Post by Todd on Feb 27, 2020 8:53:54 GMT -5
Admin note: Because some members have reported that they do not receive the emails from The Boundless Library, this is posted here for your convenience:
I'm so pleased to be able to speak again!
Happy Thursday, friend!
You must forgive my quiet over the past several weeks; I would say that things have become rather strange (and even dangerous here) but we’re quite past that at this point, aren’t we? It’s more accurate to say things have been stranger and more dangerous of late, and that has led to some… difficulties in reaching you.
You might recall the shushers that I mentioned? After our first few brushes with the creatures, they got bolder than ever and began confronting anyone who made even the slightest sound. It’s not like the Librarians are particularly raucous as they perform their duties, but the smallest noise was enough to set them off. I’m certainly the noisiest of all, not being as used to the Library’s peculiarities, and Molly said I’d made most of the Librarians chattier than usual as a result.
With the shushers on the loose, soon the whole library was in a state of anxious and terrible silence. We dropped first to whispers, and then to no words at all, and at the worst of it, even the tippity-tap of a keyboard was enough to summon that awful SHHHHHH. That dreadful noise immediately preceeded an unmentionably horrible event, and we did all we could to avoid setting them off further.
As so much of what we keep here is based on the Oral Tradition, this situation obviously couldn’t endure, and in the end it was the Librarian of Natural Sciences and the Librarian of Fairy Tale Studies who saved us all! The former put in ungodly hours on research, and came up with a plan that, while absurd and dangerous, did seem to make sense. The latter donned a protective suit, padded with all of the soundproofing we could find, and bravely entered their den. I am pleased to say that the Librarians and the unlikely weaponization of a vuvuzela triumphed, and we can all enjoy each other’s company once more. Pending no further infestations, I intend to be a much better correspondent.
Of course you’ll understand that this has put Borrowings on hold, but I’m expecting new recordings to arrive toward the end of March. I’ve actually got a recording of parts of the Great Shusher Hunt, and I may share that if I’m able to. Perhaps you can catch up or listen again to the Borrowings podcast in the interim. There are many secrets being revealed there!
In the meanwhile…
Something unexpected happened the other day, which probably doesn’t surprise you, given what I just described, but stay with me here for a bit. An aspect of our first story, A Feather in Dust, kind of manifested itself. I suppose I was expecting something to come about, I just wasn’t expecting anything quite so… cinematic. If you’d like to see it, you can click here or on this image
The pieces of this story are cohering now, quite quickly, and the time when I’ll have something, well, real to show you is closing in. I don’t mean for that to sound so ominous but, well, it is I suppose. The pieces are all coming together, but not at all in the way I expected. Nothing here has been what I expected, least of all this.
When you think of a story, I bet you think of a straight line, with predictable points along the way, like familiar stops along a well-trod path. That’s certainly how I pictured stories, journeys with beginnings and middles and ends — or perhaps a map, easy to follow and make sense of.
Here, a story might be whispers through a wall, and a bundle of papers pressed into your hands, and a small pile of unnerving objects to sift through. They have the feeling of evidence, or of treasures, or of terrible secrets, or maybe all three. They’re rougher around the edges, not confined to pages, and all the more dangerous for it.
Thank you, friend, for being someone who would want to participate in a story like this. It’ll be the first time in… quite possibly forever? that a story has made it out of the Library, and it’s a twisty and menacing quicksilver sort of thing. As much as it frightens me sometimes, I am so glad to have found it — and even moreso, so glad to be able to share it with you.
Best,
Alice
Apprentice (of sorts)
The Boundless Library
I'm so pleased to be able to speak again!
Happy Thursday, friend!
You must forgive my quiet over the past several weeks; I would say that things have become rather strange (and even dangerous here) but we’re quite past that at this point, aren’t we? It’s more accurate to say things have been stranger and more dangerous of late, and that has led to some… difficulties in reaching you.
You might recall the shushers that I mentioned? After our first few brushes with the creatures, they got bolder than ever and began confronting anyone who made even the slightest sound. It’s not like the Librarians are particularly raucous as they perform their duties, but the smallest noise was enough to set them off. I’m certainly the noisiest of all, not being as used to the Library’s peculiarities, and Molly said I’d made most of the Librarians chattier than usual as a result.
With the shushers on the loose, soon the whole library was in a state of anxious and terrible silence. We dropped first to whispers, and then to no words at all, and at the worst of it, even the tippity-tap of a keyboard was enough to summon that awful SHHHHHH. That dreadful noise immediately preceeded an unmentionably horrible event, and we did all we could to avoid setting them off further.
As so much of what we keep here is based on the Oral Tradition, this situation obviously couldn’t endure, and in the end it was the Librarian of Natural Sciences and the Librarian of Fairy Tale Studies who saved us all! The former put in ungodly hours on research, and came up with a plan that, while absurd and dangerous, did seem to make sense. The latter donned a protective suit, padded with all of the soundproofing we could find, and bravely entered their den. I am pleased to say that the Librarians and the unlikely weaponization of a vuvuzela triumphed, and we can all enjoy each other’s company once more. Pending no further infestations, I intend to be a much better correspondent.
Of course you’ll understand that this has put Borrowings on hold, but I’m expecting new recordings to arrive toward the end of March. I’ve actually got a recording of parts of the Great Shusher Hunt, and I may share that if I’m able to. Perhaps you can catch up or listen again to the Borrowings podcast in the interim. There are many secrets being revealed there!
In the meanwhile…
Something unexpected happened the other day, which probably doesn’t surprise you, given what I just described, but stay with me here for a bit. An aspect of our first story, A Feather in Dust, kind of manifested itself. I suppose I was expecting something to come about, I just wasn’t expecting anything quite so… cinematic. If you’d like to see it, you can click here or on this image
The pieces of this story are cohering now, quite quickly, and the time when I’ll have something, well, real to show you is closing in. I don’t mean for that to sound so ominous but, well, it is I suppose. The pieces are all coming together, but not at all in the way I expected. Nothing here has been what I expected, least of all this.
When you think of a story, I bet you think of a straight line, with predictable points along the way, like familiar stops along a well-trod path. That’s certainly how I pictured stories, journeys with beginnings and middles and ends — or perhaps a map, easy to follow and make sense of.
Here, a story might be whispers through a wall, and a bundle of papers pressed into your hands, and a small pile of unnerving objects to sift through. They have the feeling of evidence, or of treasures, or of terrible secrets, or maybe all three. They’re rougher around the edges, not confined to pages, and all the more dangerous for it.
Thank you, friend, for being someone who would want to participate in a story like this. It’ll be the first time in… quite possibly forever? that a story has made it out of the Library, and it’s a twisty and menacing quicksilver sort of thing. As much as it frightens me sometimes, I am so glad to have found it — and even moreso, so glad to be able to share it with you.
Best,
Alice
Apprentice (of sorts)
The Boundless Library