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swedeheadchris

Goodkind XXVII: Welcome to the Yeard Reich

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I'm sorry, I'm too overcome with laughing my head off to respond coherently at this point.

I'll try after I get some sleep.

Ah, but which part tickled your funny bone the most? The part where Terry said he puts all his eggs in one basket and can't think ahead? Or the part where he said he writes the best book he can? Unconditionally. The best book.

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Despite claims by some to the contrary, most true TG fans are unable to think for themselves. That's why what TG writes speaks to them so totally.

Dontcha know that? :P

Very true. In fact, I've always known this. It is my job to do their thinking for them. Tairy sub-contracts this work out to me. And let me tell ya... man, is it ever exhausting. Here's a sample from an IM string I had to endure last night:

#1 TG FAN: Hey, RT, do you have a minute? I have a situation.

RT: Sure. What's up?

#1 TG FAN: It's about my superman jammies. They're itchy.

RT: Change them.

#1 TG FAN: Into what? Anti-itch cream? I'm not a magician like Zedd.

RT: *sighs* Take them off and put on a different pair of jammies.

#1 TG FAN: Oh. Good idea. What do I do about the poop?

RT: What poop?

#1 TG FAN: In my pants. If I take them off, the poop will fall out onto the floor.

RT: Why didn't you use the toilet when you felt the urge to poop?

#1 TG FAN: I tried to IM you at the time, but you weren't online. The toilet seat was down.

RT: *double sigh* I told you before - if that ever happens again, just lift the seat and do your business. You don't need to ask me.

#1 TG FAN: Yeah. I remember. But the cat was on the seat. I couldn't lift it without squooshing him.

RT: Have you considered a colostomy bag?

#1 TG FAN: A what?

RT: Never mind. Is the cat still on the seat?

#1 TG FAN: No.

RT: Good. Lift the seat and put your poop in the toilet. Don't forget to flush.

#1 TG FAN: Okay. Ewww. My hands are getting messy from holding the poop. Should I wash them?

RT: You could lick them clean.

#1 TG FAN: Huh? Are you sure?

RT: Absolutely. How does your cat clean himself?

#1 TG FAN: Ummm... *scratches head* By licking?

RT: Correct. And aren't cats extremely clean animals? Think about it, they're always fussing about their appearence.

#1 TG FAN: They are!!! So it's okay to lick myself clean, then?

RT: Why not? If it's good enough for a cat, it must be good enough for you. Right?

#1 TG FAN: Right!!! Wow! Thanks for the help again. One more question...

RT: Sure. What?

#1 TG FAN: Which pair of jammies should I wear? The Spiderman or the Hello Kitty?

RT: Easy. Choose Hello Kitty, and choose life!

Edited by Red Templar

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As I've stated before, my bet is on him exploring the Confessor/Wizard son that Dick and Klan were supposed to have. I figure, that's why he put an end to it in this series; just to save it for later.

You've got it all wrong! After "Confessor", Richard will learn that he is a wizard and doesn't have to live with his mean old aunt and uncle anymore! He will spend the next 7 years (32 books) at a school for witchcraft and wizardry where and his friends will have lots of adventures and make lots of speeches.

Very true. In fact, I've always known this. It is my job to do their thinking for them. Tairy sub-contracts this work out to me. And let me tell ya... man, is it ever exhausting. Here's a sample from an IM string I had to endure last night:

:rofl: :rofl: :rofl: :rofl:

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You've got it all wrong! After "Confessor", Richard will learn that he is a wizard and doesn't have to live with his mean old aunt and uncle anymore! He will spend the next 7 years (32 books) at a school for witchcraft and wizardry where and his friends will have lots of adventures and make lots of speeches.

That's what I get for thinking. I'm just going to get in line and shut up. Which way to the cliff? :)

(I wouldn't be suprised if he does that. Tairy will only copy authors with as large an audience as his own. Well... kind of.)

________

In the manuscript of Wizard's First Rule, which is twice as long as the book because it's double-spaced, there's a little tiny bitty torture scene with a woman named Denna, which lasts 70 pages. (Laughter) When my editor first saw this, he said, "Well, Terry, this is way too much and we need to cut down the explicit torture and violence."

The reason he said this is because I was successful in accomplishing my goal, and my goal was not to write about torture. My goal was to write about the true nature of abuse. The true nature of abuse is not violence or torture. What I was doing in that scene was showing you graphically the true nature, the true terror, of abuse.

He’s, as usual, giving himself credit for being a better writer than he is. He wasn’t showing the ‘nature of abuse’ but getting off on the process of abuse.

That is the terror of abuse: helplessness.

For me it was boredom.

Fantasy allows me to show you in a new way why abuse is so degrading -in a way you've never seen before because it surprises you to come at it like this, in this manner, and you discover yourself trapped in this character, Richard. You then understand what he's experiencing.

And fantasy is the only genre which allows for gratuitous and graphic sex/torture scenes?

More importantly, you fall in love with Denna

Ummm… nope.

I never write down to readers.

:lmao: :bs:

Not everyone gets it, but I think most people do.

Well, we don’t get it. At least, according to Mystar we don’t.

I couldn't read through the Q+A's - the centered text was too much for my eyes.

Edited by Muttering Bill

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I've started writing a parody. Unfortunately, as with most things I write, it's gotten longer as I've worked on it. I'll post part I of the parody right now, with more to follow as I complete it (assuming the forum considers it worthy of continuation). As with most parodies, spoilers may be present for those who haven't read the source material. Also, my apologies to Jeff Vandermeer for using his wonderful story in such a fashion. I must say, however, that I had a lot of fun writing it.

Richard, in Love

Part I

The woman in the window was beautiful. She was perfectly framed in the second story window of Zorander and Sons, the store where she presumably worked. Her hair was lustrous, long and brown. Her eyes were the brightest green. Her breasts were voluptuous orbs of virtue. She was wearing a lily-white dress, so Richard knew she was not only pure, but a symbol of purity incarnate. She was staring out the window into the shadowing dusk. Richard knew from her gaze that she was longing for someone to sweep into her life and teach her the value of freedom and truth uncompromising. Richard would be that someone.

He was on the verge of climbing the steps to store when he paused. He had only that day arrived in the city, having been away for years. During his travels he had seen much of the world Old and New, and known many women, sometimes two or three at once. But he knew that the woman in the window was different. She wouldn’t throw herself at him as other women always did. She would need some, what was the word, romance. In a rare epiphany, Richard remembered that some people considered gifts romantic. He would buy her a gift. Although Richard disapproved of gift giving as a general rule, he was betting that the truth-loving woman in the window wouldn’t take the gift without offering something in exchange. Perhaps her lithe body? The thought of it made his thing rise.

Richard strode resolutely away from the store and perused the other shops and stalls of the surrounding bazaar. Hmmm… Flowers and chocolates were too cliché. He would seek more unique treasures. He passed a pet shop selling Gar toys and accessories, but didn’t pause as he knew that he was the only person noble enough in spirit to have a pet Gar. Why there would even be a pet shop devoted to selling such things perplexed him. He discounted it immediately, as he did with all things that perplexed him. He briefly considered a full-body, red leather dominatrix outfit sprawled in a shop window, but regretfully concluded that he should wait until at least third base before buying it for his love. Then he saw a small shop tucked between two larger and knew that he had found the perfect location from which to buy his present.

The sign above the shop said Warrens Books. The gift of a book would demonstrate that he was both romantic and intelligent. You are a sly dog, he told himself.

A bell above the door tinkled as he pushed his way into the dusty gloom of the bookstore. A few windows cut mote-filled orange blocks of light into the shadowed interior. Several other patrons wandered in and out of darkness, on errands of their own. Richard strode past shelves lined up according to category, growing ever more disgusted as he read the placards. Western Religion. Horrible. Eastern Religion. Even worse. Communism. Worst yet. Fantasy. Ugh. Richard glided to a stop. Perhaps he had made a mistake.

A waiting clerk noticed his indecision and sidled over. He was both smugly knowing and obsequious, and he irritated Richard to no end. What’s more, he was poxy and thin, with lank hair and sallow feature. Someone that hideous couldn't possibly have chosen life. Richard avoided looking at him to avoid contaminating his eyes with the clerk’s ugliness.

“May I help you?†The clerk queried while rubbing his hands together in a disturbing fashion.

“I’m looking for a gift for someone – for a woman who loves life.†Richard responded, pretending to look at the shelf immediately in front of him so as to not meet the clerk’s eyes.

“Ah, well, yes. If she loves life then perhaps you’ll be interested in this section over here.â€

The clerk led him to a far corner of the store where a small shelf proudly bore the placard Objectivism. This was more like it. The clerk reached up and pulled a book from the shelf. It was titled Objectivism A to Z. He handed the volume to Richard.

“Perhaps this will do?†The clerk asked, smirking.

Richard’s irritation with the clerk was increasing, but he flipped through the book excitedly. This book would tell her exactly the right opinions to have about all sorts of topics! Richard paused, the book balanced in his hand.

“Wrap this one up, and I’ll take another one for me,†Richard said.

The clerk smirked again. Richard’s thing exploded in anger. He let the book in his hand fall and reached back behind his head to grasp his ever-present sword. He could feel the wire-embossed word “Truth†press into his palm as he wrapped his hand around the hilt. He pulled the sword free with a distinctive ringing sound that filled the bookstore. With lightening fast skill Richard swung the sword around in a deadly arc. The blade cleaved cleanly through the clerk’s skull, like a warm knife through butter. Bits of grey, pulpy flesh and red-soaked tissue fountained from the clerk’s head as the blade entered one side and exited the other. Blood and brains flew about the store, splattering books and patrons alike. The force of the passing sword caused the top of the clerk’s skull to spin free from the bottom and land on the floor where it revolved madly like a top. Richard calmly bent down and caught the falling book inches from the floor. The clerk’s body slumped to the floor. Richard wiped his sword on the clerk’s trousers. He stood and sheathed his sword - the ringing again filling the shop as the sword slid home. The other patrons stared at him, wild-eyed with mouths agape. Only seconds had passed.

Richard swept his raptor like gaze around the store. None of the patrons had moved. Some still held books in trembling hands that were either in the process of removing them or replacing them on the shelves.

“I see I’ve been away from this city for too long!†Richard roared. Some of the patrons jumped at his voice.

“Life is full of absolutes! A equals A! Truth is truth! You are either my friend or my enemy! As I am the champion of freedom of truth, it follows that my friends are also champions of freedom of truth! My enemies then, are the enemies of freedom and truth!â€

Richard pointed an accusing finger at the prostrate form of the clerk.

“Through his falsely integrating manner, through his sneering contempt of my love for life, this clerk branded himself my enemy! Better a thousand of my enemies should die than one be allowed to devalue freedom and truth! That one be allowed to devalue life! Would that I didn’t have to kill them! I hate to kill! But it is only through my enemies’ deaths that the world sees how valuable life really is!â€

Richard stopped a moment, breathing heavily. A woman in a corner was weeping softly; she hid her face in her hands. Nuggets of gray matter were lodged in her hair. Richard sneered at her, then let his righteous sneer encompass the other patrons.

“I trust that I can consider you all my friends and not my enemies?â€

No one made a reply.

“I SAID I TRUST I CAN CONSIDER YOU ALL MY FRIENDS AND NOT MY ENEMIES?â€

Tentatively at first, then with increasing conviction, with a few fearful glances exchanged amongst themselves, the patrons nodded their assent.

“Good,†Richard sniffed.

Cradling the now soaking copy of Objectivism A to Z in one hand, Richard pulled a second copy from the shelf for himself. There was no one to wrap her copy now, but he would give it to her as it was. No doubt she would be impressed by the vigor of a man who could cover a book so thoroughly in brains and fluids. On his way out of the store, Richard made sure to drop a few coins on the front counter. A person that didn’t strictly adhere to the laws of society didn’t deserve to live in that society.

Edited by From that One Book

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ummmm.... wouldnt the poop be in his hair then? :leaving:

Yeah, but I didn't want to over-complicate things for him.

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"If you love ice cream and you can go downstairs to get it, it's not going to take much of your time, so its value is small. If the only ice cream is in France, and you decide to go there to get it, that means you really love ice cream because you are giving up a great deal of your life to go to France to get the ice cream."

Good God what sort of author writes interview-replies like this? oh, wait.

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TERRY LIKES ICE CREAM

DON'T JUDGE HIM.

JUST BECAUSE HE WENT TO FRANCE DOESN'T MEAN HE LIKES THE EVIL COMMIE PINKO FRENCH.

(sorry about that, just speaking like a fan)

Edited by Un-Yearded Pita

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Ummm… nope.

Okay. I admit it. While I didn't "fall in love with Denna", I did kind of wonder who'd be playing her in the movie in all of that skin tight red leather...maybe Jennifer Lopez, you know, in an outfit similar to the one she wore in The Cell? Yeah. That'd be fine. You gotta figure Denna had a great ass, right? I mean, what's not to love about that?

That's what I get for thinking the books were escapist. Damn my eyes.

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Eddy Murphy as Denna.

ULTIMATE COMEDIES LOLZ HE'S A MAN ACTING AS A WOMAN HE BRILLIANT HAR HAR HAR.

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Eddy Murphy as Denna.

ULTIMATE COMEDIES LOLZ HE'S A MAN ACTING AS A WOMAN HE BRILLIANT HAR HAR HAR.

Yeah, not so much. :P

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I think it was the torture one that got me laughing. He just doesn't quite get it, does he?

I wanna go back to sleeeeeep.

Just read a few pages of Soul of the Fire. That should do the trick. Either that, or a couple shots of tequila. :P

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The reason he said this is because I was successful in accomplishing my goal, and my goal was not to write about torture. My goal was to write about the true nature of abuse.

Do I even need to mention the illogic of Richard bouncing back, physically and emotionally, from the gratuitous torture/sex within a day? Sorry, I was thinking with the big head rather than the one Goodkind thinks with.

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The torture/sex is obviously reference to Almost Rape. and Almost Rape doesn't quite count, therefore, he has nothing to recover from.

Even if he does need to recover, this is Dick Rahl. He is not bound by petty human means and limits, because he is the main character. Thus, he is exempt from such things.

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I'd just like to comment that the reason I found this place was that I saw a referance for this thread about those who detest Tairy (as I've already learned to call him) on another message board. While I only read a couple of the books years ago when I was in my late teens, possibly early twenties, my hate still lives for the works of the yeard.

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