You know, I got into a long rant there. I then realized I'm growing neither coherent nor satisfied with what I'm doing at 2AM, when I wrote this. I retain my opinion: his arguments are mostly crap - except that copyright one, which deserves discussion and exploration. He's a cranky old man with a case of "It's a long-time scar, so it must be bad". I don't want George Martin anywhere near my works, no matter how small or insignificant they are, because I don't want to hear that what I do as a writer is unimaginative. He can think whatever he wants, as long as he keeps it to himself. Exposed to air... some things corrode and rust over, and I don't like that smell. And fuck, man, I don't want to end up as cranky when I grow old. If I knew I would, I'd rather shoot myself right now, 'cause that would be a disgrace to a capable, creative mind.
It wasn't a good argument because I wasn't arguing. I tried to, back when I was doing the long one at 2 AM. That right there, and that back there at IRC, were rants. Then you started talking about fanfiction, saying you don't like it because it's not in your taste. I replied to you about what I think was wrong with that, in a concise manner. Then you told me I'm too hung-up on... something that I brought up in a wider context of old-school writers giving youth shit about things they do. You wanna talk about what I said about Sapkowski and Glukhovsky? Alright. Let's talk about it. But bring something on the matter to the table instead of rehashing tangential topics. I don't know the extent of madness, but mere glimpses terrify me. I've seen unfiltered, childish anger from a woman twice my age and self-centered arrogance of a man who thought I only ever needed money to grow up happy. I thought all my life I was in the wrong for thinking a bad thing about someone or something, because it was all inherently my fault. Not a day goes by when I don't question even the slightest happy thought while the sound of desperation echoes at the void inside of me that I work very, very hard filling every fucking day. And now you wonder why I'd rather shoot myself than become so closed off the world that I start actually talking shit?I would prefer to ask why I have turned out like this. By knowing the cause and extent of perceived damage you can start the mending process.
It's clear that we had a misunderstanding somewhere along the conversation. The fact that I can't point where is one of the reasons I don't want to go down that road. If you could point out, in a simple and straightforward language, what you think went wrong, I would greatly appreciate it. For what it's worth, I didn't mean to be a dick, in general or towards you in particular. I've been having crummy couple of days, after suddenly losing my edge, and it rattles me enough to cause online fights with decent people. I apologize for my behavior. Wish I could say I won't do it again, but I can't promise that at the moment.