Some Discussions About Editorial Principles for InterNova

- Eh, Sven - Yeah? - Could you please stop this whistling all the time? It makes me nervous. - It's not my fault. Roberto Causo just sent me a link to a whole bunch of mp3 files. All Latin American music. Great stuff. - Please. You know, you're a nice guy. But there are days you start driving me on the shortest way into may early grave. - Ok, I'll stop. - Where have you been? You've been away for three hours. And how you look. All dust and stuff. - I was sorting out your short fiction library. - Oh, no. You shouldn't do this. - Calm down. It was a whole mess. You should show a little more gratitude. You sorted the anthologies with Indian stories right next to the ones with stories from Israel. - There are sorted alphabetically by country, you moron. - That's a fucked-up idea. Have you ever heard of a border between India and Israel? - Just let it be. It's my library. We have an open library for you and the other guys'n'gals. Mess around there if you like - Oh, not Guy again. It's starting to become an obsession. - Don't say what you're about to say. I warn you. - You know, people are starting to worry about you. I've just sorted out some books and sold them on Ebay. - You did what? - It's enough that you are a writer and editor twelve hours a day. But not 24. You don't like Kipling anyway. And Lovecraft is just crap. That's bad for your reputation as a serious editor. - I can't believe it. - Show a little balls, man. I like story collections too. But story collections don't have tits. - What's that supposed to mean? - It just means that you should get out a little. - I will. Vandana and Anil phoned yesterday and invited me to India for some weeks to study yoga. - Study yoga. Are you kidding me? - What's wrong about it? - Have you forgotten? Tabi has invited you to Cancun. That would be a great occasion to start an attack on some sexy Mexican girls. - Say, Sven. What was this stuff that you did smoke this morning? No menthol cigarettes, right? - Okay, okay. It's your life. - Did you do some serious work for InterNova today? - I did. Research for new writers. - And did you find some? - A whole lot. There's this guy living high up in the Himalaya. Some claim him to be a yeti. - Oh, not such shit again. Last week it was this fish man living on the sole of the Mariana Island trench. - He's a great writer. Aren't you satisfied with anything? I thought InterNova is a cross-cultural effort. - Cross-cultural surely. But not cross-species. - Yeah, really? May I remind you what you did with Gabi Behrend? Poor girl is almost an alien now thanks to your efforts. - Bullshit. Arno has just brought her home again. It wasn't that bad. - We'll see. - And I'm not nuts either. - Not? You know that you're talking in your sleep? All night long about your 'little sister'. Your angel of the heart. - Not the heart. The Hardt, you jerk. It's a small hill in Wuppertal where I use to go for a walk. She sells ice cream there, that's all. - You should know that dreams have a symbolic content. We all know what hills you are talking about. Just face it, man. - Let's change the subject before I kick you out. Some more writers? - Yeah. A Lybian writer living in Hannover and writing in Hindi. Or Malayalam. Or sometimes both in the same story. - Sounds interesting. Has he sent some stories? - He will. - When? - Depends on the psychiatric examination and when they let him out. - I don't believe it. You know, Sven, I think maybe researching for new writers is simply not your kind of thing. - Yeah, maybe. There's another task I would prefer. - What? - Sorting our your short fiction library, what else? Never had so much fun in my whole life. - Okay, keep on researching for new writers. - If you say so. - I say so. I'm the editor. Somebody must try to stay sane here, goddam. - May I go out for lunch now? - Go, but don't smoke. - Okay. - And don't drink either. - Oh shit. You know, sometimes you can be a real pain in the ass. - I know. You're back at 3:00. - I will. See you. - Lick my ass too, okay?