[American Magic] Lost Twins (short-chapter version)

[Arakawa]

We see a bit of the LPO and Powell's idiosyncratic interactions with her coworkers.  Of more importance is her conversation with Desmond.  We find out that magic is fairly well-known in higher circles, enough that the US government would catalogue and store articles of sufficient danger.  Desmond seems cursorily aware of this, too, and treats such matters merely like they're not really his area of responsibility or expertise.

...

Still, it strikes me that the threat we're being told of is very intellectual in nature, driven by lack of knowledge.  We see Powell is concerned, but we cannot really grasp the magnitude of the danger that is posed.  We're only convinced that there is something serious going on thanks to all this exposition. I can't really think of any other way to go about this, however, without making significant changes, so you may just have to roll with it.

Okay. This gives me a few other things to try to clarify, if I can. Simon doesn't see any problem with taking the unexpected in stride; however, having other apparently-normal people react normally may leave him a little confused as to who is and isn't supposed to know about magic, so I might have him comment on the notion of Desmond reacting to the notion of a genie with nothing more than (*ugh; this again*).

As for the intellectual nature of the threat, I'm not sure what the best way to roll with it is. Powell restates her case for being suspicious of the situation a lot -- first to Mr. Desmond, then to Simon with the genie present, then to Simon on his own in the next section. She's urgent and dismissive to Desmond, tries to fascinate Simon with the lecture, and then a third time she'll try to impress the matter on Simon further to make him appropriately nervous about getting the authorities involved; it makes some sense that things would play out this way in practice, but the repetition is a bit unwieldy to keep fresh.

Desmond seems to be taking this quite in stride, all things considered.  He certainly doesn't seem surprised by a genie appearing before him, more irritated, as if just witnessing this mess means more paperwork for him.

Indeed. There's no chance to do it in this story, but exactly how Desmond manages dealing with Powell (or doesn't) would be worth further exploration. Powell's strategy is generally to overwhelm Desmond with an unknown situation, so that he's forced to defer to her opinion until he can get his own knowledge from some other source; by which point Powell is already in control of the issue.

There's a bit of an Orwellian dimension here, in that Powell's understanding is that the authorities tasked with dealing with genies would not be on Simon's side or care about his interests or rights. While Mr. Desmond is okay, she's walking a terribly thin line here between having to present the truth of the matter (which he can and will go and verify on his own), and emphasizing it in such a way that he won't bother with the authorities, while letting her do her own appraisal.

That dimension of things is a bit complicated to get across while it's still going way over the narrator's head, though....

Really, Powell is pretty much caught off balance by the genie popping up. She goes to Jay St. - MetroTech knowing in advance she'll find something, but not something this major. And the old man is totally off her radar right now. She really doesn't have any reason beyond the principle that anything so major and so unknown is, by default, to be considered extremely dangerous.

The genie comess off like a fish out of water, unaccustomed to the situation she's in, and to be honest, rather childish in temperment. Perhaps this just goes well with the image she's projecting.

It most likely has a lot to do with an (unconsciously felt) need to be as likeable as possible. So, most of her uncertainty and discomfort are expressed through a (more tolerable) childishness rather than a more 'adult' reaction, which (my gut feeling is) would be more unpleasant for Simon to deal with. Here, having to thwart her works in a way that makes him more likely to feel emotional involvement for her, not less.

So whatever her personality, and even if it's somewhat malleable from person to person (was she quite like this with the much older fireman, for instance?), it shouldn't be thought of as a deception. (It's far easier to just become the personality you're presenting than to have to consciously project it... and a lot more genuine.)

I think the quotes go outside the ending punctuation?  Or maybe this is a regional thing.

The scary-looking government website tells me that Canadian periods go inside the quotes, so I shall obey lest they send Mounties to beat me with their ceremonial exclamation marks.

(http://www.btb.gc.ca/btb.php?lang=eng&cont=1422)

Are you deliberately drawing out this vowel?

Yep, not sure if that's the right thing to do or not. (It would be drawn out in speech, but is it acceptable to represent it like that?)

For whatever reason, I really like how the data entry guy turned out. He takes Powell in stride, estimates the dimensions of things just by holding them, and is well aware of the basically inane professionalism his job requires on most days (cataloging items, the vast majority of which will never be returned). (Desmond, on the other hand, takes things a bit too seriously.)

Instead of the semicolon, perhaps consider a dash?

Will do.

[Muphrid]

There's a bit of an Orwellian dimension here, in that Powell's understanding is that the authorities tasked with dealing with genies would not be on Simon's side or care about his interests or rights. While Mr. Desmond is okay, she's walking a terribly thin line here between having to present the truth of the matter (which he can and will go and verify on his own), and emphasizing it in such a way that he won't bother with the authorities, while letting her do her own appraisal.

That dimension of things is a bit complicated to get across while it's still going way over the narrator's head, though....

Yeah, I definitely got that impression--that she was trying to have it a little both ways because it was the only way she could get the freedom to do as she needed while also justifying her involvement in the first place.

It most likely has a lot to do with an (unconsciously felt) need to be as likeable as possible. So, most of her uncertainty and discomfort are expressed through a (more tolerable) childishness rather than a more 'adult' reaction, which (my gut feeling is) would be more unpleasant for Simon to deal with. Here, having to thwart her works in a way that makes him more likely to feel emotional involvement for her, not less.

So whatever her personality, and even if it's somewhat malleable from person to person (was she quite like this with the much older fireman, for instance?), it shouldn't be thought of as a deception. (It's far easier to just become the personality you're presenting than to have to consciously project it... and a lot more genuine.)

Right, it gives the feeling that these genies are very malleable by nature, and a personality is little different from an outfit in terms of how easy it is to change, and how it does change to fit the audience.  But as you say, there's no inherent malice in doing this.

[Arakawa]

Posting the current version I have to the next section, in spite of it being extremely rough. (I'm a bit too snowed-under at work to do much writing, and it's been far too long since the last section was posted, so I'm posting what I have instead of revising much....)

I at least have the events in this bit correct, and have covered at least the necessary info so far, so there's not much to be gained from hiding the chapter away at this point while I'm thinking how to fix. Editing this part would hopefully be more an issue of streamlining / removing exposition and tweaking prose style.

[Arakawa]

NB: on re-reading the above section, I've found it to be disappointingly sub-par (worse than the initial versions of the other ones); it remains to be seen how I'll fix the problems I see with it.

So just as a heads up if any people are still interested in sharing impressions, that general impressions will probably be more useful than prose style tweaks (for scenes that will probably be changed anyways).

[Muphrid]

Eh, too late, I wrote this up this afternoon and forgot to post.

Plot and Structure

Forbis is Powell's subordinate, yet she goes to Desmond to find Forbis another task.  This seems necessary for Powell to get some freedom from Forbis, but it also seems straining logically.

The whole scene with Desmond, Powell, and Forbis seems very strained.  There isn't an ounce of civility, even feigned civility, here.  It makes the scene a bit uneasy to read through.

To me, the idea that the notebook was deliberately lost always seemed a bit off, and the old man's reappearance seems to bear that out.  Maybe he realizes that Simon has the genie when he talks to him, or maybe he doesn't, but he seems frantic enough before he runs into Simon.  This makes Powell's estimations and guesses seem a bit boring because we know she's a ways off from the truth.  This also makes the interview scene at Powell's desk seem a bit dry, too, because it ends up with her not really finding much of anything.  The scene does not, in itself, seem to progress anything.

Characterization and Development

Simon's scene during dinner, talking to himself, seems quite an apt response to his newfound voice.

Powell's in a somewhat tough situation trying to persuade Simon to trust her while also saying he should be skeptical and paranoid.

Style and Command

In addition to the sign, the door was emblazoned with a number of attention-grabbing safety decals, akin to the "Danger: Radiation" or "Danger: Biohazard" signs most people are familiar with, though these did not use any logos that I even remotely recognized. One looked deceptively similar to the biohazard warning sign, but instead of linked spikes or horns it consisted of strange free-floating ones, arranged in a way that somehow immediately brought to my mind the word 'disjoint'. Other symbols were far less recognizable. The most enigmatic logo, given pride of place in the middle of the bunch, was simply a pentagram with a question mark in the middle. The general impression was highly intimidating.

Nice imagery.  I think this works very well from a first-person perspective.

"Yeah, in the interest of brevity, please don't try to hold yourself back: I am asking for a lot any you have no reason to trust me, is that what you're getting at? It would be a hypocrisy for me to bring up 'good old-fashioned paranoia' and not expect something like this...."

Correct to "and".

By this kind of goading interaction, Powell quickly obtained more information about what I'd been doing in New York than I myself could even be bothered to keep track of on a daily basis.

By this kind of goading interaction, Powell quickly obtained a fairly complete picture of my life so far in New York; indeed, a more complete picture than I had even bothered to assemble on my own, which was sobering.

Is this repetition intentional?

"Ugh... Well, coming back to my main point. The genie is bound to you. In fact, it would have been bound to the first person to take an unguarded look inside that notebook, without special handling procedures. And once it's bound, you can't just lost a genie on the subway. And yet, in spite of all that, you found the notebook, and so someone must have taken special precautions to drop it. See the problem?"

Lose.

"If you're the 'best magician in North America', then why are you working at the lost and found, then?" I asked.

Comma inside/outside quotation marks thing.

Misc

"Did you honestly expect me to make things easy for you? Now get out of here; Mr. Desmond should be able to find you another task, I think, while I get Simon and this damned genie sorted out."

She referred to him as Molloy earlier, as well as later.  Actually, she seems to go back and forth seemingly at random.

[Arakawa]

Thanks for the response anyway. This at least helped me solidify a list of things to pay attention to:

Spoiler: ShowHide

Forbis is Powell's subordinate, yet she goes to Desmond to find Forbis another task.  This seems necessary for Powell to get some freedom from Forbis, but it also seems straining logically.

The whole scene with Desmond, Powell, and Forbis seems very strained.  There isn't an ounce of civility, even feigned civility, here.  It makes the scene a bit uneasy to read through.

Spot on in terms of this being a problem. I wonder if it might be more interesting / less jarring if they have an interaction to the same effect, but disguise it under layers of civility. That way, Simon would barely pick up that something's going on, but not witness the full potential vehemence of these two's conflict at this stage.

This scene is also problematic in that -- in the restaurant scene later on -- Powell is a lot more mellow towards Forbis, so clearly I'm not understanding some of the interactions here.

Writing this story feels a bit like a forensic reconstruction, to be honest. I 'know' which characters meet with which other characters and what the substantial fallout is from those interactions, and I have to figure out actual dialogue and motives for the character that fits these facts. Some of the reconstructions are easy -- e.g. Simon and the old man in this section -- while getting the others right -- most of the interaction in this chapter, the prologue -- is cussedly hard. (I lost a lot of time when putting together the prologue thinking the mediocre magician was a con artist trying to fool the old man into... something or other. That clearly didn't work out.)

To me, the idea that the notebook was deliberately lost always seemed a bit off, and the old man's reappearance seems to bear that out.  Maybe he realizes that Simon has the genie when he talks to him, or maybe he doesn't, but he seems frantic enough before he runs into Simon.  This makes Powell's estimations and guesses seem a bit boring because we know she's a ways off from the truth.  This also makes the interview scene at Powell's desk seem a bit dry, too, because it ends up with her not really finding much of anything.  The scene does not, in itself, seem to progress anything.

Hmm. Handling this well requires a lot of thought. Basically, prudence doesn't really allow Powell to assume the best about the notebook, so she prefers to act on the best guess she has, even if it's a bit of a wild goose chase, rather than to let Simon alone.

This does, in my opinion, reveal a lot more about her character than anything else she does. She's willing to take drastic action that she decides on the turn of a dime, with a low probability of results, in spite of the huge inconvenience it causes to Simon, simply because it has a better chance of unearthing information or catching someone off balance than if she did nothing or referred him to the government.

In point of fact, she guesses correctly that there is a plan going on, though not what the plan is, nor that Simon is only included in it due to an actual accident. (From what I understand, she also has her probability magic running, and is somewhat alarmed due to the fact that Simon's appearance was triggered by no less than three separate templates for events she wanted to occur -- and she can't really figure out why; but she isn't actually able to cite that as a reason.)

Simon's scene during dinner, talking to himself, seems quite an apt response to his newfound voice.

Okay, it's good to hear I at least have one aspect of this down :P

Powell's in a somewhat tough situation trying to persuade Simon to trust her while also saying he should be skeptical and paranoid.

Yep. A lot of this is only provisionally resolved in the last scene with her not-quite-oath. I may have to think about how this is handled a bit more. (There's an unfortunate element of unreliable narrator that suddenly crops up, in the sense that Simon is extremely hesitant to explain to the reader what it is that he finds convincing about her words.)

By this kind of goading interaction, Powell quickly obtained more information about what I'd been doing in New York than I myself could even be bothered to keep track of on a daily basis.

By this kind of goading interaction, Powell quickly obtained a fairly complete picture of my life so far in New York; indeed, a more complete picture than I had even bothered to assemble on my own, which was sobering.

Is this repetition intentional?

... oops. That comes of trying to glom together two versions of the same scene written at different times....

She referred to him as Molloy earlier, as well as later.  Actually, she seems to go back and forth seemingly at random.

Hmm, that's something to also think about. What I know is that she addresses Simon in her own head as 'Molloy', but if she's trying to be nice she has to remind herself that he should be called by first name. The latter really doesn't feel as natural to her, though, not for addressing someone she doesn't know intimately.

I'm not sure if that bit of ambivalence should play out in the way it's done here -- but however her choice of what name to use when is changed, that's the logic it should conform to....

And anyhow, besides that there are a few other things I'm concerned with:

• Powell looking up the genie in the Gray Book needs a lot more lampshading. I rush through it without addressing some incredibly obvious questions -- what is the Gray Book? How does Powell look up a genie in it, if the genie's appearance was largely just invented today for Simon's benefit? &c
• Powell's arrogance when she 'shadow clones' the notebook needs a bit of fine-tuning. Also, a key component of the magic I didn't put in was getting permission from the genie. ("Could I impose on you for just a second?") A major problem is that the magic doesn't seem at all flashy or impressive to Simon, nor even to Powell (even though it's an on-the-spot adaptation of a half-finished version of a more complex spell she's in the process of inventing, this version doesn't really depend on any controversial or unexpected principles). Basically, the genie projects herself as a visible human body, since that's useful for interacting with the world, but she could just as easily be coaxed to project herself as another notebook in addition to that.
• Actually, the whole 'greatest/best magician in North America' epithet is brought up kind of awkwardly in this section, even though that is what Powell at least strives to be. I may or may not have to postpone actually exploring that for further stories entirely.
• Another iteration on the descriptions of Powell's warehouse. I need to think through a few other parts besides the safety decals with similar rigor, I think.
• A better grasp on how much time all this is taking. I do know Powell tries to rush it along out of consideration for Simon, but it has to be early enough at the end of the scene that going immediately to talk to Guard would not be an insane proposition.
• The interaction between Simon and the genie needs to be expanded just a bit -- e.g. them saying goodbye before Powell sends Simon off to dinner (which she should do a bit less abruptly, perhaps). The interactions I have right now are a bit place-holdery.
• Really, I get the feeling that with all the repetition of certain insistences from Powell, the current version could be compressed a bit. This alone would go quite a way towards making the wild-goose-chase element less irritating.
• Finally (a question) I have an unpleasant feeling Powell speaks in a slightly different fashion during the interrogation scene than during the other scenes. This would just be due to it being one of the earliest scenes I wrote with her, but if that's the case I need to decide how much of that voice to keep (and bring the rest of her dialogue in line with) and how much to just update?

[Arakawa]

Oh, and to add about the interrogation scene: while it's true that the characters don't accomplish much in it, it does showcase or underscore a lot of things about both these characters -- Simon's sense of social isolation, his somewhat thoughtless decision to take the job (which Powell finds ridiculous), Powell's approach to these kinds of situations. And this is also the first time Powell explicitly brings up the government and why Simon wouldn't be able to trust them on this.

So, in terms of rewriting it, I should probably focus on having it get down sooner to revealing these kinds of things, I guess?

[Muphrid]

Spoiler: ShowHide

To me, the idea that the notebook was deliberately lost always seemed a bit off, and the old man's reappearance seems to bear that out.  Maybe he realizes that Simon has the genie when he talks to him, or maybe he doesn't, but he seems frantic enough before he runs into Simon.  This makes Powell's estimations and guesses seem a bit boring because we know she's a ways off from the truth.  This also makes the interview scene at Powell's desk seem a bit dry, too, because it ends up with her not really finding much of anything.  The scene does not, in itself, seem to progress anything.

Hmm. Handling this well requires a lot of thought. Basically, prudence doesn't really allow Powell to assume the best about the notebook, so she prefers to act on the best guess she has, even if it's a bit of a wild goose chase, rather than to let Simon alone.

This does, in my opinion, reveal a lot more about her character than anything else she does. She's willing to take drastic action that she decides on the turn of a dime, with a low probability of results, in spite of the huge inconvenience it causes to Simon, simply because it has a better chance of unearthing information or catching someone off balance than if she did nothing or referred him to the government.

In point of fact, she guesses correctly that there is a plan going on, though not what the plan is, nor that Simon is only included in it due to an actual accident. (From what I understand, she also has her probability magic running, and is somewhat alarmed due to the fact that Simon's appearance was triggered by no less than three separate templates for events she wanted to occur -- and she can't really figure out why; but she isn't actually able to cite that as a reason.)

It could be that I'm predisposed to look at Powell's efforts as trying to figure out what's going on more than her being cautious against what might be going on. The two are fairly intertwined--she wants to do both--but on their face things don't seem as bad as Powell suspects they might be.  So maybe the disconnect is that the audience doesn't have that same sense of dread and foreboding that Powell does.  So far, the genie's efforts have turned out to be innocuous.  Maybe what we need to see is a vindication of Powell's caution, something that shows us that the genie is indeed booby-trapped in some life-threatening manner.

She referred to him as Molloy earlier, as well as later.  Actually, she seems to go back and forth seemingly at random.

Hmm, that's something to also think about. What I know is that she addresses Simon in her own head as 'Molloy', but if she's trying to be nice she has to remind herself that he should be called by first name. The latter really doesn't feel as natural to her, though, not for addressing someone she doesn't know intimately.

I'm not sure if that bit of ambivalence should play out in the way it's done here -- but however her choice of what name to use when is changed, that's the logic it should conform to....

I think you might just make a moment where Powell is clearly and deliberately calling him by first name--i.e. she catches herself saying Molloy and then decides to call him Simon partway through, for instance.

And anyhow, besides that there are a few other things I'm concerned with:

• Powell looking up the genie in the Gray Book needs a lot more lampshading. I rush through it without addressing some incredibly obvious questions -- what is the Gray Book? How does Powell look up a genie in it, if the genie's appearance was largely just invented today for Simon's benefit? &c
• Powell's arrogance when she 'shadow clones' the notebook needs a bit of fine-tuning. Also, a key component of the magic I didn't put in was getting permission from the genie. ("Could I impose on you for just a second?") A major problem is that the magic doesn't seem at all flashy or impressive to Simon, nor even to Powell (even though it's an on-the-spot adaptation of a half-finished version of a more complex spell she's in the process of inventing, this version doesn't really depend on any controversial or unexpected principles). Basically, the genie projects herself as a visible human body, since that's useful for interacting with the world, but she could just as easily be coaxed to project herself as another notebook in addition to that.
• Actually, the whole 'greatest/best magician in North America' epithet is brought up kind of awkwardly in this section, even though that is what Powell at least strives to be. I may or may not have to postpone actually exploring that for further stories entirely.
• Another iteration on the descriptions of Powell's warehouse. I need to think through a few other parts besides the safety decals with similar rigor, I think.
• A better grasp on how much time all this is taking. I do know Powell tries to rush it along out of consideration for Simon, but it has to be early enough at the end of the scene that going immediately to talk to Guard would not be an insane proposition.
• The interaction between Simon and the genie needs to be expanded just a bit -- e.g. them saying goodbye before Powell sends Simon off to dinner (which she should do a bit less abruptly, perhaps). The interactions I have right now are a bit place-holdery.
• Really, I get the feeling that with all the repetition of certain insistences from Powell, the current version could be compressed a bit. This alone would go quite a way towards making the wild-goose-chase element less irritating.
• Finally (a question) I have an unpleasant feeling Powell speaks in a slightly different fashion during the interrogation scene than during the other scenes. This would just be due to it being one of the earliest scenes I wrote with her, but if that's the case I need to decide how much of that voice to keep (and bring the rest of her dialogue in line with) and how much to just update?

It doesn't bother me that the Gray Book is unexplained.

I got a pretty healthy image of the warehouse, Powell's desk, stuff hanging from the ceiling.  I liked that part of that scene, even though I was concerned that what happened there was a little slow (which, again, may just be because we've discussed it enough I already knew the gist of what Powell would say).

I didn't notice Powell's voice being very very different from the rest of the piece.

[Arakawa]

In the process of getting the last section I posted back on the rails. For now, here's just the scene with Forbis again:

http://pastebin.com/gNUQ6Xr4

I decided to write it with a bit more nuance (especially in terms of Powell's attitude), but preserving the same general uncivil feel in terms of how it plays out. Let's see if that works better.

I think the reason it felt wrong to me before wasn't so much the scene itself, but how well it was meshing with what came after. The fact that Simon has seen a significantly nastier side of Powell here will probably have to be factored into the reasoning for his subsequent decision to trust her anyway.

[Arakawa]

Wild (rest of) Chapter 1 appears. And when I say wild, I mean extremely wild, as in very rough, except the parts I've already done revision on. (Really, it's Part I of the story, not Chapter 1; 37,000 words in a chapter has got to be some kind of mockery.)

Take this more as a preview of stuff until I have more time to do revision. In practice, I find to polish a scene I have to write it off-the-cuff (this version), then redo it as a script-fic (mercifully not shown), then turn the script-fic back into real narration. Chapter 1a and the early parts of 1b with Mr. Desmond got the full extent of that treatment, while the rest... not so much; and I'm pretty sure it shows most places.

Also would appreciate comments on the font I use to denote 'vision' scenes -- which covers most of the scenes where the narration goes omniscient. So far the end of Chapter 1d is the only example of this.

I'm just posting all the files in one pile for now (1d is totally new; 1c is rewritten, but still a stab in the dark; the rest are revised but mostly the same); will update thread more properly when I have more time...

[Muphrid]

I took a look at chapter-01c and diffed it against the previous version.  I see a bit of rearrangement and changes in word choice, but nothing really big jumped out at me. Is there a specific aspect of that installment (or the others) that you would like looked at?


At any rate, here are some comments on 01d.

Plot and Structure

So we begin with a bit of a winding down from the last installment, as Powell prepares Simon to meet with the Greater Bolg.  Powell gives Simon the opportunity to ask several questions, and this seems like a natural avenue to deliver some exposition while also developing Simon via the actual questions he asks.  I'll touch on that in the next section, but I thought this was a nice touch to avoid the usual infomation dump because it comes about in the natural course of their conversation and in Simon's process of understanding.

The two of them soon arrive on the Upper West Side and are taken to see Guard.  So, Powell seemed a bit concerned about Guest, but we don't actually see Guest?  I guess we just heard him on the intercom and that was it.  There doesn't seem to be much necessary to convince Guard, so in some ways, I feel like this whole trip is more exposition about the world.

We wrap up with the Rosa Hernandez scene which has been discussed previously but is good to see again.  I must confess, I'm a bit confused about the notebook; is this the same notebook we have seen (and thus this takes place in the past) or is this another one that the old man has prepared?

Anyway, I feel like getting Simon this protection was merely a convenient reason to get more of the world expanded.  Well, since that's the way the story is, I suppose that's mission accomplished.

Characterization and Development

Let's start with Powell.  She answers Simon's questions for the most part, and since we're confined to Simon's POV, we can't really know much beyond what he perceives from her.  There are moments she effortlessly captures the true horror of government bureaucracy; there are moments where she stops the conversation, and for the most part, these latter moments she doesn't really deny that she's stopping or ending the conversation before it gets to uncomfortable territory.  So Powell is a reasonably up-front person, either directly or in admitting that she cannot or will not be direct.

It's curious that Powell gives Simon a way out as they're on the elevator.  As Simon points out, he has come this far already.  It is, I expect, only Powell's sense of due diligence that she offers this chance to step back.  It is rather considerate on her part.

Simon takes some time to get his motor running for questions, but his questions pertain as much to the general situation as they do to Powell specifically (personal experience, as well as how Powell could have lived through the '50s, and why Powell is a rogue).  It seems clear to me he has some level of interest in her personal details; she is every bit as mysterious as the world he's just learned about--indeed, she is probably more mysterious than that, and so it is reasonable that she holds his attention as much or more than what troubles him.  He is quickly trying to establish a connection with her, though he may not even realize he's doing it.  I see it as trying to find some kind of anchor in this new world.

Actually, I was surprised Simon didn't ask about the name Drake.

Guard comes off as appropriately dangerous as well as intelligent, which I'm sure is what you hoped to accomplish.

Style and Command

After Powell dashed back into the office for literally twenty seconds to fax some kind of notification that we were coming, we made our way through the complicated tangle of passageways around Penn Station in order to reach the subway station at the opposite end from where the Lost Property Unit was located.

I think this sentence would benefit from some splitting and cutting.  I don't have a specific recommendation, but there's a lot of information in this sentence that I think could benefit from the focus of being separated and split up.

"Actually..." she admitted, "exactly that. And with a genie, too, no less. In short, I'd be loath to use you as a guinea pig for testing whether the US Sovernment has improved in this matter over the past few decades."

Government.

We'd already arrived at 72nd Street by this point; and between the sheer number of questions I had, and Powell's longwinded way of answering them, I felt like I'd barely scratched the surface of what I needed to know about the situation, let alone what I wanted to know simply to sate my curiousity.

Curiosity.

Much of the harmony is enabled by the presence of the famous Ansonia building, a an architectural project [...]

An.

[...] The Ansonia has been known to accomodate all sorts of people [...]

Accommodate.

The desultory crackling at the other end of the line indicated that the person on the other end considered themselves far too important to actually say something when they picked up a phone.

Repetition.

"This is all a stupid mind game I'd prefer not to involve you in, but I suppose it's an inevitable cliche, like triplicate forms in a human bureaucracy. We could just barge in their frunt door, but Guest would take serious offence to that... and you need to be out of breath when you walk in, or he'll catch on that we took the elevator. And Guest is Guard's right hand advisor, so even if Guard is fine with something, annoying Guest is still not a good policy. Stupid troll politics."

Front.

"So, how did you find the Bolg?" Powell asked me with genuine curiousity sparking in her eyes.

Curiosity.

"This particular one refers to the fact that the Greater Bolg repeatedly injure each other for the sake of physical training. Greater Bolg heal stronger and more resilient afterwards. Lesser Bolg, that is to say humans, generally don't. Not after what a goblin would consider a mild beating, anyways. And we resemble very young goblins, so we trigger a parental urge to throw us against the nearest hard surface. To harden us up a bit. Which, in the world of the goblins," Powell sighed, "is good parenting policy. The rhyme serves as a warning that doing that kind of thing to Lesser Bolg is not the best idea. And lately, it's taken on an additional meaning of refering to a general sense of culture shock."

Referring.

"Well, officially you are a member of the West Side G's now, but all that means is that you can use the sign and you shouldn't interfere with Guard's political machinations... too obviously, at least. There's really nothing they can demand of a kiwum. Now, if you were not a member, that means you wouldn't be able to use the handsign to invoke their protection, which might be necessary in a sticky situation. If a non-member tries to use it with the same intention, well, the unauthorized and fraudulent use would be magically detected and instead you'd have goblins from the 'G's showing up to challenge you on the unauthorized use of their sign; there's bylaws against that kind of thing. But beyond that, don't read into it too much. It really is exactly like giving you an ID card."

Do you feel it better to go with "there is" vs. "there are" in this case?

[...] Then, instead of the standad way of forming it, this is the one I found that shifts the emphasis of the meaning more onto 'proper', [...]

How did that happen? Perhaps there was a dim spark of something in Mr. Hernández that was far, far more ancient than the bureaucrats and policemen below; who knew whether it came from some long-forgotten lineage of grim Mesoamerican priests, who felt it their prerogative to ritually slay and and all given into their charge, a strange and horrible sacrifice they thought necessary for the greater good of all, to placate the ravening gods of the abyss? Or, worse, from some mythical philandering conquistador, invincible and implacable, utterly convinced that he could do whatever atrocity was right in his own eyes? Neither was a thing they had prepared themselves to encounter, just suddenly there, in a bad part of town where the men are in general far more straightforward and ordinary than in the good parts.

Repetition here.

For, afterwards, the children's files somehow became fortuitiously misplaced (it is probable that not even God cares to inquire in any detail how these bureaucracies are really organized); the subsequent social workers took up the cause with resignation and not zeal, considering the matter as a situation already settled; and inquiries requiring the status of the children from all manner of authorities mysteriously vanished and did not connect to any enforcement mechanism. No one, assuming they even bothered to wonder about the situation, could quite explain how this happened.

Fortuitously.


In general: Simon as a narrator remains rather circuitous and wordy.  I pointed out one sentence that I noticed; there were some others that I debated pointing out in particular, but I think what is needed is a more large-scale approach.  This style is definitely characteristic of Simon, so I'm not suggesting any systematic revamping.  I think only that some excessively long sentences could be broken up.  It's recently been pointed out to me that the art of constructing sentences and stringing them together in paragraphs is something that authors of our sophistication can easily neglect.  It's really easy to develop bad habits of word choice, to chain prepositional phrases together willy-nilly, or otherwise get lax about something we feel we have sufficient mastery over.

I admit, though, that as long as I find something reasonably readable, I seldom pay close attention to these things.

Again, it's characteristic of Simon's narration to explore things in great detail and to occasionally digress.  I don't want to see that changed.  I do think, however, that there can be a danger of all these disparate ideas being slammed together in a way that makes things hard to keep track of and distinct.


Misc

The whole paragraph about Homles concluding that magic exists from Powell's shirt is really great.

"DO NOT EVEN THINK THAT WORD HERE!" Guard bellowed at what I hoped... to... God... was near the top of her voice already! I was getting a fairly clear idea of just why opera-grade soundproofing was a great thing to have in a troll's apartment.

That's also really great.

"Oh, yes, and Simon," she began to instruct me, still on our way to the door, "Guard may be addressed directly by name, or formally as 'your humongous obesity'. That second usage is best saved for when you need to improve her mood, as she finds it amusing for some damn reason. Hopefully you will never need to actually use that bit of knowledge."

Is it not typical to capitalize such titles, like "Your Humongous Obesity"?


Is it intentional that there is no actual text on the television?  It looks like there's initailly just an ellipsis or a dash?

[Arakawa]

Will respond to Muphrid's feedback a bit later, but for now, I've been trying to figure out some kind of synopsis or blurb for the story. Here's my initial stab at it....

Pop quiz: What role, exactly, did institutional use of genies have to play in the unprecedented expansion of bureaucracy in the United States of America throughout the 20th century?

The last American census counted approximately eight million ordinary humans, five million goblins, and fifty thousand bloodline mages living within the boundaries of New York City; this is not to forget the even stranger magical beings whose populations, for one reason or another, cannot be made subject to rigorous statistical analysis.

Of these more-than-thirteen-million sentient beings, a large proportion opts to use the New York City Subway for their daily commute, often while carrying magical artefacts of varying potency and danger. Inevitably, a fraction of said artefacts are dropped, misplaced, or otherwise lost, thereby saddling the New York Metropolitan Transit Authority's Lost Property Unit with a massive headache. Lost artefacts must be identified; they must be catalogued; fraudulent and genuine claimants must be distinguished; the lost items must, finally, be stored together in an underground warehouse near Penn Station, preferably *without* causing a massive eruption of uncontrolled magic across half of Midtown. To handle these kinds of issues, the MTA bureaucracy has prudently chosen to employ an expert magician.

Despite her unassuming exterior, Drake Powell – self-alleged 'best magician in North America', disgruntled graduate of Princeton University, probable immortal in the Taoist sense (long story) and only barely *not* a chain-smoker – is something of a loose cannon: manipulative, practically impervious to oversight, and insisting on a scandalous amount of leeway in how she manages things. But she has very good reasons for wanting to keep things secret from her superiors.

Such as, for instance, when Simon Molloy, a seventeen-year-old intern at the high-frequency stock trading company Frost & Prentice (also a long story), finds an ordinary-looking notebook on the subway. When he goes to turn it in as a lost artefact, it turns out to contain a genie. This discovery is almost certainly too good to be true – and so Powell is forced to guide Simon through the ensuing nightmare of a situation that winds up involving bureaucracy, human-goblin race relations, the Department of Homeland Security, mind control, more bureaucracy, avaricious wizards rigging the stock market, Christmas Elves engaged in corporate espionage, the World Trade Center bombings, and an angry ghost with delusions of being an Old Testament prophet....

I'm not happy with the 'list of crazy stuff that happens' at the end, but so far this is my best shot. A bit long for a blurb, but then again I don't have to post this on ff.net or anything :-P

[Muphrid]

This makes very clear the overall attitude the piece has toward magic and its existence, which I like, and it properly emphasizes Simon and Powell over the old man.  I wonder if starting with background may not have enough grab, though.  My instincts say start with Simon and him finding the notebook, and use the genie as a hook to introduce the world.  Overall, though, I think this is pretty good.

It does seem a bit long for a blurb, though.

[Arakawa]

This makes very clear the overall attitude the piece has toward magic and its existence, which I like, and it properly emphasizes Simon and Powell over the old man.  I wonder if starting with background may not have enough grab, though.

Okay. It seems like something that will work better if you present it as the first story of a series, than for a standalone fic. Then the brunt of the introduction would describe things that recur in the series: an overall impression of the world they live in -- then the Lost Property Office and how it's likely to get involved with all kinds of strange artefacts -- then Powell (the person in charge of it) -- then Simon, her apprentice for the series duration. The circumstances that happen to bring them together are kind of an afterthought when viewed from this 20,000foot level.

Standalone, then, it's not as good; passable. I don't think the length is a problem in itself -- it's ludicrously long by ff.net standards, but seems about right for a website.

[Arakawa]

I took a look at chapter-01c and diffed it against the previous version.  I see a bit of rearrangement and changes in word choice, but nothing really big jumped out at me. Is there a specific aspect of that installment (or the others) that you would like looked at?

Not really, I guess. I suppose after some more editing and when the entire fic is drafted I will try to corral a couple of people who haven't read it yet into reading it... we'll see how that goes.

... I thought this was a nice touch to avoid the usual infomation dump because it comes about in the natural course of their conversation and in Simon's process of understanding.

If you say so; it feels pretty close to an information dump to me, but it's a necessary evil.

Perhaps it helps a little that this is the order Simon would realistically start asking questions. (Without much rhyme or reason, since it's become obvious that things can be deceptively different from what you'd expect based on fairy tales and popular culture.)

Perhaps it helps that Powell is a bit more emotionally engaged than in the typical expository dump, given how much of it keeps bumping into unpleasant things in her past.

So, Powell seemed a bit concerned about Guest, but we don't actually see Guest?

This will probably be amusing in retrospect if I ever get that far.

There doesn't seem to be much necessary to convince Guard, so in some ways, I feel like this whole trip is more exposition about the world.

...

Anyway, I feel like getting Simon this protection was merely a convenient reason to get more of the world expanded.  Well, since that's the way the story is, I suppose that's mission accomplished.

Perhaps, though it does set up for another Bolg appearance in the next chapter, which would otherwise be far too random and disorienting.

We wrap up with the Rosa Hernandez scene which has been discussed previously but is good to see again.  I must confess, I'm a bit confused about the notebook; is this the same notebook we have seen (and thus this takes place in the past) or is this another one that the old man has prepared?

This is a different notebook; the scene would be happening about the same time Simon was getting home. I made the notebooks are different colours, but that's really too much of an unnoticeable detail. Hmm. I wonder if there's some way to make it clearer....

Characterization and Development

...

Simon takes some time to get his motor running for questions, but his questions pertain as much to the general situation as they do to Powell specifically (personal experience, as well as how Powell could have lived through the '50s, and why Powell is a rogue). ... He is quickly trying to establish a connection with her, though he may not even realize he's doing it.  I see it as trying to find some kind of anchor in this new world.

I suppose that works. Since Powell will broach the topic of apprenticeship at the end of the story, i.e. in less than 48 hours from this point, it makes sense to build up as much unconscious rapport for them as possible. Even if it may not be well-justified at this point, or not for a reason either of them could articulate.

Actually, I was surprised Simon didn't ask about the name Drake.

Since, through no fault of Powell's or her parents, 'Drake' in the 21st century is the kind of name a whiny pop star would use, that type of question would just be awkward.

:-P

... yeah. But, for all kinds of reasons 'Drake Powell' fits so well that the surface pretentiousness might be endured.

Guard comes off as appropriately dangerous as well as intelligent, which I'm sure is what you hoped to accomplish.

That's all right, then. Guard is a character I have a very poor read on which... I think is part of her character? Politically it makes sense that she would have a well-practiced habit of keeping everyone off balance, so that no one would know quite what to make of her. Even Powell doesn't, really, though she's perceptive enough to understand that Guard is very good at concealing her angle in a situation. I get the sense 'Your Humongous Obesity' was some kind of attempt by Powell early on (while Guard was manipulating her into joining the family) to see (out of sheer frustration) if she could get under the troll's skin to see some genuine emotion, but Guard just rolled with it.

In short, Guard may just be a bit of a troll. She doesn't have much of an angle here, though; she keeps her lieutenants or maunar (Powell and Guest technically numbering among these, though Powell is not really involved in the actual business of governing) on very long leashes, which can sometimes backfire, but the upshot is that if Powell sees fit to use the West Side Gs' authority to investigate something, Guard has no objection to that.

Actually, the thought that Guard can out-manipulate Powell is kind of frightening. Or would be, if the troll wasn't so easy to satisfy.

The whole autonomous Bolg government thing is also weird to have, in a place as controlling as the United States. But it is something the human government tolerates, because the alternative would involve either having the Bolg try to challenge the humans for territory, or allowing the Bolg to vote in human elections. Both of these were reckoned as horrendously bad ideas. The way it's set up instead is that the governments have this weird mutual recognition agreement, even though the Bolg side of things barely is a government by human standards; a 'division' of Bolg is merely the fattest troll of the bunch, who cobbles together a coalition of maunar and then uses them to push everyone around on a small slice of territory into obeying what she says. Or, as Guard puts it, a "family establishment".

Style and Command
...

All right; thank you for going through the style in such detail. I will follow all the advice here, I think :-P

Is it intentional that there is no actual text on the television?  It looks like there's initailly just an ellipsis or a dash?

I am still debating between a number of books for her to be reading, so the space is only temporarily empty. Probably The English in the West Indies: Or, The Bow of Ulysses or something similarly jarring (if the reader bothers to look it up).