Ethan Church by Dryler

Official Description:

When Bella accepts an offer to write the biography of a severely reclusive author, the old, dying man she’s presented with and the young, too perfect man she meets while there convince her she’s missing some very important parts of the story. E/B, AU.

Word Count: 37,395

A century ago – back in the early days of the The Fictionators – we recommended this story. [Okay, fine, it was actually in July 2009… Like I said… a century ago, at least in fandom years.] At the time, Ethan Church was a relatively new story, still very much a WIP, yet even back then, we believed it to be something a little special.

That was then; this is now.

Now – today – I come to you bearing a ‘completed fic’ recommendation and admittedly, also wearing my full fangirling regalia.

I’m only half-way joking, okay. Because you see, I can’t lie to you ladies. And those of you who know me well already know what I’m going to say.

Everyone has their favorites. While I can’t tell you which particular fic is my all time, I can tell you this: EC has been in my top five from the moment I read it years ago, and I have a strong suspicion that it will remain that way into perpetuity. And if I’m going to go ahead and lay it all out there, if I had it my way, every single person in this fandom would read this story. I’ll be upfront in saying that you won’t find a stronger recommendation from me… like… ever.

So now that that’s out of the way, let’s get into a few of the whys…

As the summary suggests, this is a rather AU ride, although as you read, you’ll find some very canon-compatible ties.

We start out in Phoenix, where translator Bella Swan has just been offered the opportunity of a lifetime. She’s a translator by training and trade, but for some strange reason, she receives a request from a man named Ethan Church, a reclusive and enigmatic author, who wishes her to pen his last novel – his own biography. At first, she’s resistant and she denies him. But one evening in her local bookstore, she finds herself unwittingly drawn and ultimately captivated by his words.

“Couldn’t hurt to look,” I murmur to myself, trying to dismiss the growing feeling in my chest as I pull it off the shelf. It’s just a book.

But it’s not just a book. It reaches inside me with the first sentence, leaving something large and heavy in my chest that presses against my lungs, making my heart feel tight. I don’t like this. I want to shut the creased paper cover on this feeling, on these words. I want to make it stop, but this thing in my chest is pulsing and twisting, very much alive. I can’t stop. I can’t even think of stopping, because a part of me is in the book, just like a part of the book is in me.

Bella devours his books, foregoing sleep, sustenance, and mental wellbeing (ahem, sound familiar?). Something strange and perhaps terrifying consumes her, making it impossible for her to say no when Church requests her again. So she says yes, and before she knows it, Bella finds herself in an old, crumbling estate in the state of Washington, sitting across from an elderly old man who calls himself Ethan.

“You want me to… translate you into words?”

He looks off to the side thoughtfully, and then turns back to me with a smile. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

“This is very unusual,” I comment with an uncomfortable laugh.

“And you haven’t even heard my story yet.” He takes a deep, raspy breath and leans back further against the couch, resting quietly for a moment. His right hand is still shaking slightly, while the left lies limply on his lap, both mottled with scars. He seems tired already, and we’ve only just started speaking.

Thus begins a routine. Every morning they meet and Church tells her his tale, taking her through the decades, all the way from his birth in 1918. Yet even as Bella listens and takes in his words, something is missing. There’s a mystery – something cryptic and unspoken – that she can’t quite put her finger on. Something about this elderly man and his story isn’t quite right.

Of course, Church isn’t the only mystery she finds – far, far from it. He’s just the beginning. For on a dark, stormy night, Bella encounters… him.

I have the feeling of being watched again, but this time it’s not a passive gaze, waiting patiently for the inevitable. It isn’t until I hear the quiet rumbling noise that I realize the feeling is predatory. I flatten my back against the wall, staring into the dark corner by the window where the noise seems to be coming from. I stand perfectly still, my heart thumping in my chest, echoed by the thing lodged next to it.

Lightning flashes outside the window, briefly illuminating the end of the hall. The light spreads partway into the corner, and for a second I see a hard jaw-line, long neck, and, lower, a clenched fist all stark white and tense, but it’s gone in an instant, even before the blinding light gives way to the country dark.

I think the thing that this fic does better than almost anything else I’ve read is that it makes me feel. Like truly, physically, feel. I feel the tug that Bella describes in my chest. I feel the weight and the longing and the confusion. It’s difficult to describe, but as I read, I am Bella, and I’m desperate and mesmerized and aching.

There are two particular scenes in this story that just blow me away, both of which occur in the estate’s gardens. I’ll quote a this last long segment, because I want you to really see what’s going on here and I want you to feel the incredible tension and mood that dryler created.

I wander mindlessly through the hedges that twist and turn, seemingly without end. It seems like an entirely different place from the one I walked in with Adelaide this afternoon. This place is dark and sinister, hiding secrets in its deep shadows. If I hadn’t been here earlier, seen it in the harsh light of day, I might be strongly tempted to think it was alive, shifting and changing to keep me searching but never finding anything. I might be strongly tempted to think this was part of a different world. I’m tempted enough as it is.

The thing continues to get steadily stronger, and then I turn one more corner, and the feeling blossoms in my chest, overriding everything else. He’s here, standing in the opening in the hedges on the other side of the pocket garden. He was the one in the hallway. I don’t know how I know that, but I do.

He isn’t in the shadows this time. He’s standing out in the light of the moon, pale and perfect. He’s too pale, too beautiful, too perfect to be real. He’s impossible. That thought should be enough to drive me away, but instead I take an unconscious step forward. He takes a corresponding step backwards, and his lips quirk into a reassuring smile, meant to dismiss his actions. His eyes don’t match the rest of his expression. They have a look I can’t place, too many emotions muddled together to pick out any one.

As soon as my eyes meet his the feeling in my chest contracts into a tight, heavy ball, pulling all the oxygen from my lungs in the process. We stand there in a silence that stretches until it seems endless.

“Who are you?” If I didn’t recognize my own voice I wouldn’t know I’d spoken.

That second scene? Yeah, no way am I spoiling that. But here’s a hint: Chapter 9.

And of course, to get to the bottom of the mystery, you’ll definitely have to read.

For me, this story is a perfect example of what fic can truly be. It’s extremely well-written for starters, and a great example of where 1st person narration just… works. It’s mysterious and maybe a little heavy, but the mood that dryler sets up is unlike anything else I’ve found in fic. The plot is both unique and familiar, and while it’s fairly AU, for all you canon-ish people, I can’t imagine not finding this story completely enthralling.

Yes, I just said enthralling. Because that’s what I was the first time I read this story and what I am every time I re-read it: I am enthralled by it.

And I think, you will be, too.

So, what are you waiting for? If you’re already read, I highly suggest a re-read. And if you’ve never tried this one, do yourself a favor: click on over to dryler’s page and read Ethan Church ASAP.

Until next time!

Here’s what we had to say before:

Kassiah says: This story begins with Bella, a translator, begrudgingly accepting a position to write Ethan Church’s biography. Since the central theme of his books is death, she refuses to read any of Church’s novels until she feels an unmistakable pull towards them one afternoon. At that point, there is little question of her following down the path that Ethan Church is leading her on. This story is mysterious and ambiguous. There are only four chapters, and I am the first to admit that I am not sure about what is going on, but Dryler is weaving a well-written tale of intrigue that leaves me wanting more, more, more.