Analysing the work of someone still living always runs the risk of “No, that’s not what I meant at all”
Page twenty. Not bad. Especially considering that she’d written it strictly for academia and not for the national newspapers. Her analysis of Hartnell’s greater literary works was getting a lot more notice than she had ever hoped for.
The phone rang. Of course she answered it.
“Hello,” said the voice on the other end, “are you the lady who wrote Hartnell, a Feminist Before Their Time?”
“Yes,” she blushed. A phone interview! Life was looking up.
“Mister Hartnell said to tell you you got almost all of it completely backwards.”
“What?”
“Mister Hartnell–”
“I heard you, I just… Mister Hartnell told you?”
“Yes, of course. I’m his secretary.”
Blush. “I… thought he’d passed on.”
“You and his agent,” said the secretary. “He’s reading it over and he says you’ll get a more in-depth rebuke when he finishes laughing.”
[Muse food remaining: 8 (fic war prompts: 0) Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]