Original subtitles

There are two ways you can introduce a

character. They can be static

or they can be on the move. Um, and it

can be really fun if you want to meet

somebody, if you want to encounter

somebody, if you're bringing on a

character to just throw them into an

unfamiliar setting.

um to make the reader do a lot of the

work, but by the same token,

you're making people immediately have to

figure out what's going on. Um

here we go. This is this is a book

called Trigger Warning, and it contains

in it a short story that I wrote.

um a sort of a a set of 12

short stories uh called a calendar of

tales. Here's the October tale. And I'll

go through the whole thing cuz it's

fairly short and it does a whole bunch

of stuff with character and then I'll

tell you what I did and I'll tell you

why I did it. That feels good, I said,

and I stretched my neck to get out the

last of the cramp.

It didn't just feel good, it felt great,

actually. I'd been squashed up inside

that lamp for so long. You start to

think that nobody's ever going to rub it

again.

You're a genie, said the young lady with

the polishing cloth in her hand. I am.

You're a smart girl, Tootsz. What gave

me away? The appearing in a puff of

smoke, she said. And you look like a

genie. You've got the turban and the

pointy shoes.

I folded my arms and blinked. Now I was

wearing blue jeans, gray sneakers, and a

faded gray sweater, the male uniform of

this time in this place. I raised a hand

to my forehead, and I bowed deeply. I am

the genie of the lamp, I told her.

Rejoice, oh fortunate one. I have it in

my power to grant you three wishes. And

don't try the I wish for more wishes

thing. I won't play and you'll lose a

wish. Right, go for it. I folded my arms

again. "No," she said. "I mean, thanks

and all that, but it's fine. I'm good."

"Honey," I said. "Toots, sweetie,

perhaps you misheard me. I'm a genie and

the three wishes. We're talking anything

you want. You ever dreamed of flying? I

can give you wings. You want to be

wealthy, richer than Cus? You want

power? Just say it. Three wishes,

whatever you want." Like I said, she

said, "Thanks. I'm fine. Would you like

something to drink? You must be parched

after spending so much time in that

lamp. Wine, water, tea. Uh, actually,

now she came to mention it. I was

thirsty. Do you have any mint tea? She

made me some mint tea in a teapot that

was almost a twin to the lamp in which

I'd spent the greater part of the last

thousand years.

Thank you for the tea. No problem.

But I don't get it. Everyone I've ever

met, they start asking for things. A

fancy house, a herm of gorgeous women.

Not that you'd want that, of course. I

might, she said. You can't just make

assumptions about people. Oh, and don't

call me Tots or sweetie or any of those

things. My name's Hazel. Ah, I

understood. You want a beautiful woman,

then? My apologies. You have but to

wish. I folded my arms. No, she said.

I'm good. No wishes. How's the tea?

I told her that the mint tea was the

finest I had ever tasted. She asked me

when I had started feeling a need to

grant people's wishes and whether I felt

a desperate need to please. She asked

about my mother and I told her that she

could not judge me as she would judge

mortals for I was a jin powerful and

wise, magical and mysterious.

She asked me if I liked hummus. And when

I said that I did, she toasted a pter

bread and sliced it up for me to dip

into the hummus.

I dipped my bread slices into the hummus

and ate it with delight.

The hummus gave me an idea.

Just make a wish, I said helpfully. And

I could have a meal fit for a sultan

brought into you. Each dish would be

finer than the one before and all served

upon golden plates, and you could keep

the plates afterwards. It's good," she

said with a smile. "Would you like to go

for a walk?"

We walked together through the town. It

felt good to stretch my legs after so

many years in the lamp. We wound up in a

public park, sitting on a bench by a

lake. It was warm but gusty, and the

autumn leaves fell in flurries each time

the wind blew.

I told Hazel about my youth as a jin, of

how we used to eavesdrop on the angels

and how they would throw comets at us if

they spied us listening. I told her of

the bad days of the Jin wars and how

King Sullyan had imprisoned us inside

hollow objects, bottles, lamps, clay

pots, that kind of thing. She told me of

her parents who were both killed in the

same plane crash and who had left her

the house. She told me of her job

illustrating children's books, a job she

had backed into accidentally at the

point she realized she would never be a

really competent medical illustrator,

and of how happy she became whenever she

was sent a new book to illustrate. She

told me she taught life drawing to

adults at the local community college

one evening a week. I saw no obvious

flaw in her life, no hole that she could

fill by wishing, save one.

Your life is good, I told her. But you

have no one to share it with. Wish and I

will bring you the perfect man or or

woman, a film star, a rich person. No

need. I'm good, she said. We walked back

to her house, past houses dressed for

Halloween. This is not right, I told

her. People always want things. Not me.

I've got everything I need.

Then what do I do?

She thought for a moment. Then she

pointed at her front yard. Can you rake

the leaves?

Is that your wish? Nope. Just something

you could do while I'm getting our

dinner ready.

I rad the leaves into a heap by the

hedge to stop the wind from blowing it

apart. After dinner, I washed up the

dishes. I spent the night in Hazel's

spare bedroom.

It wasn't that she didn't want help. She

let me help. I ran errands for her,

picked up art supplies and groceries. On

days she had been painting for a long

time. She let me rub her neck and

shoulders. I have good, firm hands.

Shortly before Thanksgiving, I moved out

of the spare bedroom across the hall

into the main bedroom and Hazel's bed. I

watched her face this morning as she

slept. I stared at the shapes her lips

make when she sleeps. The creeping

sunlight touched her face and she opened

her eyes and stared at me and she

smiled. "You know what? I never asked,"

she said. "Is what about you? What would

you wish for if I asked what your three

wishes were?"

I thought for a moment. I put my arm

around her and she snuggled her head

into my shoulder. "It's okay," I told

her. "I'm good."

So, we only have two people in that

story. We have the genie, who never gets

a name, and we have Hazel, who doesn't

get a name until about halfway through

the story.

What's fun with this

is we start

literally with a bang. We start with a

this feels good and him stretching his

neck. That's a very human moment. We

don't know who our narrator is.

But he's stretching his neck to get out

the cramp.

And then he says, "It didn't just feel

good. It felt great. I've been squashed

up inside that lamp for so long. You

start to think that nobody's ever going

to rub it again. And the next line, of

course, which lands lands that idea for

anybody who's going, "Hang on, this is

is you're a genie," said the young lady

with the polishing cloth in her hand.

Now we have two characters.

We don't know anything about them other

than one is a genie and one is the young

lady who was just set him free.

His reply is I am you're a smart girl

tootss. What gave me away?

And you're going that Tootsz is kind of

a bit of a weird little put down. He's

um and it's also a very odd thing for a

genie to say.

So,

he's patronizing.

He's uh of another time and hasn't quite

got up to date with with the language.

And he feels like a genie

in my mind, although obviously he's

probably been in that lamp um for, let's

say, he's been, you know, imprisoned in

there for many thousands of years.

I suspect that probably the last time he

came out

and did wishes was probably the 1940s.

1930s or 40s. So he's uh he he's a mass

of 1930s and 40s attitudes. And that

that little tootss which is just so

completely not of its time and not of

its place kind of tells you that

her reply is the appearing in a puff of

smoke. She said and you look like a

genie. You've got the turban and the

pointy shoes and we already know that

she is practical and sensible.

And it's she gives the absolutely

practical sensible reply. He transforms

himself.

He does a full speech. He gets very

formal and does the I am the genie of

the lamp. Rejoice, oh fortunate one. I

have it in my power to grant you three

wishes. And then

undercuts it somewhat with his little

speech about don't don't do the I wish

for more wishes thing, but it's right.

Go. And she says, "No, I mean thanks and

all that, but it's fine. I'm good." And

now we suddenly have a plot. We don't

just have two characters

because we have something that we've

never seen before. We have a genie

who is prepared to grant somebody three

wishes and somebody saying,

"I'm good. It's okay." And that for me

was the

that was the the the little bit of grit

that I tried to build a small pearl

around. What happens if a genie shows up

and tries to grant three wishes to

somebody who's just fine? They're okay.

I don't and I'm like I don't ever

remember seeing that ever as a scenario

as a genie scenario. That's there are

lots and lots of genie stories. Most of

them you kind of feel have been done but

that one

hasn't been done. So that might be

really fun to do.

And now they start to become people.

And you get to watch them bump into each

other. You get to watch her put him in

his place, puncture his preconceptions.

Um, you know, when when he says a herm

of gorgeous women, not that you'd want

that, of course. And she says, "I might.

You can't just make assumptions about

people." Oh, and don't call me Tots or

sweetie or any of those things. My name

is Hazel. And you feel like right, she's

just very gently and very kindly put him

in his place and he is going to have

things to learn through the story.

Long ago, I read an essay by Robert

Heinline

where he said that there were basically

three stories. He said there was the

little tor. Somebody starts off poor and

gets rich and famous and important.

There was boy meets girl with all of the

things that can go wrong in that. Boy

can lose girl, boy can gain girl, boy

all of the the romance stories said and

there's a man learns a lesson

and the story in which somebody gets to

learn better, somebody gets to change

their mind, somebody gets to see the

world differently.

um is a beautiful shape for a story and

it's the one that isn't done I think

enough and is one that I always like

to fall back on. The joy of this story

is now

even if you don't know it and even if it

is I guess very simplistically and very

simply a boy meets girl story. It's

absolutely a story about somebody

learning a lesson.

And

from there,

his attempts to try and get her to make

a wish, you get to see, okay, she is

actually content. Now, we have two

people and one of them is completely in

her element and the other is absolutely

out of his element. Okay, he's not going

to grant three wishes and return to the

lamp. Well, what's he going to do?

And the idea of just putting him in the

mundanest possible situation

actually at that point you're making the

mundane

feel exotic and magical by his presence

and you're making him feel a lot more

interesting because he is a fish out of

water. A a wish-granting genie in an

Arabian Nights world

um is just one more piece of set

decoration. A wish-ranting genie with no

wishes to grant wandering around a small

American town shortly before Halloween

um is an odd thing that doesn't quite

resolve. It's like a little musical

passage that you need to keep reading

because you want to know how this is

going to end. Where does this end? And

of course, it ends with him moving in

with her with him eventually moving in

as we we know the one thing that she is

missing is somebody to love. And now he

is becoming that person without actually

granting her a wish.

And you also realize that

this person who we met at the beginning

who was kind of full of himself,

full of attitude,

very conscious of his status, but kind

of insecure has also changed when we get

right to the end when she says, "You

know what I never asked?" She says, "Is

what about you? What would you wish for

if I asked what your three wishes were?"

I thought for a moment. I put my arm

around her and she snuggled her head

into my shoulder. It's okay, I told her.

I'm good. And that's the moment that you

realize that the genie's changed, too.