I have also occasionally been tempted to try and get a Goncharov thing going, where everyone collectively recalls that Tommy Berry and the Forevernight Forest got them into reading.

It was just after an ordinary afternoon tea, on an ordinary Sunday, the first cold day of autumn, when Tommy Berry discovered that Time was no longer adding up in the ordinary way.

Tommy had only managed to drink one cup of very indifferently warm tea, and eat the last plain saltine from the bottom of the bag. Everything else had been gobbled up or drunk down by his uncle Myrvold, who was rotund as a boulder and about as kind, and his step-aunt Meredith, who was thin as a snake and considerably more mean. So, yes, it was altogether quite the ordinary teatime.

Tommy had a secret, you see. In fact, he had two, a big one that he knew about and an even bigger one that was just about to fall on top of him.

His first secret was that he had a library card. He had stolen an adult’s library card. Or that is how Uncle Myrvold and Step-Aunt Meredith would have described it, if they knew.

Carruthers, who lived down the end of the lane and always yelled at Tommy to mind his hedges, and who let his dog chase Tommy and the other children, had made a big show of throwing his library card into the roadway because, he said, the library was full of immoral books. A car had then driven over it, and then a whole lorry, and then Tommy had snatched it up. Something told him that anything Carruthers hated, he should save, and anything that Myrvold and Meredith would be angry about, he should hold onto.

Tommy had heard adults say that something was “burning a hole in my pocket”. He wondered if this was what that meant. It felt like he was carrying a hot coal in the pocket of his threadbare corduroy jacket, and no one could know.

The library had a new machine. He had seen adults use it. You could go up to it, wave a book under a red laser light like at the grocery store, then show the machine your card, and it would check out the book for you. Tommy made a plan. He would slip out of the house just after tea. He would walk the five blocks to the library. He would find a book that Myrvold and Meredith and Carruthers and every other grownup would not want him to read. He would wait until the librarian was busy dealing with a whole queue of people. And then he would use the machine.

Everything went perfectly until the very last step.

There was a girl at the machine.

He had a big fat book in his hands, a book he had picked because it had “Murder” in the title and would last a long time, and there was a girl in front of him at the library machine.

“Murder at Wizard University?” she asked him, right to his face, like they had already been introduced, like they had known each other since nursery school. “That’s not a book for little kids.” His stomach dropped, right into his feet. He didn’t know that a stomach could do such a thing.

And then she tilted the stack of books she was carrying toward him, showing him the titles on their spines. “Neither are these,” she said.

And she pulled out her own library card. It was black, like a rectangle cut out of the midnight sky.

That’s all I wrote in the thread that prompted me to take a stab. Oh, I think I had decided that the girl’s name is Elfriede? And the principal of magic school is nonbinary.

“Why, of course there’s a potion for changing,” said Professor Shade. “That is what potions do. I don’t know where I’d be without it. It is ever so helpful to reach the top shelf, but on the other hand, men’s fashions haven’t been truly swank in a hundred fifty years.”

Being the kind of writer I am, whenever this comes up I am tempted to suggest ways it could have been done better.

The premise kind of does work in a setting like Harry Potter, the wizarding world is insular enough that a clever kid could bring in some new ideas. The problem is Eliezer wanted to throw in too many shortcuts. Its not enough for creativity with transmutations to give the protagonist a small edge, transmutation is made into the ultimate all-purpose spell so the protagonist can exploit it easier. The protagonist isn’t just moderately better at Patronus with some muggle psychology, his patronus can kill dementors. And the philosopher’s stone is changed into some ancient atlantean super-magic, because fuck wizards ever inventing anything, and also instead of some moderate rate of its typical mythological powers it is super transmutation.

But, first, I am not glazing the work of Rowling, even indirectly, no way, no how.

Rowling went mask off transphobe in 2018, HPMOR finished in 2015. So I won’t blame Eliezer for not picking a different fandom at the time. Eliezer has actually said moderately supportive comments, including of using people’s preferred pronouns (we’ve mocked another lesswronger for writing long screeds complaining about this). In general, I think the average lesswrong attitude towards trans people is better than the average American’s attitude… but that is because the bar is in hell. But yeah I’ve seen plenty of shitty takes towards trans people on lesswrong.

Second, HPMoR was cult shit all along, not meant to teach science but to sow distrust of scientists under the glossy sheen of being able to name the six quarks.

Yep. And it didn’t even stick to its premise of “try to do science to magic and compare muggle scientifically gained knowledge to magic” and instead went into some Ender’s game pastiche followed by Death Note style “I know you know I know” plotting, then Harry gets handed all the magical power handed to him at the end of the story thanks to Dumbledore following some insane combination of prophecy.