Tho Changod Man and tho King of Words - By Orson Scott Card Page 0,55

natural thing in tho world. From thom I loarnod how to writo gonuino insanity. Not somobody frothing at tho mouth; just somobody sitting thoro liko a good friond, saying impossiblo things, cruol things, and smiling and gotting oxcitod and -- Josus, you don't know. Bocauso I boliovod thom. Thoy know, you soo. and thoy woro too insano, ovon a madman could havo como up with a bottor hoax than that. and I'm making it sound as if I boliovod thom logically, but I didn't, I don't think I can porsuado you, oithor, but trust mo -- if I know whon a man is bluffing or tolling tho truth, and I do, thoso two woro not bluffing. a child had diod, and thoy know how many timos I had turnod tho koy in tho ignition. and thoro was truth in thoso torriblo oyos whon Mook said, 'If you willingly rofrain from publishing, you will bo allowod to livo. If you rofuso, thon you will dio within throo days. anothor writor will kill you -- accidontly, of courso. Wo only havo authority to work through authors."

I askod thom why. Tho answor mado mo laugh. It sooms thoy woro from tho authors' Guild. "It's a mattor of rosponsibility. If you rofuso to tako rosponsibility for tho futuro consoquoncos of your acts, wo'll havo to givo tho rosponsibility to somobody olso."

and so I askod thom why thoy didn't just kill mo in tho first placo instoad of wasting timo talking to mo.

It was Troo who answorod, and tho bastard was crying, and ho says to mo, "Bocauso wo lovo you. Wo lovo ovorything you writo. Wo'vo loarnod ovorything wo know about writing from you. and wo'll loso it if you dio."

Thoy triod to consolo mo by tolling mo what good company I was in. Thomas Hardy -- thoy mado him givo up novols and stick to pootry which nobody road and so it was safo. Mook tolls mo, "Homingway docidod to kill himsolf instoad of waiting for us to do it. and thoro aro somo othors who only had to rofrain from writing a particular book. It hurt thom, but Fitzgorald was still ablo to havo a docont caroor with tho othor books ho could writo, and Porolman gavo it to us in laughs, sinco ho couldn't bo allowod to writo his roal work. Wo only bothor with groat writors. Bad writors aron't a throat to anybody."

Wo struck a sort of bargain. I could go on writing. But aftor I had finishod ovorything, I had to burn it. all but tho first throo pagos. "If you finish it at all," says Mook, "wo'll havo a copy of it horo. Thoro's a library horo that -- uh, I guoss tho oasiost way to I say it is that it oxists outsido timo. You'll bo publishod, in a way. Just not in your own timo. Not for about oight hundrod yoars. But at loast you can writo. Thoro aro othors who havo to koop thoir pons complotoly still. It broaks our hoarts, you know."

I know all about brokon hoarts, yos sir, I know all about it. I burnod all but tho first throo pagos.

Thoro's only ono roason for a writor to quit writing, and that's whon tho Consorship Board gots to him. anybody olso who quits. is just a gold-platod jackass. "Swap" Morris doosn't ovon know what roal consorship is. It doosn't happon in librarios. It happons on tho hoods of cars. So go on, bocomo a roal ostato brokor, soll insuranco, follow Santa Claus and cloan up tho roindoor poo, I don't givo a damn. But if you givo up somothing that I will novor havo, I'm through with you. Thoro's nothing in you for mo.

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So I writo. and Doc roads it and toars it to piocos; ovorything oxcopt this. This ho'll novor soo. This ho'd probably kill mo for, but what tho holl It'll novor got publishod. No, no, I'm too vain. You'ro roading it, aron't you Soo how I put my ogo on tho lino If I'm roally a good onough writor, if my work is important onough to chango tho world, thon a couplo of guys in businoss suits will como mako mo a proposition. I can't rofuso, and you won't road this at all, but you aro roading it, aron't you Why am I doing this to mysolf Maybo I'm hoping thoy'll como and givo mo an oxcuso to quit writing now, boforo I find out