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goose-books · 4 years

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(original image credit to @/theyshane on unsplash)

a month or so ago the wonderful and very sharp-fanged @yvesdot said i should make a post about the process of Working On A Podcast - what, exactly, does that entail? and so today i set down upon your table a long post about the process of this podcast, its unique struggles, and What Comes Next!

for those of you who are new here: a modern tragedy is my podcast-in-progress, a loose retelling of three of shakespeare’s plays (romeo&juliet, hamlet, and macbeth) set in a modern-day high school. or, alternatively, “so so much drama localized inside a few overlapping friend groups of gay* people”

post under the cut!

tag list (ask me to be added/removed): @piyawrites @harehearts @bisexualorlando @guulabjamuns

*well. gay people and indrajit “macbitch” chopra. never let it be said i don’t have cishet rep 😤

what i mean when i say “podcast”

sometimes when i say, “i’m writing a podcast,” people get the wrong idea - they think i’m going to sit down, maybe with some friends as guest stars, and talk into a microphone for an hour. what i really mean is that i’m writing a fiction podcast - something like an audio drama, if you will.

i’ve had this story concept for a long time (since i realized i was gay, actually. sometime around my coming out i was like “...sapphic romeo and juliet. oh i’m a genius”), but it never really worked as a novel. my inspiration for making it a podcast was the penumbra podcast! which i am not caught up on but which dragged me shirt-collar-first into the world of podcasts. [blowing a kiss to mars] for juno steel.

i will admit that i actually... haven’t listened to a ton of podcasts. mostly because my incredibly helpful attention-deficit brain said listening to things is impossible forever. but let me tell you that starting to write AMT in script format worked immediately. and in hindsight? it makes sense. i mean, i am retelling some of the most famous plays of all time... why not get a little theatrical with it?

the process so far

the podcast is drafted! all 16 episodes of it. all... 176k words of it... only took me a year and a half...

i have my main cast together! AMT has a lot of side characters, not all of whom are cast yet, but my main recurring squad is gathered and i love them all VERY dearly. (also, the population of people i know irl is 75% theater kid. so i think i will be able to figure out the side character thing.)

within the group of voice actors, i also have three assistant directors, a term i use loosely because mostly i just mean… those are my right hand men. the main folks i bounce ideas off of and the main folks i have helping me organize all of this. i’ve said multiple times that i’m just the keyboard monkey and would be hopelessly out of my depth without my beloved assdirectors. (shoutout to @asimpleram, the only one who uses tumblr, you are my best friend and i love you oh so much)

i also have two “bootydirectors” who gave themselves that name and that’s just the people who know the most about recording technology and acting. thanks kings

right now the scripts have been sent out to some sensitivity readers and i am currently editing! (both with regards to sensitivity reader feedback, and also just editing the plot and character arcs in general.) (if you want me to send you AMT and you’re willing to give me your thoughts i will straight-up send it to you honestly just know it’s LONG)

i actually did not consider that writing this might be uniquely hard before i started

fun max tip: if you look too far ahead down the road and realize the breadth of the project you’re taking on you’ll freak yourself out so just dive into things headfirst without checking both ways or considering your actions!!! [i am giving you a double thumbs up from behind my monitor]

i have never written anything like AMT before! it has been an experience! there have been some unique struggles!

working with other people is harder than i expected! which is not about my group, all of whom are lovely people. it is about me and my little OCD rat brain that hates letting go of control. even though... an inherent part of writing a script... is that at some point other people will be involved... wild, i know.

9 main characters! AMT has 9 main characters. this is somewhat excusable because the whole thing is episodic and more like a season of a tv show than a novel. but still. 9 main characters. why did i do that

i’ve never written episodically before, so i’ve had to figure out how to fit the plot into appropriately spaced intervals. there are three running plotlines (one for each play), and they’re all parallel and eventually convergent. so everything’s happening at once and it’s… hard to make episodes that aren’t just “max threw a bunch of scenes together because they were happening at the same time.” (i will admit i’ve defaulted to chronological order when spacing episodes, so the timeline doesn’t get confusing. but i hope each episode is cohesive on its own.)

balancing the tragedy and comedy in tragicomedy has been… interesting. i do to some degree feel like AMT’s gone darker than i initially imagined it; while it’s a high school retelling of these plays (and thus there’s no. there’s no murder. the only person who dies is isaac’s dad and that’s six years precanon), all three plays deal to differing degrees with suicide, among other things, and it felt… disingenuous not to write about that from a modern high schooler’s perspective.

i can guarantee a long-term happy ending for AMT! i cannot guarantee much about what’s in the middle. (there are sixteen episodes; one of my directors likened episode 7 to a five-act play’s third act, when things really start to… hit the fan. he’s right and i’m obsessed with thinking about it that way)

the massive amount of time i have been working on the thing: i started writing this podcast in january 2019. i finished writing it this past summer (2020). that’s two summers that have passed without my recording it (which is obviously easier to organize in the summer… or it was before covid but you get my point). this is… a little disheartening? i don’t know; oftentimes i underestimate how long writing projects will take me. what it comes down to is my urge to put out content vs. my urge to make it perfect…

…especially since i’m technically competing with one william f. shakespeare. (the f is for fucking.) i mean, dear old billy shakes DID write the plot out for me ahead of time, which i appreciate, but still…

AMT is absolutely consumable if you don’t know the first goddamn thing about shakespeare’s works. that said. i assume some of the people who will listen to it are shakespeare enthusiasts, casual or otherwise, and that’s a little terrifying! AMT is a shakespeare retelling, but i’ve made these characters very much my own, and i suppose i worry about how others will approach that, and whether they will disagree with my interpretations, or the way i’ve adapted the plots, and so on and so forth... i just have to live with this one, honestly. i think i could edit AMT for a thousand years and probably still find something to change about it, so i will simply have to get over myself.

that said, i don’t regret the amount of time i’ve spent on it! i think the time i’ve taken to draft and edit these episodes has been well worth the wait; i’m genuinely very happy with what i’ve created, and whether or not you agree with, say, my interpretation of a modern hamlet family dynamic, i hope it’ll still be enjoyable!

so what’s next?

as i said earlier, the scripts are currently in the hands of sensitivity readers, and i’m editing!

over the summer, the cast met on zoom frequently to read through and rehearse scenes. and i will not lie it was the most fucking fun i’ve had this entire wretched interminable year. i am constantly charmed and befuddled by the feeling of Listening To My Words Read Out Loud By A Human Voice and also i love my friends so very much

we have a tentative plan to gather the cast (socially distanced and responsibly, of course) over thanksgiving break to make some actual stabs at recording! i am too afraid to concretely promise AMT Episode 1: Fortune’s Fool by the end of 2020 but like… i’m not NOT promising it! send me your finest vibes. we’re close.

#max.txt #amt tag #the amt cast has a blursed discord server which i have not posted a link to publicly because it’s mostly people i know irl #but if you're one of the folks who's read all of amt which is... a few of you... and you want into the server... dm me #we used to use it to organize rehearsals but now that school's started it's mostly just been me complaining about editing i won't lie #max shouts into the void in his personal liveblog channel while 90% of the cast is offline #anyway i reread this post like three times to make sure it makes sense because i'm illiterate <3

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thepandemicinterviews · 3 years

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Lily, December 13 2020, Sydney

The Guardian recently asked their readers how they would describe 2020 in one word. The top two words were ‘shit’ and ‘fucked’. I, too, am partial to the simplicity of a swearword, as you’ll see towards the end of this interview with Lily. I noticed as well our constant usage of crazy and insane to describe anything from literature to dreams to the general feeling of this year. Much like shit or fucked: when faced with utter absurdity, it is difficult for our brains to not reach for the most compact yet forceful words to express a sense of awe (in one of my psychology classes this year, we learnt that awe is apparently a combination of fear, joy, surprise, and embarrassment). There is no value judgment here: crazy, in the sense used below, is not good or bad. There are some emotional reactions that resist language – these overused words are a placeholder for silently screaming. Anyway, let’s lean into the madness and await catharsis. It’s okay to surrender every once in a while.

Today I thought of a better word to describe 2020. Tragicomedy. Merriam-Webster defines tragicomedy as ‘a drama or a situation blending tragic and comic elements.’ Tragicomedy goes hand in hand with a sense of alienation from reality. Amidst long stretches of despair and disconnection, there has been no shortage of satirical articles to help us along. Empty laughter is still laughter. And then there are tears, the ultimate symbol of the tragic. To quote myself in the interview, there’s a lot to cry about.

I honestly feel that tragicomedy is the literary genre that most resembles real life. Or perhaps it is a lens through which to narrativise real life, one that allows for the interlacing of misery and humour. Perhaps some of us are more inclined towards drama than others.

Lily and I were Tumblr mutuals for a few months or a few years, I’m not sure, before finally meeting through real life mutual friends. I was immediately drawn to Lily’s intelligence, her love of literature and all that is slightly intangible. Her unpretentious brilliance and interest in the lives of others resounds loudly in our interview. I feel blessed, and I feel warm, to have recorded this conversation.

With the close of our-year-in-chaos, 2020, as our backdrop, Lily and I ponder dreams, crying, pleasure, and the mysterious early months of the coronavirus. For those who make it to the end of the interview: sadly we did not see any shooting stars as we got the day wrong. But that shouldn’t stop us, or you, from wishing and dreaming for a less tragic 2021.

C: Hi Lily. What’s been on your mind recently?

L: Oh man. A lot of things. Who am I? What am I? And what is this? [Laughs.] I think at the moment I’ve just been very surprised and overwhelmed by being a person. It’s been a very strange year and I’ve been reading a very strange writer in a very strange context for that writer. And I think I’ve just felt sort of strange coming out of that experience now that things are open. And it just feels very strange to be among people again, sort of, and really missing that. But also finding it all very odd. I think when you spend a lot of time, you forget what it is you are. In both a good and bad way. Do you agree Chloe?

C: Well, I’m thinking about how the person you are, or how you conceptualise who you are, when you spend a lot of time with yourself and not with other people – it can change a lot as soon as you start spending a lot of time around other people. Who you are, like what you think you are.

L: I think a lot of what has happened this year is people have spent a lot of time with themselves, and for some that has meant lots of really wonderful things like hobbies and things that they would’ve never taken up if they were living their day to day life with lots of friends and family. Loneliness can always have a very creative effect on people. But I think simultaneously now that we’re all among each other again a bit more, lots of the self-focused things that people were doing during lockdown have made them maybe slightly more intolerant to other people? That’s my experience. At least, both for myself and for others. I don’t know, it’s so strange. I used to never be bothered by other people’s daily things. It used to just not bother me, but suddenly it’s like really irritating.

C: You’re standing too close to me…

L: Exactly, you’re standing too close to me, did you just sneeze. All of these absurd reactions.

C: Literally a year ago today we would have never considered someone coughing on the train concerning.

L: No, exactly. In fact, I used to take pride in not being concerned by anything like that. I was like, the poor person is sick! Good on them for being out and about. That’s really changed. Now it’s like, oh my god, if you get me sick and then I kill someone.

C: There’s so much involved.

L: I actually had a funny experience the other day where – and this is partly why I actually felt like it was sort of fate, Chloe, that you asked to interview me at this point in the year. It’s true, because I think in the early part of the year, I don’t know, I was just – there were a lot of different experiences I was just sort of overwhelmed by. I underwent so many transformations in mood throughout this whole period. And I only think now that I’m sort of coming to a breaking point in my experience of this whole thing.

C: That’s amazing.

L: It is good! And I think yesterday, I just felt really happy. I just felt relieved somehow. I just had this sort of sense of relief in my heart that we’d come to the better side of what all of this is.

C: And the rest of the world is undergoing the worst they’ve ever seen.

L: Undergoing the worst, I know. And that’s so alienating. I think that’s actually probably been my worst and main feeling this year is just feeling sort of alienated from my own experience, from other people. Not really knowing how to talk to people in Melbourne, not really knowing how to talk to my family in the UK and in America. Because I’ve just felt like what was going on for me was just really different. It’s been that combined with I think just, in many ways, it’s just been overwhelming but sort of alienating being inside a lot for a long period of time. Or sort of the opposite of alienating such that you don’t get used to the amount of alienation. Like when you go out in the world and you are different from it, I think there’s a slight sort of alienation but in a really productive way, a way that’s really fun and enjoyable. But this year being inside a lot, you sort of lack all feelings of alienation and completely dwell in your own space, such that you go outside and you’re much more alienated because it’s no longer that nice, sort of productive space anymore. You’re not really a part of that. You feel like you are your house. Space is such a strange thing. When you move through lots of different spaces in the world, you sort of feel more like you’re simply you, in your body, as opposed to an entire space. And I think that’s a nice balance. Being able to envision yourself in different spaces and that’s not too alienating, you just feel part of it, I think. Did that make any sense or was that completely chaotic?

C: It was very chaotic, but I’m thinking about like space at a warehouse party where there’s no space and everyone’s… But there’s enough space that it’s comfortable but you know, you’re surrounded by people and that being allowed.

L: Yeah, it does weird things to people. I think I was originally going to tell a story but then that ended up breaking up into a million different thoughts.

C: Do you know what the story was?

L: Yeah, I do. It has to do with how I sort of came to a breaking point and it’s the significant thing that has happened at the end in terms of Covid this year, in terms of my life this year. Not like in itself as an event, but I felt like a sort of lead up to some event like this. Which was, a couple of days ago I had my first ballet exam. So I did that.

C: First ever?

L: First ever ballet exam. Which was really fun. It was really stressful, but it was fine.

C: Were you with other people?

L: Yeah, I was with two fourteen year olds. So I did that. I hadn’t had any breakfast because I was nervous for the exam. And then I went to the library and I had a talk at 2pm in front of the English faculty and all my Honours cohort. And it was just on something you’d learnt, so of course I hadn’t written it. I just thought, I’ve learnt so many things, I’ll be able to just come together and say something. And I ended up sort of thinking what could I use to reflect on my year. And I found some sort of quote from one of my second year essays. It wasn’t even a particularly good essay, but I was like yeah, I think that quote that I wrote about in that essay really fits this whole theme. And we’re at this talk and the first two speakers at the event were quite funny. Very well curated talks. One girl even said afterwards that she’d recorded herself speaking, which I found fascinating that she’d recorded herself. I was like, wow, these five to seven minutes were…

C: That important to her.

L: They were that important! She was going to make them good. I, on the other hand, wrote my speech in forty minutes when I hadn’t had lunch or breakfast. It was like 1:30pm. Anyway, I loved those two speakers. I still pretty much had faith in myself to speak on the spot and say something, which was maybe cocky. It was so strange when I got up and started speaking, and the first thing I said was, it’s so nice just to be here in this space among humans. I just started going on about how everyone looked so different three-dimensionally. It was so nice to hear voices, I just wanted to hear voices. That was sort of why I wanted to do this [laughs]. I just missed hearing the human voice. And I just started crying! Like, really crying. So much, at one point I was like okay, I’m just going to take a few breaths. I took a few breaths, and as I went back to talk I sort of like – you know when someone sort of cry-coughs in this weird way? And as I sort of cry-coughed trying to speak, a big bit of snot flew out of my nose, onto my hand!

C: How many people are here?

L: Like all of my English professors. The room was full with thirty-five people maybe. People who are my teachers. Everyone was there. When I saw the snot – there were no tissues, because obviously everyone’s like, no one should be sick if they’re going to be out, so we didn’t have tissues around. What they did have was a bloody Covid anti-bacterial cloth [laughs]. I sort of looked at it, went to grab it, and then was like, okay, no. That would be too much.

C: So good. A real Covid story!

L: Yeah. But I genuinely, I just kept crying, it was horrible. I completely lost the thread of what I was saying. I was like, I read Middlemarch in [so-and-so’s] class, and it was really good. And I thought that Dorothy and Will’s love was real – I just said all these ridiculous things. And I told everyone that before Honours, I used to dream about my essays, but I found instead this year it was really boring, which is probably the worst thing that I said!

C: You didn’t have any dreams about your essays?

L: I used to dream about my essays.

C: But not this year?

L: I probably have dreamt about them this year, but I’ve had fewer essays. And they’ve just been research essays, where the sensation of dreaming, it’s more like a nightmare. It’s like, oh my god, did I say that?

C: Do you dream about them after they’re written or are they like dreams that are conjuring up ideas?

L: Okay, I have to admit I still do have dreams in the nice way. But like probably two. Whereas I used to just have dreams, they used to be relaxing, that was the main thing that happened with essays.

C: What did one of the dreams look like?

L: Where you feel like you’re – I’ve always just described the sensation of just like getting deeper into something. You’re just like, yes, I’m going to get the mystery of this whole subject! I can feel the mystery in my fingers. Just this really sort of crazy sensation that makes you not want to wake up because it’s so good.

C: Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever had an essay dream. It sounds fantastic. Mine are like quite just not clear.

L: How do you feel in your dreams?

C: I feel like I’m just not really there. I don’t really have thoughts, I’m just… It’s not linked to me.

L: Yeah, they’re not linked to you. They’re not like intense.

C: They’re intense, but they’re not linked to my real life in the way that digging into your already existing essay is.

L: Right. They’re sort of glimpses of worlds. Is that how it feels? Are they like human worlds or are they like colours?

C: Oh yeah. No, I have dreams about things that are happening.

L: Not like directly happening to you.

C: It all feels a bit vague and murky. It’s not like a sharp, like, we’re writing an essay.

L: It’s funny, I mean I wouldn’t describe them as sharp because they’re still vague, but I think it’s more like a degree of intensity. Because you wake up in the morning, you don’t know what – like what can I say except that I was dreaming about the essay. Sometimes I can articulate clear ideas but they’re always just completely nonsensical if you go to say them. They just sound like very weird words. Someone’s always doing something unexpected, something that just doesn’t really fit or even necessarily reveal anything deep and meaningful. There’s this really chaotic element, and then there’s this sort of sharp sensation that it’s linked to something that is going on, maybe, with your life. And maybe that’s what – you have a dream, you don’t necessarily feel like it actually reflects anything in your real life in a clear – yeah, it’s not connected to that. It’s something else. But I think my dreams are vague. I don’t know anyone who has non-vague dreams. Can you imagine?

C: No, my friend has like really detailed and long dreams. And she can write it all out and it’s like a whole page.

L: I can write out my dreams. But they’re just crazy.

C: So you remember them?

L: I do remember them, yeah. If I write them.

C: But I wake up and I can’t remember it to the point of writing it. I can kind of feel it.

L: You feel that you had a dream.

C: I can feel it, and I maybe get little glimmers of a memory, but then it goes.

L: Yeah. I find those little hauntings so strange when you get a glimmer of a memory of a dream. It’s so crazy. I think because I dream a lot, I often have them throughout the day but I can’t remember when I dreamt that dream. But it gives everything an eerie feeling. Like what the hell. It’s like I’m living another life sort of in their dream and it’s affecting me emotionally. But just like, what’s the relationship between that dreaming world and that world that you didn’t consciously produce.

C: And for some people the lines are more blurred.

L: For sure. I think it’s always scared me, I feel for me they’re quite blurred. And I think it’s a scary sensation, you really can’t go too far with that.

C: Yeah.

L: I think honestly the thing that’s blurred the lines for me the most is literature and dreaming. I always find it really surprising that other people don’t realise how crazy literature is. It’s insane. What’s disconcerted me and what particularly disconcerted me on that day at the talk at the English department was I was like, how do people study this stuff? Like what is going on here. All of these people are dressed up like this is their job? This is the craziest thing in the world! Literature is insane! Do you guys know what you’re doing?

C: Let’s stop pretending. Stop wearing those suits.

L: Why are we pretending? I think particularly while I was crying, I was like, if you think this is crazy, have you ever read a book? You guys, you’ve all read books. This is normal, this is fine, this stuff happens. Much worse happens!

C: No, it’s the best place to do that.

L: Yes.

C: Citi did a similar thing in her acting class. She was meant to be doing some kind of role play. And then she just started laughing, and then crying, and she couldn’t stop.

L: No! Yes. Ugh. I hate that, I hate that. I mean, it’s sort of – I love criers, I love people who cry. I think crying can be incited by so many things. Crying, I think, it’s often its best and its worst at times when you’ve experienced some bit of rejection or grief. Like it doesn’t have to be a real rejection, just you perceive rejection. And if one other disappointment just really sort of crushes something of you at that moment, and it needs to be released in tears. And it can feel really good. It’s intense, though.

C: It’s intense in front of other people.

L: Yeah. Why does it feel so embarrassing? It’s all snotty.

C: Imagine if people just cried all the time around each other.

L: Some people can’t cry. My boyfriend’s like, I don’t cry, I can’t cry.

C: That’s fucked.

L: I don’t understand. I definitely cry once a week.

C: Same. There’s a lot to cry about.

L: There’s a lot to cry about. I used to have amazing crying fits before I was in a relationship. Now you can’t really have crying fits unless you’re by yourself.

C: You live with someone.

L: You live with someone and they’re like, what is wrong? And you’re like, I just need to do this.

C: It feels good.

L: Yeah, it’s hard for people to imagine. Some people just completely freak out about crying. When I came home I told my housemate what had happened, and he said, that sounds terrible, I wouldn’t have liked to be in the audience. There are just a lot of people for whom criers are just really embarrassing. And they’re just like, oh my god, I can’t believe you’re expressing emotion, I would never do that.

C: And that’s literature. It’s so tied to expressing emotion in socially not accepted ways.

L: Yes, for sure. All the different ways that people cope. Which is so strange to think. I can’t imagine being a person who doesn’t think about that all the time. How do people cope? What are they doing? There are so many ways of doing it, but you don’t know unless you talk to people or you read books, what’s going on for them. And often people don’t at least talk to each other in that sort of way. It’s more of a thing now amongst the young. But still, even though, lots of people have a lot of trouble. And you can always get better, really. It’s kind of like, I don’t really know entirely what’s going on with me obviously. No one knows for sure. Like we were talking about earlier, sort of with psychology, there’s only so much you get to know yourself without someone else.

[Both deeply sigh.]

C: Just seeing that in writing, like, both sigh deeply [laughs].

L: That was a massive sigh! I think we both needed to take a breath as well.

C: My yoga class today I found that I could breathe in time to [the instructor] a lot easier, a lot more naturally. Like my breathing improved. So that was nice.

L: That’s beautiful. The breathing is so nice, right? I used to hate breathing, but I like it now.

C: It’s a muscle that you have to train.

L: Yeah, it’s true. When it’s properly trained. I think running has really helped train my breath. I love the feeling of deepening your lungs. A sort of internal stretch.

C: Beautiful. Internal stretch. Good band name, perhaps?

L: It’s a bit scary! Chloe! This is hilarious.

* * *

L: I’ve really just missed overhearing conversations actually. That’s the one thing I wanted to tell you was that there’s something particularly beautiful about your blog to me, because the thing that I’ve missed most is not hearing other people have conversations. For almost no point as well, like a conversation that’s purely just about like, who are you, who am I, what’s going on? You know what I mean?

C: Yeah, and people have a lot to say if you ask.

L: Exactly, exactly. If you are just a bit curious.

C: Often in social settings, in a group, you don’t really get to ask about people’s thoughts and feelings.

L: Yeah, it’s true. I think often we just wait for people to come to us to say things that they want to say. There are so many things that people would just never say for that reason because they’re not going to think that you’re interested.

C: It’s amazing what a bit of interest can do to someone. That’s all like counselling. Someone actually cares.

L: Someone cares. Interest makes people interesting, usually, as well. Because they don’t just give you the sort of one word, ordinary answer where it’s just for the sake of it. If you actually seem interested, they might try to give you a real answer.

C: Ask further questions.

L: What’s the most interesting question someone has ever asked you? Or is there any question that someone has asked you and you’ve been like, wow, that was really psychic?

C: I can’t think of anything right now.

L: It’s hard to come up with on the spot.

C: Can you think of anything?

L: No, actually. But I think one thing that I’ve noticed, I used to not answer people’s questions because I thought they weren’t interesting. But then I went through this period of really liking it, and now I think this year almost I haven’t been that interested in people’s questions. Which I think is strange. It’s strange not just really really liking people’s questions. Maybe people haven’t really asked me any questions. Because I haven’t had that experience this year very much of having questions posed to me, and finding that interesting. I was noticing the other day, I was just like, what has happened? Has someone done this to me? Do I not like questions anymore? But I think that’s just, when you’re not at university and you’re not meeting people very often, people you don’t see day to day. People day to day, who live with you day to day often don’t ask you big questions. They’ll ask you little questions and because they observe you every day, they don’t necessarily realise that there might be all kinds of things going on inside of you unless you express that.

* * *

L: Pleasure is a very good thing. I don’t like it as much as I used to though. I don’t know, in some ways I like it more.

C: What kinds of pleasure? Just like pleasure in its purest form?

L: Yeah, enjoying food, sex, music. Very sort of sensory excitement. Genuine pleasure.

C: Those are the three pleasures! Food, sex, music.

L: There are other pleasures, but… Reading novels is a different sensation, it’s not quite as immediate. You have to build a sort of story. And of course, we can feel ourselves as part of stories as well and that can be very pleasurable sometimes. It’s like, I’m this sort of person, I have this sort of trace, these are my people. That stuff can be really meaningful even if not sort of directly pleasurable in the same way. I think that’s the really nice thing about direct pleasure, it takes you away from that more satisfying pleasure, like you’re on the sort of story narrative. People need a break from that, because often people don’t feel like they’re in a very good story.

C: I have just over – I don’t know, maybe it’s not over, like maybe it’s just normal and good – I just always create these narratives for what’s going to happen, what that means, and it never works that way. So I should stop narrativising but, you know, it’s instinctual.

L: It’s so instinctual. But the horrible thing about it I find is that it’s not just sort of narrativising what has happened, it is narrativising what’s going to happen in the future. When it comes to the future, it’s terrible because you just have so little control over it. So basically whatever you imagine is just not going to happen. Unlike with the past where it’s already happened.

C: Exactly. Sometimes I’m like, if I’m imagining this, it won’t happen. The chances are.

L: It’s true.

C: I just had a bit of a rollercoaster and I’ve come to the point where I’m like relationships don’t happen. Like it’s impossible. I’m not going to try to date anymore because it’s just futile.

L: Dating is one of the hardest things to try to plot and plan. Like you can meet people, but I think the worst thing is that a lot of people who are looking to meet people are a little bit – like they’re looking to meet lots of people, or they’re not necessarily looking to have a proper relationship. And if they are, often that doesn’t work out either because two people who are just looking to have a relationship aren’t going to work out.

C: Yeah, it takes away the spontaneity.

L: Yeah, not just the spontaneity but sometimes then you are with someone who you don’t want to be with. So how’s it going to last? Whereas, if you’re sort of compelled to be together…

* * *

L: Wow. I can’t believe we’re coming to the end of this sort of historical event, this year, 2020. Though it’s so weird it was called Covid-19. That always screwed me. It made no sense.

C: It’s because it existed in December 2019.

L: I know.

C: But no one knew. It’s crazy, have you gone back to any old news articles about it? You should.

L: I have something to confess, which is I was obsessed with the news story so early on, when there were like twenty cases.

C: No, me too! Like it all hit one day, when I was reading all these New York Times briefings on the plane. I was like, whoa, it’s spreading. But it was still such low numbers in those days. We had no idea.

L: I was reading about it before they knew that it was contagious. Like far before they knew that. Where they thought people only got it directly from an animal – there was that whole story. And the reason why I was so obsessed with it is because I was convinced that – well, I was very very unwell at that time and I thought I had Covid. In a way that made no sense whatsoever, made everyone think that I was crazy. Actually used all my data while I was travelling on reading about the twenty cases in the entire world! And I was just like, I am dying! The story gets me! We’re all going to die! Sam was just like, this makes no sense. You’re completely insane. It’s so weird. I still find that so strange. I was convinced when it was completely crazy. It’s because I was extremely unwell and probably did have Covid.

C: Do you think?

L: Yeah, well they know now through the poop samples that people in Italy had it in December as well.

C: Really?

L: I was there all through January, in all the busy museums, and I got this very very strange sickness where I just started with a cough and a fever, and it was a really really awful cough. Like I coughed blood, I was really really unwell. And I’d never been sick in that particular way with a cough and a fever. And like a horrible cough. I felt like I was going to die, like my lungs were going to collapse or something. I was so confused. That’s why I was so obsessed with the story, it just seemed really dramatic.

C: That sounds like you had it!

L: And Sam had the same thing, it was really weird. We had the same identical coughing and fever.

C: Okay, you definitely had Covid then.

L: Yeah, I think it probably was Covid! But it was unthinkable!

C: Yeah, you’re perfect for this interview. This is great content.

L: I’ve definitely told so many people that story this year because it’s just so dramatic. But when I came back in February, people were still like, it’s just a media… Like it’s not here at all.

C: Yeah, respectable people. It was like, it’s anti-China.

L: Which was a reasonable sort of thing to think. You know what I mean.

C: Yeah, because they were blocking international students. Like that was a trigger.

L: Yeah, and of course there’s been a lot of Australia-China stuff for a long time, so it makes sense.

C: And now the fact of anyone coming into the country without being in hotel quarantine is unthinkable.

L: Is unthinkable, yeah.

C: Crazy how we’ve just switched.

L: We’ve just completely adapted. Now like, yep, this is the way it is. Hard to even imagine post-pandemic life. Where we don’t have to wash our hands, or sign in to a restaurant, get a Covid test if we get a cold.

C: I haven’t been tested. I haven’t had a cold.

L: I haven’t been sick basically at all this year, except for last weekend, where I had a day where I sort of sneezed twice. I felt kind of unwell, I had a bit of a fever. Well, I felt I did and a sore throat. But it just sort of cleared away the next day. Sam was really unwell, so I thought I had got his – Sam was like, he’s been coughing and…

C: Did he get tested?

L: He’s been tested like a million times. He’s been sick a lot this year which is hilarious, because I haven’t been sick at all and I always get sick. But for some reason he’s gotten sick heaps this year. It’s sort of completely reversed. But I think actually, he said that in previous years he would never sort of give himself the permission to be sick because he would just keep wanting to go on and do stuff. But now because you can’t do that, because you’re like, well you might kill someone if you…

C: Yeah, it’s so extreme.

L: It’s so extreme. So when he’s felt sick, he’s been like, okay, I’m sick. And I think he’s actually been sick in this sort of – it’s very very odd.

C: Like he’s willed it onto himself.

L: Well, he’s just like, well now it’s okay. I’m going to say I’m sick right now. I’m just going to be sick. Whereas previously he’d almost pretend like he wasn’t, because he would prefer to keep living his life as normal. You can’t just keep living your life as normal if you’re sick anymore.

C: It’s rough.

L: I forgot what the question was.

C: There was no question. I don’t feel like I’ve asked any questions except for the first one. And that’s all we need! It was the perfect opener. Maybe I’ll do one last question. What kind of writing or any kind of art do you think will come out of, or be used in future works…?

L: About this period?

C: How do you think it’ll affect the literary landscape or film landscape?

L: Yeah. It’s a very very good question. I think a lot of things could happen. Because this year has pushed so many people to spend so much time with people they wouldn’t usually spend so much time with. As well as taking them away from other people. And force them to interact in entirely different ways. So I think there’s going to be a lot in terms of the sorts of relationships people have during Covid. I think the whole experience of people starting to date someone at the beginning of Covid, Covid happened, then they basically moved in with each other and got married. That is so weird! I think people are going to be writing about that sort of experience for a long time, because I think that would be so bizarre emotionally.

C: It’s like the first ever universal experience that we, in our generation, have experienced.

L: It really is. And I think that’s why in the beginning I was almost slightly excited. Like I remember looking on people’s Facebooks and being like, wow, I’m bonding with everyone!

C: Yeah, absolutely! But now it’s split off in so many…

L: Yeah! I think what’s so strange is that we had that experience, and for that reason at the beginning of the pandemic I was like, maybe people will become closer to one another, and be more reflective. I don’t know, like they’ll feel closer to each other. But I think actually it’s come out the other end and there’s a lot of alienation. And yeah, I think for that reason, there’s probably going to be lots of weird art about that as well.

C: Covid and conspiracy theories and Trump, all in the same very concentrated time. It’s like they all bounce off each other to create awfulness.

L: Under these sorts of circumstances, you can see why people would believe all sorts of insane things. It’s been an insane year. And I think a lot of the problems that we had before in terms of people being isolated, and they’re in their own sort of groups, whether they be good or completely awful. Just becoming completely radicalised. That has all been pushed to a much greater extreme than we could’ve foreseen. It was something that was happening much more gradually. I’m very very interested, and I kind of hope that we’ve reached a crisis point, and that this year leads to things getting better not worse. Like it hasn’t sort of just pushed the worst along. That’s the thing I hope the most for.

C: Well, definitely looks like some things have happened. Like Trump is no longer going to be president. Huge. Also, other thing that comes to mind is that Medicare-funded psychology sessions is up to 20. So maybe there’ll be more good things.

L: There will, yeah. Lots of things have shifted. Lots of people have gotten things that they wouldn’t have had otherwise this year. And I think myself included, I don’t think I would’ve learnt Italian this year without having a lot of money from the government.

C: And time.

L: And time! And I wouldn’t have felt as bored so as to be compelled to do it.

C: And now you’re going to be studying Italian!

L: Now I’m studying Italian next year! And I love languages! Lots of people have gotten weird good things out of this year. You can’t plan, you don’t know what’s going to happen. Sometimes I think – at least there was a point in the year where I really felt this – that Covid was just mixing everything up. Like it was just mixing everyone’s life up. And that mixing could be really good. It has been, for many people, as well as bad. It’s hard to know what to focus on sometimes.

C: And ultimately it is just completely out of your control. Like there’s no personal agency, really. That’s the messaging, but it depends so much on like actually having these laws enforced. Because in America, they don’t. So it’s on them to be really judgey about like mask-wearing, which is good, but it shouldn’t be on the individual.

L: No, it just creates a horrible culture as well amongst people. I think when you perceive other people to be in control, they just start becoming enemies, or you feel this really intense moralising impulse, which you don’t feel when you’re part of a community where it’s organised around being good.

C: Yeah, has leadership.

L: Yeah.

[Both deeply sigh again.]

C: Any last words?

L: Any last words. What are you thinking? You started this by asking me what I’m thinking.

C: I’m thinking how nice it is to be able to talk about it all. People don’t talk about things enough.

L: I agree.

C: 2020’s just been the most insane year, and we’re just like completely desensitised. But like, shit’s fucked. Shit’s fucked in the US. People are crazy. Like 50% of the population is fucked.

L: It’s completely awful.

C: Is that a good note to end on? Probably not.

L: I really don’t believe that that’s a good note to end on! [Laughs]. I don’t know, I was thinking before Covid, I think I was really focused on people suffering actually. But I think since Covid, I’ve just retreated into myself a bit. And I’ve avoided, because I’ve just gotten so tired of hearing about more numbers. I’m just really fatigued and I kind of just want to pretend like it’s not happening. Which doesn’t feel good, it actually feels horrible to be disconnected like that.

C: Just like imagine being the leader of a country that has 300,000 Covid deaths and like not caring at all. Like it’s fucked. Imagine 50% of the population feeling the same way.

L: No, it’s very much a sign that people are just not connected to reality. Not to other people’s emotional realities. People have started just seeming like objects, like they’re playing out in some world. But I think every single human being is unimaginably special, which sounds really – I hope it’s not too kooky of an idea. But yeah, people are just really special, and impossible to describe. It’s so weird but I think that a lot of what has gone on in people minds is that people have just started to seem replaceable or just sort of like shells of themselves, like characters rather than actually a living person who wants things for themselves, and things for others, and has all of this stuff going on.

[Long pause.]

L: There’s no way to end this is there?

C: So… do you have hope for the world?

L: Well, I don’t know, do I? I’m not a pessimist. I just feel very confused now though. I really don’t know. I’ve come out of this year very confused about what’s good and bad. I think this year has raised a lot of questions like that because we’ve had that thing where we’ve had our government be much more controlling, and that��s happened all around the world. Is that good? It has been good? Because we’ve seen what happens when you don’t do that. That’s also a very strange experience, which I have mixed feelings about.

C: We’ve had it really easy in Sydney though.

L: It’s true, we haven’t had to be controlled very much at all.

C: But for a few weeks there it was like, can I sit on this park bench?

L: You couldn’t.

C: It was crazy.

L: I remember that. Or when someone got fined for sitting down to eat their kebab.

C: Yeah, that’s so ridiculous.

L: You couldn’t go out with more than one person from your household.

C: Well, I was still working a little bit, so I still got the train and served people in the shop. So I feel like I didn’t really have a full lockdown experience.

L: It’s so weird that so many shops were open.

C: Yeah, we never had shops shut here. In New Zealand, they did the full like four weeks, no shops, no takeaway, just cook at home, go to the supermarket, that’s all you do. Four weeks.

L: That is crazy to think of. No, things have pretty much carried out as normal here in comparison. It’s just been an atmosphere among people. Like we’ve been allowed to do lots of things but there are places where you can’t sit near people. There’s a lot of cleaning happening.

C: It is pretty chill now compared to a few months ago. It’s all dependent on the contact tracing. You know, how interesting it is to think about all the maths behind it and tracking down this invisible thing that’s been passed around.

L: Yeah, it’s incredible. The sky looks like a sunset almost, it’s so bright.

C: Yeah, it’s strange.

L: On Thursday night, there’s going to be forty shooting stars per hour apparently.

C: When?

L: Thursday night between 2am and sunrise.

C: Oh wow. Are you going to be up for it?

L: I think I will. It’s the day before my thesis is due. So I think I’ll probably be up anyway.

C: Okay. I have work the next day but do you think I could see it from here?

L: Apparently you can see it all over Australia.

C: I don’t know if I can usually see stars from here though. I don’t think I can. Maybe in the backyard, a little bit. I’ll try and remember. We can text each other.

L: I really want to stay up for that. We’ll see some of it. I’ve never seen a shooting star.

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leavyes · 4 years

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the prologue of levi talbot; aka, bringing us to anglerfish and the addition of a new staff member; aka, a statement on a conservator of beholding and how they came to belong to the magnus institute in chelsea, london, having been born in boston, massachusetts.

content warning for abuse, addiction, thanatophobia, and mild body horror.

levi talbot was a graduate of mrs. hana talbot’s school of acting, its drama department giving an annual performance of the traditional hooks-in-flesh ballet ( a wordless tragicomedy in a single act, in the grand scheme of things; to levi, an eternity, repeated nightly for an audience of one passive father for eighteen years ). since he was a child, levi talbot wanted to write about movies, and the history behind them, because levi talbot understood the world by watching through a screen. oh, he knew people and interacted with them on a regular basis, because film taught him how where his parents would not. his collection of tapes and discs offered an appealing escape from the stage he’d been carried onto as a baby: he was a knight, a pilot, a lover, sometimes even someone’s child. life didn’t always play out the way it would in a properly-scripted scene, but that was alright. at home, the scenes were pre-established and repetitive, anyways. a childhood split into takes that never ended with him as the victor. that was how he learned that he was not, nor would he ever be, the hero of his own or any story. and when hana reminded him, time and again, that the films he watched were only fantasies, he became an analyst: for films, and for himself, and for other people.

levi talbot was a graduate of miskatonic university. he moved to arkham because it was as much space as his mother would allow without going ballistic. in his freshman year ( levi talbot had credits enough from high school to finish in three; hana had made sure he took enough aps to reflect well on her ), levi begged a trusted mentor, a teacher ( someone who said that hana simply didn’t treat him right ) for a job in the library, working the media desk. his classes and his job veered towards archival work, towards preservation, and he was delighted. miskatonic had strange old films, and levi learned to work the ancient equipment in the basement levels to watch them on loop. they showed him things he couldn’t begin to comprehend, but his mentor was shocked when he tried. he churned out paper after paper on these films, none of them ever being read to the class, and eventually, his mentor called him in for a meeting in his office, and asked what levi liked so much about the movies. well, sir, it was the watching, the knowing. you could learn so much about the world through film, if you knew how to look. you could break it down a million different ways. films were a treasure trove of information, and levi drained them dry, even the most grotesque found-footage equivalents they had to offer. they had to put a limit on how many times he could speak during class. teachers of other courses he wasn’t attending were sending him their syllabi upon request. i want to do the reading, he said. it doesn’t fit into my schedule, but i need to do it.

levi talbot had a hunger, you see. knowledge was power. knowledge meant figuring out what his mother was doing to him, then how it worked, and how to combat it. knowledge meant making a name for himself at his institution, securing a position, being recognized. knowledge meant producing a body of work so large even death, that final, insurmountable obstruction, couldn’t fully erase him from the world. he handled every copy of his assignments the same way he would a manuscript, preserving them in plastic in folders in boxes. it wasn’t enough. the more he learned, the more full he felt, stuffing himself up with facts and data, but it couldn’t stave off death. he prayed at the altar of cinema for an answer. it gave him death equals redemption, and the heroic sacrifice; it gave him last words and blood from the mouth and the last kiss. it gave him a death in full bloom that meant something, and if he couldn’t escape it, he wanted to go out like that.

levi talbot’s mentor was a man with greying brown hair and a salt-encrusted mustache and thick eyebrows that hid too many eyes beneath them. he had been in arkham for so long, he said, that he’d grown into his seat at miskatonic, and could not longer be separated from it. he said he loved to watch levi. levi said he loved to watch him, because levi loved to watch everything. he said levi could become something great, that his altar could be transformed, and there could be something on the other side of all those lenses watching him back. he wouldn’t have to be alone with the screen anymore. his great love, his addiction could serve a purpose. and if he played his role and served their god, when it came into the world, there would be so much to see that they would never run dry of things to look at. and that god would give him a part, a dramatic, heroic part, where his death would have meaning if it came to that, and until it did his enjoyment of everything he took in would be like unto euphoria.

levi talbot said yes. and he became.

his becoming was slow to begin with. he took up with a man named wyatt, the sole employee of a horror-themed interview-taking blockbuster. a tourist trap, if one were being particularly kind. he took the hackneyed statements of visitors and converted them to dvds and sold them at the front counter. when someone who had brushed against the divine came to them, he broke out the same ancient equipment he’d used in college, and produced a special tape. some of them he kept in bins. some he kept inside. but while there was plenty of strange in arkham, there were not a lot of people willing to talk about it. those that came from out of town had decreasing percentages on whether or not they noticed the shop, whether or not they dropped by, if they wanted to tell a story, and if their story was real. levi kept watching movies, and levi kept watching people. they didn’t starve, and they didn’t grow. and wyatt, who loved only himself, found it in him to worry.

when levi talbot became part of the eye, hana was furious. miskatonic kept her at bay until it didn’t, because she was good at weaving her webs, and when she made her move, all opposition tripped on their way to the battlefield. except for the hunter, whom levi had met at a truck stop on a trip to d.c. levi had done them a favor, and they did levi a favor in turn. they took hana talbot from the streets of arkham before she ever reached the video store, and drove her across the country, way out into the desert. when they asked levi what to do with her, levi said that some spiders just deserved squishing. and that was the end of hana talbot.

levi talbot had become very good at producing, repairing, and conserving films, but their connection to the eye remained weak. their feeding was alright, but inconsistent in quality; plenty of people watched movies, and, while levi’s analysis and growing red string catalogue was fresh in many ways, it wasn’t the terror that the eye sought. and miskatonic simply wasn’t using levi was intended; though they had been the ones to figure out his quirks, they lacked the volume of relevant information to make good on his time. so wyatt let go, and sent a letter across the sea -- a real letter, paper and ink, to impress the head of the institute in london. and london was intrigued. they agreed to take the newly-named conservator. they had plans in london, you see, that such an avatar could advance. wyatt added a final request: that levi be allowed to go to school for the degree they’d wanted, taking the year to live amongst people. the institute acquiesced.

#➢ photoplay expresses the action of the mind! ( headcanon. )#|| I HAD TO BREAK THIS INTO PARTS BC I WAS LIKE.#|| NO ONE IS GOING TO READ THIS WHOLE DAMN THING BRINGING US TO SEASON FIVE.

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light-miracles · 5 years

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The Terryverse: What it's and what makes it worthy of your time

No doubt this is the era of shared universes. Specifically, shared universes of comics or movies based on comics. DC or Marvel are the indisputable kings of the fictional universes. Personally, I was never interested in comics that weren't DC's (except for Spiderman). But no matter how much I read, I've rarely encountered what I like most in a work of fiction.Likeable and interesting female characters.Maybe, if I'm lucky, an LGBT character with a good plot.The few times I find a modest love story between two women feels like having won the lottery (DC's Bombshells is a gift from the gods and we don't deserve Marguerite Bennett). But as Cat Grant preaches, good things happen when you leave your comfort zone and today I want to talk about the gold mine that I found. An universe full of fantasy, suspense, humor, happy endings and what I like the most: women.

Terry Moore and the Terryverse

This is Terry. He's a nerd, like you and me. He makes his own fanarts, parodies, and fancasts that includes Hayley Kiyoko. He's the living proof that men are psychologically capable of understanding and writing about women. He wrote a couple of issues of Spiderman and that's how I decided to find his independent work and discovered the Terryverse, his fictional universe that consists of 4 graphic novels: Strangers in Paradise, Echo, Motor Girl, and Rachel Rising. Soon he'll publish Five Years, which will be a crossover of the 4 comics. You'll wonder what makes it so special. Hold your aunt: all are protagonized by female characters, each with their own desires, personalities, defects, friends and stories. And it has a very highly appreciable lbt content! And they're all so enjoyable, that I'm going to take a moment to describe each of the 4 comics and why they're so good.

Strangers in Paradise:

(a 3 issues first short story + the 90 issues main story)

This is the pillar of the Terryverse. Terry Moore's magnum opus. His longest, most moving comic and full of so many plot twists that makes it worth every page.And it's a slowburn love story between two best friends, Katina Choovanski and Francine Peters.(insert cover)Katina 'Katchoo' Choovanski, badass, intense, highly talented, smart and traumatized. Francine Peters, a loser whose life is a tragicomedy. Katchoo loves Francine, and Francine is confused about what she really wants for her life. Add a global mafia clan full of bisexual women and an adorable Japanese man and we have a fairly faithful summary of SiP.

Echo

30 issues

Terryverse's second graphic novel is an epic sci-fi adventure. What would happen if a disastrous recently divorced woman obtained Firestorm's powers?Julie is a photographer who also takes care of her traumatized older sister, who's at the wrong time and place and gets stuck on a highly dangerous metallic substance called The Alloy. The government wants the Alloy to make weapons to create black holes, and use them to attack China. Julie and Dillon, a man who needs the Alloy to find his girlfriend, have to escape from the government and from Ivy Raven, the private investigator who won't stop until she finds Julie.Like all Terryverse's stories, the main key is the relationship between the female characters. Julie has complex relationships with her sister, with Annie (the creator of the Alloy) and with Ivy Raven. The sexual tension between Julie and Ivy is the best thing in this story. It's advisable to read this comic after Strangers in Paradise, because some secondary characters make small appearances.

Motor Girl

10 issues

Sam is a former military young woman, back in her hometown after being kidnapped and tortured on a mission that went wrong. As a result, Sam currently suffers delusions and has an imaginary friend, a talking giant gorilla. One day on the outskirts of the city, Sam meets a small alien who landed in front of her house. With the army investigating, Sam and her imaginary friend will have to protect the little visitor from another planet.This is the shortest comic of the Terryverse. Something funny happens here: unlike the rest of the stories, the main focus is Sam's trauma, her metal health and how to move on with her life. And still, it's the funniest story I've read in a long time, maybe because of the absurdity of the situation. Its connection with the rest of the Terryverse is Francine Peters's old aunt, who is a main character, being Sam's boss and friend. Being practical is the least important story, but Sam's charisma makes her the best character on the Terryverse.And this has the most lovable talking gorilla (sorry, Mallah).

Rachel Rising

42 issues.

Okay, listen, so far I've tried to be analytical and expository in a critical way but I can't be impartial with Rachel Rising. This story is going to blow up your head and you need to read it asap. What the hell are you doing sitting there doing nothing!? Go read Rachel Rising!! NOW!!

If Motor Gir had the most charismatic protagonist, Rachel Rising has the most empathetic and amazing characters. Really, there's not a single character here that's not a marvel. And I've to add, it's the only story I've found that tells a love story with a guy who couldn't be less attractive, but manages to be the most beauteous character in this universe.Rachel Beck wakes up one morning in the middle of the forest, with no memory of how she got there. She has strangulation marks on her neck and her heart doesn't beat. Rachel will have to investigate her own murder and find out why strange things are happening in her city, with the help of her (gal pal) best friend Jet, her forensic aunt Johnny, and Zoe, a 10 years old serial killer. This story has everything. Plot twists, friendship, true love, family, fantasy, magic, revenge, reimagined biblical characters and many good scares. It's not a story about zombies, it's a mystery inside another mystery inside a plan of revenge against God himself. This is Terry Moore's masterpiece, that story that stays with you long after you finish it. It has the advantage that its connection to the Terryverse is not really relevant to understanding anything, so you can read it individually.

In conclusion...

I'm avoiding talking in detail about Strangers in Paradise XXV because, rather than telling a story of its own, what it does is lay the foundations for the next year's great crossover, Five Years. Francine and Katchoo, Julie and Ivy, Sam and Rachel's gang face the end of the world that was built in the plots of Echo and Rachel Rising. Reading the interactions of all these amazing women and how they met was a delight, and a great promise of more. There are two ways to read the Terryverse. You can start chronologically with Strangers in Paradise, then follow with the others. Or you can start with the best one, Rachel Rising. I recommend starting with Rachel Rising, see if you like the style and art, and then read SiP.Today many people want more female representation in a medium as masculine as the American comicbook. Here is the representation, now you just have to enjoy it.

-Spe

#lgbt #lesbian #Terry Moore #Rachel rising #echo #motor girl #strangers in paradise #comics #terryverse

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maesamine · 7 years

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Dear Beatrice: This Humble Reviewer Literally Shat herself in Surprise at This Week’s Episode Of How I Met Your Mother

Silence hung over the office as everyone gathered in front of the television set once again. Long time readers will know how uncharacteristic this is of our viewing parties (I’ve seen you all in the comments, you scamps). Even then, we knew something was off. When the episode began, not in media res as is the series’ norm, but with an announcement, one that weighs on this humble reviewer’s heart. Dear, loyal reader, who has been with us all these years, not the summer soldier nor sunshine motherhead, but those who have stuck with this site and fought with us in the comments sections, tirelessly pounding out page after page of speculation-will Barney ever come back? Is Monica still alive in Florida, as some astute readers have suggested? Who is the mother?-do not shrink from the dire proclamation I must share with you: This, the 1001st episode, is the last episode of the breakout ABC tragicomedy known to some as “How I Met Your Mother.”

A moment of silence, please, for the end of an era.

It is with a less heavy heart, however, that I announce that this final episode is the series’ best. Finally, Ted(Bob Saget)’s long and winding story of how he met his wife, Beatrice, finally ends, a move that stuns the many Mother-heads whose speculations on the tale’s end had fallen in the “recursive definitions” camp.

The episode proper begins in media res, as always, with Ted, whose status as modern Scheherazade is finally confirmed by the portentious numbering of this penultimate episode, part way through his tale. The children are, as always, enraptured in his story, emphasized in the first of a long series of genius shots this episode, with them both sitting on the floor with the camera behind the pair, craning their necks up to stare at Ted as he looms above. Masterful framing, reminding us of the power dynamics at play whenever Ted begins one of his stories. Often harangued during the day as a stay at home dad, but in a position of power in the evening when he tells his stories, a classic theme for the show, to the point that you’d be hard pressed to find an episode it isn’t present in to some degree.

Truth be told, the rest of the episode was almost cliche in how it stuck to the show’s norms and catchphrases, seeming to echo complaints from the fanbase that the show had begun to retread the same ground as time went on (Not that ratings seemed to concur). It’s almost a season one style plot in its simplicity. Barney courts a lady with a chicanery filled scheme as he tries to keep her from finding out about girlfriends one and two, to the slight distaste of his friends. Hijinks ensue when the girl falls head over heels for Marshal. Barney reminds us of the importance of a suit (A classic gag!). It’s a serviceable, if below par plot, even if just because of the high standards the show sets in most of its episodes.

There are a number of enjoyable bits, even if they are retreaded parts of previous episodes. Lily’s increasing loneliness as she represses her sexuality, with the threat that she’ll become a crazy cat lady (Funny how those cats just keep ‘wandering in’). The ridiculous number of conflicting backstories the bartender at Louie’s has, but each one overlapping just enough to hint at a bittersweet past like some kind of modern The Phantom. Well tread ground, obviously. Then, like some Machiavellian master, Bays pulls the rug our from under us.

Major Spoilers Beyond. I strongly recommend watching the actual episode before continuing.

The plot feels rushed, more than the show’s usual hectic pace if that seems possible. Seeming to set the watcher up for disappointment that this is the final episode, so far gone from the halcyon days of “Hey where’s my suit!”

Then, the story ends. Unlike every other episode in the series, the credits don’t roll. No, there’s more time left. The story is over, but the episode is not.

This is when the uncomfortable silence began in the office. Ted tells the kids “and then I sat down and told you how I met your mother.” At no point has he actually told them how he met their mother. There is no big reveal this episode of who voices Beatrice’s gruff monosyllable responses from offscreen. Ted has recounted an entire history of his adult life without ever mentioning her, all the way up to him starting to tell the history without ever even mentioning the title and titular “your mother.”

The silence grew quieter in the office, if that was possible. I noticed I wasn’t breathing.

On a second watching, you might notice Beatrice never interrupted him from her study. A common enough occurrence, but something to keep in mind as you look at Ted’s football trophy behind him when he looks down and smirks at his children, cracking up. An astute reader will remember episode 997, when a baseball trophy stood their for comedic effect to show that the entire episode had been a self-gratifying lie (Things never go that well for Ted).

The entire set is different, almost to the point of parody. Its as if the set designers had specifically tried their best to do the exact opposite of what they had done originally. Where the books were once stacked sideways, there are now vertical rows of CDs. The tacky art deco is replaced with even tackier art nouveau. Everything is suddenly different. Everything is wrong.

I checked the episode timer here, and there was still five minutes left to go. Forgive me, dear reader, if I lapse into too much summarizing, but there is so much to summarize. I will spare you any more details of the set, I’m sure they will be obsessively compiled on our sister site, but here we will focus on the broader strokes of Bay’s work.

The kids are still enthralled (They always are), taking what feels like an eternity to notice what has happened during the starwipe. How everything they have been told over the course of the series was a lie, an idea often used for comic effect throughout the series, and yet everything around them corroborates Ted’s story. How empty the house feels with every gently echoing heartbeat as the scene extends wordlessly, every actor simply breathing. A bead of sweat drips down Bobby’s neck.

The story of How He Met Your Mother was that he didn’t meet your mother. The story supplanted what had happened, slipping right under our noses. He never met your mother, explaining in every detail what he had been doing throughout his entire life, providing no room for him to have met your mother, constructing an entire world where he did not meet your mother. You are not in that world.

Highlights of the episode:

The slow zoom in on Ted’s face as he delivers his fire and brimstone sermon at the beginning, never stopping until the camera rests on a single teardrop rolling down the usually stoic man’s face.

“Looks like I’m right in the stitch of time!”

How long it takes the kids to realize something is wrong, to the point that Ted has to comically “Ahem.”

The lack of Beatrice’s cigarette on the kitchen table. Jesus.

#Does this count as fanfiction #I've never actually watched how I met your mother #fiction

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pubtheatres1 · 6 years

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Shakespeare’s THE TEMPEST The Brockley Jack Theatre 13 February – 3 March 2018 ‘an enchanting and immersive quality’ The Tempest, believed to be written in 1610-11, is said to be one of Shakespeare’s greatest tragicomedies; a play that examines life, death, the soul, and even the theatrical tradition itself. Controlled Chaos presents a streamlined, all-female production and defines itself as a ‘comedy’. The company’s ethos of redressing ‘the balance of British theatre, by encouraging more people from diverse backgrounds to engage in theatre world’, notably by giving women a chance to take centre stage in the male dominated classics is as exciting as it is important. And women certainly take centre stage here, bravely and committedly performing as some of the most well-known male characters from Shakespeare. There’s much to enjoy in this production: the music that frequently scores and underscores scenes is well-used, and certainly gives the play an enchanting and immersive quality. Also, the earthy aesthetic helps bring to life the world of the island. The use of colour was interesting; Ariel flits around the stage like a whimsical blue butterfly, and the king and his company, all in black apart from some coloured sashes which seem to denote allegiances among the group. The cast are a dedicated ensemble and all work hard to bring comedy and weight in the quick succession of scenes. Particularly enjoyable was Ceri Ashe’s work as the intoxicated Welshman Stephano; great physical comedy and endearingly silly, her scenes with Trinculo, played by Kimberley Capero were some of the highlights of the show. Carmella Brown as Ariel and Kate Sketchley were wonderful opposites as the two island servants of Prospero. Praise must also go to Alma Reising as the goodly old Gonzalo, a thoroughly likeable portrayal of the character and a clear enjoyment and of her words made her very watchable. There were however some things that I think could do with some work. Director Dylan Lincoln was angling for the comedy side of this play, and while there were some moments of humour, I think there were a lot of missed moments. Moments between Prospero and Miranda, and also among the King’s party. Jo Bartlett as Prospero had a natural authority and was unafraid to show the colder side of the character, but some more moments of levity would have made Prospero more sympathetic. The thing that I think most affected me was the pace. The Tempest can certainly be played as a comedy but it does still have some of the most beautiful and moving speech ever written by Shakespeare. For example, Caliban’s speech about the music of the island, and Prospero’s speech after the wedding with the famous line ‘We are such stuff as dreams are made on’. These weren’t done badly but with the quickness of their delivery, the weight and beauty of them was slightly lost. Without the change in pace between these moments and the rest of the play, it could sometimes feel slightly one note. All the ingredients are here for a moving, funny and exciting production. I’m not sure the company has quite hit on the golden ratio yet, but there is no doubt this is a talented group of women, doing something important with a brilliant classical text. I’m sure these problems will resolve themselves as they settle into their run and I’m excited to see how they grow and evolve into this show. Photography: Kevin Kamara The Tempest Directed by Dylan Lincoln Presented by Controlled Chaos Theatre Company The Brockley Jack Theatre 13th February – 3rd March Get your tickets here: https://www.ticketsource.co.uk/brockleyjackstudio/events Verity Williams is a poet, actor, playwright, dog enthusiast and committed gin drinker (not necessarily in that order). Born and raised in Dorset, Verity has a BA in English and Drama from Royal Holloway, an MA in Creative Writing from Bath Spa and an MA in Acting from East 15. @Verity_W_

#The Tempest William Shakespeare The Brockley Jack All female The Tempest Review

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vileart · 7 years

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Dramaturgy Abort: Therese Ramstedt @ Edfringe 2017

MISSION ABORT

By Therese Ramstedt

directed by Claire Stone

AS PART OF THE EDINBURGH FESTIVAL FRINGE 2017

Venue: Gilded Balloon –

Rose Theatre Studio (Venue 76)

Dates: 2nd to 28th August 2017 (not 14th)

Time: 5.45pm (6.45pm)

Box office: 0131 622 6552

Internet: http://ift.tt/Ox1xIU

PAIN, SHAME, CONFUSION!

EMPOWERING FREEDOM AND A MASSIVE RELIEF?

Therese Ramstedt is proud to make her debut at this year’s Edinburgh Festival Fringe with the world premiere of her latest play Mission Abort – a humorous, honest and heartbreakingly human monologue about a woman’s experience of having an abortion.

Strong opinions on the legislative side of women’s reproductive rights are voiced on a daily basis, yet rarely do we hear the perspective from the women who have had to terminate unwanted pregnancies. Mission Abort confronts our taboos by telling the story of one woman’s journey – from discovering she’s pregnant, to making the decision, following it through and getting on with life afterwards. This explosive tragicomedy brings its audience on a laugh-cry rollercoaster featuring questionable life-modelling skills, the looming voice of Donald Trump and leg-dancing to Kate Bush.

What was the inspiration for this performance?

As with many creative ventures, this play started in personal experiences. Before I myself had an abortion, I had absolutely no clue what the implications would be on me and the impact it would have on me physically and emotionally, or the effect it would have on my relationship (both with my partner at the time and with friends). I came to realise women's (and men's) personal experiences of terminating pregnancies is a part of the discussion on female reproductive rights that is missing. We talk a lot about the legislation side of things, but hardly ever about the human beings behind this decision. And when abortion as a topic is addressed in arts and the media (which is rarely!) it is still very marginal, and often portrayed as something fairly shameful that women either regret or simply - in superhuman fashion - forget about.

So I wanted to create a piece that in an upfront, honest and accessible (which for me often means humorous!) way talked about this experience that one in three women in the UK have gone through at some point in their lives. And a piece where the woman who chooses to terminate a pregnancy is neither a victim nor a robot - but a strong person who makes the right decision for herself, but still allows herself to feel and to take this big decision seriously.

For a woman, the life-changing moment comes when there are two purple lines on a pregnancy test - and contrary to what Hollywood rom-coms would have us believe, there are alternative choices that we have a right to make. And with this work, I wanted to be completely free of judgement either way but just shed some light on a relatively unheard perspective. Because I believe human beings empathise with and find understanding for other humans - so if we don't humanise the choice to have an abortion, and actually talk about the experiences, how can we expect other people to understand that choice?

Is performance still a good space for the public discussion of ideas?

I really would like to think so! I think one thing that performance does (or can do) which is unique to other forms of communication is to create an immersive narrative where the audience really can have the opportunity to put themselves in the character's shoes and perhaps understand their path and motivations. This, at least for me, I don't think happens to the same extent in lectures or talks - we might get to understand someone intellectually, but perhaps not laugh and cry with them in the same manner. What I really appreciate about live performance in particular is that there is no escape (cruel, I know!) - once the audience is in the space with you, they can't just hit the pause button if they feel too challenged. Of course, there is always the option to walk out but that is often much more of a statement than people are willing to make...

How did you become interested in making performance?

I actually can't even remember a time when I haven't been making up stories for performance. It was always something that I knew I wanted to do, but I suppose if we are going way way back (as in, to nursery school!) it was often a way for me to create small worlds that were closer to the kind I wanted to live in. One where little girls could wear pretty dresses AND fight with swords saving villages from evil dragons (I didn't know it at the time, but I basically just wanted to be Daenerys Targaryen). And performance-making for me since has just become a way for me to say my piece, but without lecturing or in any way judging other people - I am generally much more interested in raising questions than I am in providing answers (even if I do take a great deal of pleasure in being right when it comes to quizzes and anything grammatical...)

Is there any particular approach to the making of the show?

A really important thing for me was to incorporate a lot of humour, as I think it is our responsibility when creating work on a "serious" or "difficult" topic to make it as accessible and enjoyable for an audience as possible - to make it a conversation people want to have basically! Also, without laughter there can be no tears and I find it very difficult to connect with any work that doesn't have both sides of the comedy/tragedy coin.

Another thing was to not shy away from my own personal experience, and exploring parts of myself that were at times quite difficult. While the play did very quickly become a separate entity to me and my story, even if the events have ended up being nearly exactly what went on in my own life, having my personal experience behind me made me perhaps more daring in how far I could take it and how much I could address in the piece.

And this, I think, is what has turned into what I now hope is a very overall "human" piece - the woman in the play is me, but she could really have been any woman who'd found herself in the same situation.

Does the show fit with your usual productions?

Exploring big human topics through humour and music is what I did with my Swedish theatre company, Annan Teater, so I think it does follow on quite naturally! Previous work I have made have dealt with topics like depression, suicide and sexism in the workplace - so it's probably in there. However, this is the most personal work I have made, and definitely the work that digs the deepest into one individual human's experience - it is also the first full-length work I am producing and performing in English.

What do you hope that the audience will experience?

I hope that they will perhaps understand a little bit more about something they may not have thought of before, and to feel encouraged to openly talk about the experience of terminating a pregnancy. Or at the very least, maybe empathise with and understand the woman who wants to make this choice for herself.

(Of course, I would love for audiences to also experience a connection with the piece, to laugh and be moved - so far people are responding beautifully to it and hopefully there will be more of the same!)

What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience? I did debate a bit back and forth about how to best get the audience on the character's side, and one important aspect of this is the audience interaction I have in the piece - throughout it, I (try to) give them the opportunity to support the character and be directly involved in her choices and experiences (cheering for her when she finds out she is pregnant, hold her hand through the procedure etc) But another important element was to not be too "in-yer-face" and to let the audience make up their own mind - this piece doesn't preach or judge, it is simply showing a woman at her most vulnerable but also at her strongest and most empowered. I also want the audience to come out of the show with a positive, empowered feeling in them - so choosing to also share the positive elements of both pregnancy and being able to make the choice to terminate was always really important for me.

HOW CAN A CHOICE THAT IS SO RIGHT BE SO HARD?

Having previously touched upon the subject of abortion in one of her earliest plays with Swedish theatre company Annan Teater (which she co-founded and ran between 2012-2015), when Therese had to make the decision herself, she discovered that there is a side of the story that nearly always seems to be missing. What is having an abortion actually like for the woman who goes through one? Obviously deeply personal experience that is individual to all women, but with one common factor: not something that we talk about.

Mission Abort crushes the taboo around abortion and explores the ups as well as the downs, offering a truthful and direct account of a topic that is acutely current – and what better year to do it than the 50th anniversary of the UK’s legalisation of abortion?

IF WE CANNOT TALK FREELY ABOUT IT, WHAT DOES “FREE ABORTION” REALLY MEAN?

Therese is a versatile writer, singer and performer who has worked across a myriad of art forms including film, theatre and music - as a performer, producer and PR - with venues including Barbican Centre, Royal Albert Hall and also at the Edinburgh Fringe and in her native Sweden. Humour and song are at the heart of her performance-making, and alongside her own creative work Therese performs extensively as a singer with ensemble London Contemporary Voices. With LCV, Therese has collaborated with artists including Laura Mvula, Nitin Sawhney and Imogen Heap, and features on the soundtrack to Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.

Mission Abort is developed with the support of Soho Theatre, where Therese has been a Young Artist on the Comedy- and Writers’ Lab schemes since 2015, and is directed by Claire Stone from feminist duo Feral Foxy Ladies (I Got Dressed in Front of my Nephew Today and Balancing Acts).

from the vileblog http://ift.tt/2xlG2EQ

#Theatre #Blogger #visual art #Edinburgh Fringe #Experimental Critique

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vileart · 7 years

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The Girl Who Loved Dramaturgy: Campfire Stories @ Edfringe 2017

Have you ever wanted to bang a dictator?

Campfire Stories Theatre Co.

The Girl Who Loved Stalin

@ The Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2017

Showing at TheSpace @ Jury's Inn, 3pm, 4th-26th August 2017 (excl. Sundays)

Campfire Stories Theatre Company’s bold Fringe debut is a lust-filled extravaganza about online dating, hopeless romanticism, sexual repression and the fall and decline of the Soviet Union in the late Cold War period.

A rough guide to romancing, wining, dining and wooing a communist dictator – whether they’re the real thing or a curly-haired soldier with a self-esteem problem in a cheap costume. Four stories of unconventional romance in Soviet Russia.

What was the inspiration for this performance?

We'd just finished working on another piece set in Russia and I felt that we hadn't explored every faucet that we could have. The show's dating website angle came from a lot of experiences we'd heard about online dating - funny ones, ridiculous ones and sometimes downright scary ones. The truth really is about online dating that just about anyone who can be into any kind of thing (good or bad) can put themselves out there and we saw that as a really great opportunity to explore dramatically.

While we can't deny that Catfishing and Stalinism are an odd mix, our experimentation with this piece has really brought out a lot that we didn't expect to see, like how you can incorporate the crumbling decline of the Soviet Union into just about any joke if you try hard enough.

Is performance still a good space for the public discussion of ideas?

I don't think there's any better place for it! The difference between theatre and any other medium is that your audience is subjugated to listen to all of your ideas regardless, primarily because if they don't listen the only other option is to leave and waste however much you paid for a ticket.

It allows performers to put across a well informed argument, and the whole argument, in a culture where it's all too frequent for people to switch off a film, butt in when you're debating, or merely refute everything outside their own echo chamber. Theatre is one of the few integral medias which allows people to actually say what they want to say without being cut off too soon.

How did you become interested in making performance?

Our company is relatively fresh off the boat in terms of making performance, but we've really become interested in devising in the past few years studying drama and producing our own shows as students. I think we were all originally searching for some kind of artistic outlet and opportunity to experiment and that's what brought us together to create performances.

We all have our own individual passion about what makes theatre great and that's what is wonderful about being in a company of seven, as we can all bring something different to the table and

everyone has their own reasons for being interested in creating performances.

Is there any particular approach to the making of the show?

The beauty of The Girl Who Loved Stalin, in my opinion, is the fact that it's a constantly redefining piece of theatre. Our script now looks entirely different from the script we produced in January and while that's a scary thing, it also shows how far we've come in developing it. A lot of our backgrounds as actors is comedy and so we've been able to get quite a lot of off the cuff stuff which really adds to the initial sphere of the show.

It's kind of like a hodgepodge of all the ideas we want to throw in, ironed out to their maximum potential. Sometimes in rehearsals we've found a new niche or element to explore and then spent the next few rehearsals refining it and I've always thought of that being a really great way of designing performance.

We were really heavily inspired by the work of Dario Fo and so reading his plays has been a great way for us to push ourselves further and further to create something really artistically unique while still sticking to those age old laws of comedy.

Does the show fit with your usual productions?

Given that it's our first major show, I suppose we'll have to wait and see! It certainly has links to, and a basis within our previous show called "The Babushka" (no link to the daytime television show, they stole the name from us as far as I'm concerned) which was also a Russian tragicomedy, but we really wanted to bring something new to things we've done in the past and I think The Girl Who Loved Stalin certainly goes farther in its politics and humour than we've ever delved before.

What do you hope that the audience will experience?

I'd like to preface this question by answering first what I hope they won't experience - which is something regurgitated or bland. I hope they don't sit there in silence while our version of Robert Mugabe laments about what kind of a lovelife he enjoys and I hope they won't pass out at seeing some of the more raunchy moments of our play.

At the end of the day, I hope that they see something that they find a little bit off the wall but still incredibly enjoyable and something that leaves them with a lot of questions and thoughts about the way dating in our society works and also about the feasibility of a Communist state.

From a bawdy housewife to a sex-crazed German soldier, this is a coming of age story about loving your country – maybe a bit too much. Boris is a man whose love life has been about as successful as a North Korean missile system.

He decides to sign up to a dating website called "TheDickDater.com" which promises love, lust and laughs but finds himself instead dragged across the crumbling Soviet Union by a gay Ketamine dealer called Grigori who only became a matchmaker because he was promised £34 an hour. Will Boris ever meet his match? Is all love destined to fail? Will Communist rule in the Ukraine disintegrate? All questions "The Girl Who Loved Stalin" hopes to answer.

To premiere at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2017, The Girl Who Loved Stalin pulls apart the modern perceptions of romance in an albeit roundabout way. The original script, written by Jake Mace, is blended with audience interaction and occasional improvisation alongside a biting satirical wit and many wild characters – all played by a cast of five. Under the swift co-direction of Tapuwa Pswarayi and Mike Dorey, the show thrives with a lively atmosphere and aims to leave the audience writhing in laughter and somewhat existential self-doubt.

Inventively staged to be performed on a 4x2 metre stage, Technical Director Aden Craig evokes images of propaganda, the digital world and a cramped tech startup office through a blend of creative lighting, set and costumes ranging from old Red Army military jackets to a flaunty floral nightgown. The cast bring to life a myriad of interesting characters. Aditi Mohan debuts as Valeria, Boris' first match and a raunchy Stalin-obsessed socialite heiress. Livvie Newman bounds from her recent research project on sketch comedy in modern media to create Elena, a haughty Crimean housewife almost always on the brink of an erotic euphemism. Tapuwa Pswarayi glitters as the metrosexual Corporal and Father while Jake Mace puts together an eclectic and witty creation in sidekick Grigori. Mike Dorey (Hamlet, 2016, Discarded Nut Theatre, Theatre Royal Winchester) stars as the unfortunate Boris, a flailing, hopeless romantic whose schadenfreude-inducing performance incites laughter, mockery and an array of other reactions ranging from genuine enjoyment to palpable disdain at Boris' incompetence.

All performed against the backdrop of a glittery curtain from Argos, this summer at TheSpace @ Jury's Inn.

http://ift.tt/2bz27Wuwhats-on/girl-who-loved-stalin

http://ift.tt/2rOPnmpgirl-who-loved-stalin

www.campfirestc.com

from the vileblog http://ift.tt/2t7CWWE

#Theatre #Blogger #visual art #Edinburgh Fringe #Experimental Critique

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