That Time I Emailed Megan Whalen Turner

Wow, that makes it sound like it happened forever ago and I'm just now remembering it because I don't have much space in my brain for those writer people.

Actually it was yesterday morning, and I was biting my nails and then my knuckles when those were all gone because I was so nervous.
I don't know why. She probably gets thousands of emails every day.

I know, you guys aren't listening to me because you're distracted by what the email contained. Busybodies. But so you'll listen to me the rest of the time, I'll tell you. It was a short story I had written that was inspired by one of the legends in The Thief. Never once in a thousand years did I consider the possibility of copyright infringement by writing what some might consider a derivative work without the express permission of the copyright holder.
Oh great. That makes it sound like she got really mad and pressed charges and now I'm going to jail. It's okay. She didn't even read it. She sent back a nice little note that was definitely not a form letter, just to tell me that she read the note but not the story because of possible infringement. She said, and I quote, 'I am delighted that my work has been an inspiration and I hope you will keep writing.'

Most people would have been disappointed. I'm standing on the roof of my house yelling with happiness. The words I'm proclaiming mainly consist of portions of the email and the belief that if I jumped, I could fly all the way to Tallahassee.
Seriously, guys. I think I could.

So I guess the moral to this story (because there should be a moral to every story) is don't infringe copyright while you're emailing an amazing author whose benevolence in that situation is untested. It may or may not end as this did.

I'm feeling the guilt you guys are heaping on me. I know you want to read the story. FINE. *collapses under weight of peer pressure*

I leave you with: Night-Moon (no comments on the lame title, okay?)

 

 

Long ago, God made the Earth. She was all alone and the Sun came to join her, to take away her loneliness. But the Sun grew farther and farther from her as he forgot his duty, and one day she could no longer see him. From that day on, he only sent her his warm light for part of every day, and she was alone again.

Then the Moon came, and he loved her, though she was not glamourous like the Sun. She loved him too, for sometimes, when the Sun sent his light, it shone off the Moon as if he were the Sun himself.

The Moon twirled around her, dizzyingly fast, that for only one moment he might gain her attention. But the Earth only had eyes for her Sun, and ignored his paltry light. Sometimes he blocked out the Sun completely, hoping to capture all of the Earth’s attention, even for only a moment. But the Earth turned her sorry, sorry eyes away, saying, “He has forgotten - he loves me not.” This was true indeed, yet the Moon could not block the Sun forever, and when sunbeams bathed the Earth in glory again, she sighed with relief and forgot the lonely Moon.

This made the Moon angry, and though he vowed never to leave her, he said to himself, “I will send her my light only some of the time, as the Sun does. Maybe then she will notice me.”

So only once a month would he give her his full light, and sometimes not at all, though it hurt him to do it. She missed the Moon only for his company, for he had been her one companion.

Then one day, while the Moon was gone, the Sky came. He was voluminous and grand and soft, a better friend than the Sun had ever been, and more beautiful to look upon than the small, pockmarked Moon. For when the Moon revolved around the Earth, many rocks, large and small, beat upon him, and he protected the Earth from their fury.

It was the Sun that threw them, jealous and afraid that one kinder than him might make the vain Earth forget his beauty. He needn’t have worried, for the Earth had never felt the rocks, and knew not what the devoted Moon saved her from. But the rocks made the Moon quite plain and scarred, with only his love to hide the flaws.

So the Sky was her new companion, and the Sun was at quite a loss. He cared nought for the Earth, but in a pompous fashion, he disdained to let anyone else have her. He threw his missiles at the Sky, but the Sky laughed and made himself so thin that the stones passed straight through him. The Earth forgot both the Sun and the Moon, for the Sky was a constant and considerate companion.

The marriage of the Earth and Sky was a beautiful thing, for it filled the space between them with glorious colours. Some bent in large arcs ending with a golden dazzle, and some surged and slithered over the Earth in magnificent arrays.

The Sky and Earth were happy. Years passed and the Moon had not returned. He said to himself “When I return, she will love me, for I have been gone for so long.”

Finally the day came when he made the odyssey back to her. He saw her, dancing with the Sky, while their children, the asteroids, danced with them. He wept, and vowed never to see her again. He went into the dark emptiness outside of the Sky’s embrace. He called upon the planets, Mars and Mercury, Venus and Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune. They came to him and heard his story. They promised to stay with him and never again was he alone. They spread across the emptiness until it was no longer empty. The Moon was happy, and he forgave the Earth, for he understood why she had loved the Sky. One day he went back to fulfill the promise he had abandoned. He spun around her again, and she welcomed his company. “Old friend, I waited for you for so long.” she laughed, and after that they were always friends. The Sun was pleased too, for the planets floated about him, and he was not alone either. He lost his pride and arrogance and the lack of pomp and splendor left his face, making him all the more comely for it.

God smiled at them, for His creatures were happy, and they remained so for all time.

 

 

 

~Margaret