A luminous manuscript is a collection of the thin, flat sheets produced by the mechanical compression and combination of wood pulp and the luminescence of common plants such as the Fefferberry. Whereas "luminous manuscript" often reflects a larger work or book, "lume" (for the syllabolically-challenged) has come to refer to anything made from these sheets, whether a singular page or not. Besides books and manuscripts, lume is also used in the creation of:
- Lumics: Lumics (sometimes lumix) is an art form that features a series of static images in fixed sequence, usually to tell a story. Typically, text is incorporated into the images, either in the form of a "speech balloon", sound effect, or explanatory caption or lead-in. Commonly viewed as only for youngsters, mature lumics do exist in ever-increasing varieties, often touching on "taboo" topics such as Ghyllian reproduction or AuroAnthropology.
- Lumograms: Lumograms are single sheets of lume featuring a full canvas painting or illustration, sometimes with a margin so that they may be mounted, framed, and hung without losing visual appeal. Although their primary purpose is for display in theatres to enthrall passerbys with the shows currently playing, they've also earned a reputation as "naughty frames", of which Bethany Mboya (purportedly) is most well-known.
The origin and reasoning for adding plant luminescence to wood pulp has been lost, but many scholars think that our natural attraction to light is an indication of our own inner and continued lust for knowledge. Thus, storing information, art, and history on glowing artifacts will always lead the way to intellectual salvation. These self-same scholars argue voraciously on the "inevitable social and cultural downfall" that lumograms and lumics "promise to ferment." (Of course, since lumics give off light, parents can easily catch their "sleeping" young partaking in this illicit corruption of "all that is good in the world.")
Some people wish that lumes didn't... lume, especially when they live near institutions which make it a habit of keeping large stockpiles for archival or browsing purposes. Spurred on by throwaway work of rogue scientist Meldersen, recent developments have seen the creation of lume that doesn't produce any noticable light. Called "cacolume" by those who prefer its demise, the Folktown Records tried it for their monumental 600th issue ("A New Beginning!") in -1 EC, but quickly returned to normal lume after numerous complaints that the ink was rubbing off on its readers' fingers. The Iganefta Recorder reported great delight at this mishap, and saw a marked increase in readership due to the failure.
--Morbus Iff 20:13, 14 Dec 2004 (EST)