Imagine a home that looks just like
Dragonstone from Game of Thrones.
All around are viscous seals that will chase you up
the slippery stone stairs to the front door.
It never stops storming there.
This is where we held our interview, back in 1942.
Here is the recording:
The Historian: "I am an expert in her poetry
and I have read every line a
million and a half times."
"And you wrote the biography?"
H: "I wrote two."
Int: "You changed your handwriting to be like hers."
H: "Better to read her love letters
Int: "And you wrote letters
pretending to be her
writing to you..."
H: "It was research."
Int: "You talk about her to your friends
as if she was alive..."
H: "They know it is research."
Int: "You wrote two self insert romance novels
where you both run off
to an inaccurately idealized American South and you
H: "I needed money for research."
Int: "You burned her incriminating documents and
you sent hate mail to her other fans."
H: "They were going to steal
Int: "You talk to her when you think you're alone
and you smile so brightly."
H: "I just really