dude if you think about it we’re already astronauts. earth is in space. we’re in space. dude
does anyone else just
The thing about the town is that everyone has a novel in their back pocket.
Leonard fucking hates when he goes out on a date, meets a friend of a friend, goes to pick his daughter up from kindergarten and they immediately start talking to him about their story. He doesn’t fucking care about their story.
He almost hates it as much as when his boss, Chris Pike, makes him babysit the interns.
"Jesus, Chris, their just babies. What do you want me to do, give them a manuscript and left them color on it?"
Pike raises an eyebrow at him from across his desk. “If I remember correctly that’s exactly what you had Joanna do during bring your kid to work day.”
Leonard grins at him. “It was a shit manuscript anyway.”
Chris hands him an application and resume. He groans. If he has to read another cover letter about how the kid was an NYU creative writing major who desperately wanted to write novels just like Enterprise Books published he was going to quit.
"James T. Kirk. George Kirk’s kid?" He asked and flipped a page to skim the resume. Not an NYU student then.
"Yep." Pike says and pulls a manuscript, thicker than his father’s old dictionary sitting on a shelf behind his own desk, toward him.
"And?" Leonard waits for more information.
"And nothing. Looks like a good recruit. Like you to train him."
"Wait, you hired him already?"
"Yeah, he’s on the Bridge."
Pike flips open the manuscript and props up his elbow as he settles in to read.
Leonard rubs at his temple and tries to remember that he does this for the writing, the feeling of coming across a good manuscript, raw and open for suggestion. He does this for the finished product, of seeing the book hit the NYT best seller’s list. Not to oversee crap interns. Even if they happen to be George Kirk’s kid.