theogarza:
“I didn’t. Gadsden Girls lost out to uh, Permafrost,” Theo’s nose wrinkled. “Don’t know what it was about zombies that year, but it sure made me wanna write a better book so…” he trailed off, considering that he might just need to write something out of spite again. Seemed a little trite but maybe he’d give it a real shot. Forever and a Day had turned out to be one of his favorites. His companion’s suggestion earned a bit of a blank stare, having sidetracked Theo’s original thought process. “If my parents thought I was in a slump they’d be supportive, but I think they’re a little, uh, too sympathetic, a little biased since they’ve never been short on material to write about themselves. My mom’s put out a book of poetry every eighteen months like clockwork since I was eleven. My dad just alternated between books and scripts until he decided to retire. I don’t think we really do mediocrity. S’alright, though, I kinda like the eventualities. Even if it takes me a couple decades I’ll write something, probably.” Theo was slightly less cheerful, but he was warming up more and more. He gestured vaguely towards the counter, since he hadn’t bothered to look at the menu yet at all.
He hadn’t really meant to touch on a sore subject, the question had just tumbled out. Ari was a little worried he might be depressing him, making him dwelling on his lost award, but it could be that Theo was already as low as he could go, on an average day. He seemed comfortable with his own gloom, if a bit resigned to it---and Ari could relate to that. “They sound intense, your parents. And bookish. Not always a bad thing, but I guess you get a different perspective if your goals are to contribute literal books to the world.” His own parents weren’t particularly inclined towards the arts, so he had to figure that the pressure Theo was feeling was one Ari wouldn’t be familiar with. He didn’t actually know what his family would think if he took up literature, as he hadn’t told them he was inclined to it. But maybe there was something to pick up, from a near-award-winning author? “Did you just follow their footsteps, then? Or is it like, a “true calling” for you---uhh...” He belatedly realized he was at the counter, and redirected his attention briefly to the person behind it. “One... black coffee, and whatever he’s having” he said, his mind still focused on his new companion. “Please and thanks,” he added, scrabbling for his wallet.












