreed. ”We touch on those as well as several other that I feel my students should be exposed to. Really the list goes on it just means every semester my courses are fresh for the most part.”

However the older man didn’t want to keep the woman all day so he was ready to offer his thanks once more as well as make his exit. But, it seemed that the young girl still playing with Emma had inquired after some hot chocolate. Her mother agreed with her child before she suddenly offered the same to Jorge: was there something he wanted? In all honesty it was easier to have someone show him where the coffee bar was, though he wouldn’t make her do it for free.

No, in a rare moment of “friendliness”, Jorge offered her the same deal as payment for showing him where the bar was: it was the least he could do. To his surprise she actually accepted, a point that was accentuated by the young child’s voice as she offered her thanks as well.

He smirked and nodded. ”Of course. My sincerest pleasure.”

His cane in hand, Jorge followed the woman’s voice as she kindly pointed him in the right direction. Emma led him forward, her eyes open for any danger, as Jorge swept the area carefully with his cane. As he walked, he craned his head when Grace inquired after his preference in literature. Being naturally inclined towards the written word, she wanted to know his take on it. The professor “hrm’d” to himself in thought before he spoke up.

”Well I have a number of favorites but the majority of my expertise is in English Literature,” he commented. ”Bronte, Austen, Milton, Chaucer, just to name a few,” he said. ”There is also something to be said for the authors of the Lost Generation, those who wrote during and after World War. I’m no fantasy buff, but Tolkien and Lewis,” he chuckled. ”They’re stories are far more interesting when you put it in that context.” Feeling he was going on too long, he inquired after you. ”And you, self-proclaimed bookworm? Are their particular authors or genres you gravitate towards?”

--------------------
PM
^
Grace Miller
 Posted: Jan 28 2018, 10:30 PM
Quote
Newcomer
Shade


Grace was just fascinated with Jorge and what he did. If she ever taught a higher grade, she would want to teach English Literature. She loved it in school. She could discuss great authors and poets, and so many masterpieces.

"I imagine you can keep it fresh, with so much material to choose from," she said. "I imagine you love going to work every day."

Grace and Hannah exchanged smiles when Jorge said it was his pleasure to buy them a hot chocolate. Grace waited patiently for Jorge to do so, but Hannah was a bit bouncy. She loved hot chocolate.

Grace was then entranced by Jorge speaking of his favorite authors. She was pretty sure she had found a new friend, and could listen to the man all day. It was wonderful meeting someone who shared her interests.

"I love all of those authors and poets," she said after being asked what she liked. "Paradise Lost, The Canterbury Tales, The Hobbit... I could go on. I'm also a fan of some contemporary authors- John Green, Jojo Moyes, and I like some of Stephen King's work... though mainly his non-horror works. I've never been a big fan of horror, even the classic works. The Green Mile is beautiful though."
PM
^
Jorge Cervantes
 Posted: Jan 29 2018, 05:09 PM
Quote
Townie
Thoth


Jorge liked the field of study that he chose. Poetry had been an integral part of his being, which of course led him to all the great works of fiction. He had a deep appreciation for the written word and that showed in the way that he taught his classes and lived his life. There was always an audio book available in his playlist and he had amassed a collection of braille versions of his favorites, plus standard print for his personal collection. Jorge was a great lover of books and, when he got to speaking with another about the subject who was equally as enthused and they could certainly make a friend for life out of him.

It seemed that Grace herself certainly was a great love of literature. She paid him a compliment, guessing that he kept his classes fresh. Jorge liked to think so but he doubted his students did. Sadly that was just the way with teenagers and young people, but that was just his opinion. Still, he had to snort when she asked if he loved his work.

”I love parts of it,” he explained. ”Trust me, there are some aspects I could certainly do without.”

Lateness. Lazy students. People trying to bargain their way to a higher grade. That was just a small number of the things that Jorge didn’t care for in his chosen profession but at least that didn’t tarnish the lessons themselves. Hell, every once and awhile he came across a truly good student, one who was willing to learn and put in the hard work and come out of his class with a deeper understanding of what he’s trying to teach.

It restored his faith in humanity more than once.

Once at the register, Jorge ordered a hot chocolate for himself, as well as whatever Grace and Hannah wanted. When all was said and done, the professor pulled out a specially folded bill, a ten judging by the fold and handed it off. When his change was returned, he asked the cashier to hand back bills to him, one at a time, and folded them by their denomination. Coins were easier to judge than paper money so there were no need to count that.

As they waited for their drinks, Jorge regaled the younger woman with his favorite stories, and those seemed to have spurred on the younger teacher. She admitted that many of his favorites were hers, but that she also enjoyed a healthy portion of the more modern fair. He dipped his head respectfully, knowing that those were also much beloved by the populace. He didn’t care about what kind of books people read, so long as they read.

Except ‘50 Shades of Grey’; that was just deplorable.

”Yes I myself have dabbled into a few of his works,” he agreed. ”Personally I’ve enjoyed his short stories far better than his novels. They can be either underwhelming...or a little heavy handed,” Jorge admitted, obviously little caring if a true Stephen King fanatic were around to hear him. ”Though I will certainly try ‘the Green Mile’ the next chance I get.” He smiled, turning his head as he listened to the barista continue her work on their drinks before turning back to Grace. ”I do care for a number of modern writers, however. Neil Gaiman and Stephen Chbosky have been particularly enlightening.”

--------------------
PM
^
Grace Miller
 Posted: Feb 1 2018, 12:05 PM
Quote
Newcomer
Shade


Grace thought about the downsides of her own job. Kids screaming, getting hurt on the playground, making messes. She wouldn't trade her job for anything, but there were the drawbacks.

"Yes, I agree teaching jobs aren't always perfect," she said. "I think we really have to be built for that type of work. I was raised in a fairly strict household, so I think that helped a little."

Grace chuckled about Stephen King's work. Jorge was right about him. The Green Mile was a breath of fresh air about some of the stuff she tried to read by King.

"People kept recommending The Dark Tower to me," she said. "But I couldn't get through the second book. It got way too deep and just a bit too crazy for me."

Jorge mentioned a pair of his favorite modern authors, and Grace beamed. This man was just wonderful to talk to.

"I've really considered checking out Neil Gaiman, but I was hesitant," she said. "But since he's gotten your praises, I might just have to give him a try." Grace smelled the hot chocolate being made and saw that Hannah was anxiously watching the barista work. That kid really loved her chocolate.
PM
^
Jorge Cervantes
 Posted: Feb 2 2018, 12:31 AM
Quote
Townie
Thoth



Yeah, it was true, teaching jobs were not perfect. Angry parents, irritating students, laziness, all of it seemed to sour the experience but Jorge still loved parts of it. The best was coming across those students who were absolutely on point with everything. It made him feel like he was actually doing his job, a novel idea, of course, but it was one that he actually lived for.

Grace hit the nail on the head when she said that people have to be built for the work. In her case she had a strict household and aided her in being able to set down rules and structure for her students. It definitely made sense to him. Jorge’s whole life had to be changed once he went blind and he had to relearn a whole new way of life. He needed be able to create structure and work within it; it was an experience that he brought to his teaching as well.

It was good to hear that other teachers were able to do it too.

After ordering their drinks, Jorge stepped aside and waited for them to be prepared. He was still conversing happily with Grace, sharing his own views on Stephen King, chuckling when she lamented her struggle with the Dark Tower series. ”Yeah I heard it is a fairly tough read to get through, unless you have the patience for it…” he snorted. ”Or a complete masochist.”

Remembering the child still nearby, he quelled his comment and instead listened as Grace told him about her own choice in deciding if Neil Gaiman was worth her time. It was true, he wasn’t for a lot of people as his works could be a bit shocking to the system, especially if unprepared. That was why it was better to with the man’s more child-oriented fiction before jumping into his big stuff.

”Here’s a tip, if you want to get into him, start with his kid’s stuff: ‘The Graveyard Book’ or ‘Coraline’. They serve as a pretty good introduction to his style and help set up how he writes his worlds.” he explained. ”Once you finish one of those, then I suggest ‘Neverwhere’. It an excellent basis for his adult fiction and will prepare you for anything, even ‘American Gods’.”

Jorge knew loads about books, especially how to read them. He didn’t mean to make it sound like he was giving Grace homework, rather he was just sharing a good tip he had for how to deal with this particular writer. She could take his advice or not, he really wouldn’t care.

”Order for Cervantes!!!” A young woman shouted.

He smiled. ”Ah. I take it our drinks are ready,” He stepped aside to allow Grace to claim her drink and her daughter’s hot chocolate.


--------------------
PM
^
Grace Miller
 Posted: Feb 5 2018, 07:45 PM
Quote
Newcomer
Shade


Grace chuckled about being a masochist to read through the Dark Tower.

"Well I'm certainly not that," she said. "I don't think I've ever been a fan of any kind of pain, especially reading a painful book."

"I don't like pain either," said Hannah. "The other day, I fell off my bike and scrapped my knee. It hurt like crazy." Brace was relieved that Hannah didn't ask more about what a masochist was.

Grace listened as Jorge suggested some books by Gaiman. She wished she had a notepad to write them down on. She also seemed to need one when she didn't have one on her.

"I'll try to remember those," she chuckled. There was always Google. "Thank you for the suggestion."

Grace smiled as she took her hot chocolate and gave the other one to Hannah.

"Thank you again," said Grace. "This was very kind of you."

"Thanks!" smiled Hannah before she took a sip. "Mmmm, really good."

"Would you like me to show you to a table?" asked Grace, hoping the offer didn't come off the wrong way. She assumed he didn't want to just stand there and drink. Not only that, there was still a bit of a crowd in the cafe.

PM
^
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:

Topic Options
Pages: (2) 1 2 
Add Reply
New Topic