The Arcane Arts
From: Storer.Ellsbeth
To: Rawlins.T.M.
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: my thesis Proposal
Dear Professor,
Friday is great. Thank you so much for your hospitality. I promise to restrict my curiosity to just the contents of the Wentz volumes (and your fridge, closets, medicine cabinet, etc.).
Having pored through all of the Gorky material I could find online, I’m already feeling incredibly optimistic about the possibility of crafting a successful writ magic ritual (she wrote, cue dramatic irony).
Obviously, Gorky didn’t detail the actual steps, but I do feel as though I have a basic grasp of the core principles behind the actual mechanics of writ magic.
It seems to me the trickiest part is whether—in a technical sense—to treat the biological matter of the subject as a solid or a liquid.
Arcanus Mentis was unhelpfully written back when they thought that writ magic was the biological control of the “humours,” but given that the human body is approximately 60 percent water, it does seem possible the 17th-century arcanists stumbled upon a correct approach with incorrect logic.
I’m hoping Wentz will help me sort out my thoughts on this, and I think it’s possible I’ll have a successfully written ritual in the next week or so.
Of course, since actually performing the ritual would be illegal, perhaps it’s better to discuss whether or not it might be tested…
not in writing, personal email accounts or not.
I’d give you my cellphone number but seeing as I’ve already (a) explicitly flirted and (b) asked about your marital status, I feel like giving you my number here would be going past “charmingly forward” and landing squarely somewhere around “pathetic.” I think the best course of action is probably to see how far I get with the ritual on Friday and then talk in person.
As for my social life, there is a medical student who shares the same running route as me (well, he runs.
I listen to a podcast and trot arrhythmically while sweating through my T-shirt).
He seems nice enough, with very little to indicate that he’s planning on stealing my organs, and so I said yes to seeing a movie with him Saturday, but I can say with some authority that I do not think he will be a distraction to my scholarship.
I guess that leads into my answer to your next question, my apparently far-reaching curiosity.
I’m almost embarrassed to tell you how devoted I’ve been to arcane mechanicals my entire life.
I’ve loved the arcane since I was a kid.
It was the subject of the children’s books I asked for and then the not-so-childish books I read throughout high school, usually under my desk during home economics classes.
I think I might have mentioned this in an earlier email to you, but I got a copy of The Arcane and the Ordinary for my 16th birthday.
I was that type of kid. And I went to study at St. Andrews because I knew they had the best undergraduate program in runes and ancient mathematics (and yes, also because they filmed some of the exteriors of the Golden Seeker series at the castles there).
I walked into my Arcanus completely confident that I was taking the next step in my life’s clear path; I left the exam completely undone.
Transparently, it was an incredibly rough few months.
I was mourning the death of my little sister, who had been my best friend since she was born, and I was also mourning the career trajectory I had planned on for almost as long.
I believed my career in arcane mechanicals to be completely over.
I am an impatient person, as we’ve established, someone who relies on forward motion and accomplishment as a way to stave off feelings of boredom, inadequacy, doubt, fear.
At the same time I lost Bertie, I also lost what would have been my most effective way of dealing with the grief—namely, an ability to throw myself into my work.
And so I spent months lost and miserable—my mind spinning and gnawing at itself like a confused animal—unsure which of my impulses were productive and which were self-sabotage.
I apologize that this email became something of a diary entry as I struggled to answer your question appropriately.
I’ll ask you one in return (feel free to answer in person when I see you Friday): Was it ever enough?
When you were the wunderkind of the arcane world, the guest of honor at banquets; when your book went into its fifth, sixth, seventh printing—did you ever feel as though you made it?
From the outside, you’re the most successful and popular arcanist since Hewlitt Hudson; it certainly seems as though you’ve made it, as though you’ve reached a point of critical and commercial success such that no more satisfaction could possibly be asked for.
I’m actually realizing now as I write that my real question is a much simpler one: Are you happy?
Maybe the truth of my impatience is that I’m convinced when I amass a certain level of accomplishments, my answer will be yes, and I would rather reach that point as quickly as possible.
Thank you again for your generosity in allowing me access to your Wentz volumes and your home. I promise to treat both with respect and minimal BBQ / chocolate pudding / coffee / mustard stains.
See you tomorrow night,
Ellsbeth