I'm going to have a fight with Superman

Chapter 361 The Goddess in the Attic
Los Angeles, Fox Television.

On the 15th floor, at the entrance of the recording room of "Midnight Entertainment Express", a middle-aged black man in a blue suit pulled a fat old man with a beard, and said gratefully: "George, it's really great to be able to come to my show this time." thank you so much."

George Martin smiled heartily, "Hanks, you are a popular Fox anchor. I should thank you for being on your show or as the main anchor."

"George, stop joking." The male anchor in the blue suit smiled bitterly, ""Game of Thrones" is popular all over the world, and you, the author of the original work, are also famous all over the world.

As long as you express your willingness, countless top talk shows and entertainment variety shows will rush to invite you.

My midnight entertainment is the midnight program of the Los Angeles local station, like a free food at a roadside stand. "

Fat Martin patted the host on the shoulder, "I like to eat at roadside stalls, and the food presented by the store is also unique."

Hearing this obvious comforting words, Hanks could only smile wryly again.

"Let's go, I participated in your show, you treat me to 'roadside stall' in return." Martin pulled him out.

"Ah, it really is George Martin!"

The two were walking in the aisle, and before they had time to enter the elevator, they encountered two TV employees who were yelling.

"Martin, your "A Song of Ice and Fire" is great, please sign it for me, my name is Lily." The girl in her early twenties took out a thick stack of hardcover books from her bag.

"Martin, and me!" Another middle-aged male office worker also took out a copy of "A Dance with Dragons" and looked at the fat man with admiration.

"You know I'm coming?" Fat Martin smiled and took the marker, signed his name on the title page, and left a message of blessing.

"I have been following your news." The male white-collar worker said excitedly.

"Martin, you are simply a genius, able to write such magnificent and magnificent poems." The girl Lily exclaimed loudly.

"Martin, you are the most promising writer of the 21st century to surpass Tolkien."

"Thank you." Fat Martin's face beamed with joy, and he added another sentence of blessing on the title page.

"Martin, can you tell me when the sixth volume will be published? I really want to know how Daenerys unties the 'Meereen Knot'!" the male white-collar asked expectantly.

The smile on Fat Martin's face gradually disappeared, and an invisible depression crept up his brows.

"It's coming soon, probably in the second half of next year."

He waved to them, and entered the elevator with his companion.

Hanks saw something, and asked with concern: "Volume [-], have you encountered some trouble?"

Fat Martin sighed: ""Game of Thrones" is too popular, I am a little stressed, the outline has been revised several times, and I am not very satisfied."

"Ding—" The elevator door opened, and seven or eight TV station employees came in with a lot of books.

"I'm here, it's George Martin!" Soon someone recognized the author of "Game of Thrones".

"Martin is here too? Why didn't you say it earlier, I like Erya so much."

"You guys." Martin stared at the books in their hands, "Eagle Stone", "Half-Did Spirits", "Group Madness".
They are all obscure, seemingly tall names.

But Martin has seen it all.

"Is Rick Maddock here too?" He wondered.

"Maddock is on the 8th floor for the taping of 'Hollywood Eight'."

Fat Martin turned to the anchor in the blue suit, "Hanks, can we have dinner later? I'm also a Maddock fan."

"I'm also very curious about him." The black anchor grinned, showing his big white teeth.

Rick Maddock is a middle-aged man in his early forties, tall, elegant, and well-groomed.

In terms of image, it is much better than fat Martin with beard and bald head.

When Martin and others arrived, the show had already started, and the host had a face-to-face chat with Maddock.

"Jesus, this treatment is too high. He is the only guest at 'Hollywood Eight' and it has been turned into a book release mode. It's too exaggerated." Hanks whispered.

"It's not an exaggeration. He's Maddock, who was selected by the Times Literary Supplement as the best narrative poet after Byron." Martin said with a complicated expression.

"Time Literary Supplement" also reviewed his "A Song of Ice and Fire".

They say it's bloody, fuckin' crap.

An employee nearby said with emotion: "Maddock almost created a Hollywood miracle.

"Crowd Mania" is his original work, which he personally adapted into a script and directed, and finally won three Oscar nominations for Best Original Screenplay, Best Director and Best Picture.

I dare say that the wireless heroine on the headlines of the puppy is not as good as the legend of Madoc. "

Martin is like a little fanboy, standing off-camera with a group of people, watching the entire show.

A full hour and a half.

However, his dedication has paid off.

After the show ended, Maddock refused to accept the warm hospitality of the TV anchor, and walked over to greet him with a smile.

"Hey, Martin, what are you doing here?"

Fat Martin was a little flattered, "Maddock, I'm your fan! Oh, I also come to Fox to participate in the interview program."

He was a little incoherent.

"You also like my book? That's really my honor. Your "Ice and Fire" impresses me very much." Maddock laughed.

"Man, you and the late 80s cult author Erasmus Frye, are two of my favorite authors.

Your epic works have a romantic sentiment in the same strain.

This is the ability that I most desire but also lack most.

Maddock, I am very envious of your talent. said Fat Martin sincerely.

Maddock suddenly froze, and murmured, "Frye is dead?"

"Last summer, suicide by taking poison was very shocking and regrettable. Do you know him?"

"I've met a few times, and I like his works very much, just like you like mine, and he is also very interested in my works." Maddock was stunned, his eyes flickering slightly, "George, you have dinner Yet?

I have a reservation at 'Modern Kaiseki' on Seventh Avenue, would you like to join me? "

"I—" Martin looked at his companion hesitantly.

Hanks patted him on the shoulder and said with a smile, "Go ahead, let's talk another day."

"Do you have an appointment? You can come together." Maddock extended the invitation very politely.

Hanks waved his hand and said with a hearty smile, "I'm a TV anchor, so I can't leave the building for too long."

Two hours later, the two writers walked out of the restaurant side by side.

At the entrance of the parking lot, Maddock said with a complicated expression: "George, do you know that I like your "A Song of Ice and Fire" very much.

I feel that our encounter today is like the old incident between me and Fry 17 years ago. "

"Oh, did you drink alcohol 17 years ago?" Martin asked curiously.

"You can't write the sixth volume of "A Song of Ice and Fire"?"

Maddock didn't answer the question, and the question came a bit abruptly.

Martin was startled, and wanted to say that I can finish the sixth volume next year.

But in the face of Maddock, who is also a writer, he couldn't help but spit out his inner thoughts: "Except for the garbage that was thrown away after writing, I didn't write a single word in the whole year.

Compared with the first five volumes, every sentence I write now seems like crap.

Every character created cannot stand scrutiny, and even seriously collapsed.

Every story is either clichéd or lacks smooth logic.
I laid too many foreshadowings in the first five volumes, and the next one should have been written with spirit, carefree, and in one go, but I always felt that I was missing something.

It was as if a piece of my brain had been gnawed out by a ghost, and something was missing.

Alas, Maddock, you are a true genius, and you may not understand the feeling of powerlessness, helplessness, and incompetence. "

Madoc smiled strangely, "George, how could I not understand? I even know what you lack now."

"What's missing?" Fat Martin asked blankly.

"Inspiration, the kind of inspiration that makes you think like a fountain! But I can help you." Maddock said.

"How?" Martin asked more suspiciously than expected.

"Get in my car and spend the night at my house tonight, I will make you spend an unforgettable night." Maddock said with a strange smile.

Fat Martin tightened his crotch, forced a smile and said, "Madock, I'm afraid you misunderstood, many of the male and female characters in my book are gay.

But myself, I still prefer hot girls like Cersei and Dany. "

"I just have a peerless hot girl who I want to introduce to you."

Martin took a closer look at Madoc. He has a refined temperament, a handsome appearance, and a thin body. Even if the worst happens, it doesn't seem to be too much of a disadvantage.

He got into his co-pilot.

Arriving at Madoc's villa, Martin became frightened again.

There are only two of them in a luxurious villa that can accommodate a hundred people.

His fart and butt hurt, he can barely accept it, but if there are more perverted and bloody activities, maybe Maddock lacks inspiration. Want to find inspiration from him?
If that's the case, then his taste is too strong.

"George, do you know my famous work?"

Maddock took out a sparkling martini and two wine glasses, and asked with a smile.

"Dr. Cary's Cabin," Martin blurted out.

He's such a Madoc fan, he's read every book.

Maddock handed over the wine glass, and asked again: "What's your overall feeling about it? To be honest, we have purely academic exchanges, so you're welcome."

"The first four volumes are full of spirituality, but the writing style is a little immature, and the structure is also a little rough. From the fifth volume, it seems like a different person-oh, I don't mean that you find someone to write for you.

I swear, that's your style.

It's like when you're suddenly kissed by the muse and have a burst of aura. "

"Papa papa!" Maddock applauded lightly and exclaimed, "George, we should have met long ago."

"You and I come—" He pulled fat Martin all the way to the top attic, and stood still outside the door.

"Do you believe in magic?" Maddock asked mysteriously.

"Of course, Harley Quinn, Admiral of the Five Rings, isn't the Kryptonian devil who was defeated by magic?" Martin affirmed.

Madoc pointed to the wooden door and said, "There is a muse inside, you know her too, the famous 'Homer's Muse', Calliope."

"What?" Martin's face was ridiculous.

Maddock smiled and continued: "Seventeen years ago, like you, I became famous with a book, but my inspiration was exhausted halfway, and my life was worse than death.

Like today, Frye met me and gave her to me.

Now, I decide to pass her on to you. "

"Are you kidding? How could the goddess be locked in a small attic." Martin trembled.

Without further explanation, Madoc opened the door directly and led him in.

An empty room, more than 50 square meters, with a musty smell in the air, a Simmons picture in the corner, and a blonde girl sitting with her knees hugged against the wall.

Her hair is like seaweed made of gold, golden and shining.

Her skin is milky white and delicate, like the ripples of milk in the sun.

She's naked, Martin swallows, and she's a hottie.

Maybe it's role-playing, and Maddock is using his muse to help him find inspiration?
"George, the goddess is far less noble than you think!" Maddock said with a hint of sarcasm, "People often say that you have to pray for the favor of the goddess. In fact, coercion is more effective."

(End of this chapter)