T H E M O N T H O F A U G U S T
I’m 23 now.
It’s a weird thing to write, to think about, to say. I’m 23 now, and nothing, of course, feels all that different. Birthdays grow stranger as you get older, especially after the milestones of 10, 13, 16, 18, 21 have been reached. They don’t feel as celebratory, in a way; sometimes, for people who have the same anxieties as I do (for I am not unique in this struggle, and I fully welcome that), they feel more like a ticking clock, measuring successes and failures and worries and triumphs. For a time, this one felt that way.
But then I sit back and remind myself of all that’s happened. Saving up a heckuva lot of money for future endeavors. Writing nearly 50 pages on two novels, editing plays, editing screenplays, beginning a musical. Receiving an enthusiastic “Hell yes!” from multiple mentors, colleagues, and friends for letters of recommendation. Submitting my work to a variety of places (no questions on that yet: reading periods run for about three months at a time, so ya girl won’t hear anything until October or November at the earliest ). Discovering new artistic obsessions. Long Skype chats with equally nerdy friends, planning future D&D newbie campaigns, script submissions, historical facts. Being entrusted with editing friends’ work. Building up a network. Cuddling my dog. Snuggles and binge-watching with my partner. Football games with my family. Coffee/tea and browsing dates with my mom and sister. Long chats with my grandparents.
None of that is failure. If anything, it’s a promise.
And my god, I’m 23 years old. Though I hate feeling young, I’ve got a whole lifetime ahead of me to create and fall and soar and succeed. So screw you, panic. Get the hell out of here, depression. You may get bad some days, but, ultimately, you are not welcome here.
Thanks for the odd existential crisis, August, but I’m good. Hey there, 23. Let’s bring it: all the manifestation of opportunity, all the creation, all the good books and plays and films and games and podcasts and music. All the love.
Here’s to that.
A U G U S T W R A P – U P
Read:
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Brontë: I do not know why it took me so long to read this novel (the third of the famed book sister trio, the other two being Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights), because it is absolutely my favorite Brontë novel now. It is an unapologetic, vulnerable portrait of a marriage falling apart, of the lack of legal protections for women, of the harm of a patriarchal world, all with the signature compelling characters and evocative descriptions all three Brontës are known for. Though the novel starts from the perspective of a man—luring us into believing the protagonist will be a male outside observer—the narrative is placed firmly into the hands of a woman, Helen. We see everything happen from her perspective, brutal in truthfulness, standing strong in her femininity. She feels remarkably modern, even with the moral asides expected of Regency-era novels. I loved her from the start, with all her walls and all her flaws. She is a revolutionary character in a revolutionary novel: think the effect Ibsen’s A Doll’s House had on its audience, for my theatre peeps (“the door slam heard ‘round the world,” and all that). Like I said, I cannot believe it took me this long to read it. It should be taught and learned with the same voracity as her sisters’ pieces.
Yellowman by Dael Orlandersmith: I read a short play collection by Dael Orlandersmith this month (see the other below), my first experience with her writing. This one was a Pulitzer finalist in 2002; it certainly deserves those accolades. The play follows two friends, Alma and Eugene—the former a dark-skinned woman from cyclical poverty, the latter combating the legacy of being from a light-skinned (or “yellow”) family—as they meet, fall in love, and follow two distinctly different paths. It is an exploration of racial tensions within families, communities, and individuals, an illustration of the hierarchy put in place within black communities by white prejudice. It’s also told in a very, very cool, unconventional way: as a flashback two-hander, the actors playing Alma and Eugene portray every other character, too, and rarely speak to each other. Though I read and did not watch this one, that visual is a powerful one, a visceral example of the chasm created between the two of them. It is a powerful play, and one that people like me—those with white privilege—definitely need to read or watch.
My Red Hand, My Black Hand by Dael Orlandersmith: Again, the ever-badass Orlandersmith uses unconventional methods to tell her story: this piece feels more like performance art, poetry weaving between our three characters. This short play showcases a young biracial woman of black and Native American descent. Her poetry, bouncing between her and her two parents, is stubborn, touching inquiry into belonging. She’s not black enough for her mother’s family; she’s not Native enough for her father’s. She’s stuck in this in-between place, illustrated by the rhythm of the language used: the words are written to evoke, at different times, Native ghost dance, old-school rock ‘n’ roll, doo-wop, and jive. Though I’m sure the play itself only lasts about 20 minutes, it packs a punch. A good one to read if you want a quick, exploratory piece.
Dude, You’re a Fag: Masculinity and Sexuality in High School by C.J. Pascoe: In case you haven’t gathered yet ( ;) ), I’m quite passionate about studying gender and sexuality. I found this thin volume in Sweet Pickle Books on the Lower East Side, and it was such a good read. It’s a little dated—published in 2007—but there are certainly still things to gather from it. In many ways, the world moves at a glacial pace: Pascoe’s observations on the harmful heteronormativity of public schools, on the fear of feminization in young men, or on the need for a curriculum overhaul, for instance, all still resonate, even if the discourse has changed. There are two things that I loved most about this book. Number one, it was easy to read. Some non-fiction is mind-numbingly academic, super elitist and unnecessarily bogged down by big words; this one wasn’t. It was written simply, concisely, and thoroughly understandably. Number two, Pascoe offers suggestions as to how to better this problem. I love when researchers offer solutions; too many just give observations and are like, “welp, woe is us, I guess.” It’s lovely to see what someone who has studied this thinks may improve it. Overall, a great (if, again, a touch dated) read.
The Lotus Eaters by Tatjana Soli: I read this book on suggestion of my mother, who is currently re-reading it. I can see why it’s one of her favorites. A wonderfully written novel of the Vietnam War, the story follows three photojournalists—Helen Adams, a newbie who dropped out of school to join the ranks after her brother’s death; Sam Darrow, a war-torn veteran who gets high on the chase; and Nguyen Pran Linh, a traumatized, tough former South Vietnamese soldier from the north—from 1965 to the “end” of the war, whatever that may mean. The writing style took me a moment to adjust to: this was Soli’s debut novel, and it was written more like a series of interconnecting short stories than anything else. Once I did that, I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was difficult to want to pick up in the sheer inevitable depression of it, for sure: difficult to see Helen’s descent from naïve Californian girl to hardened war addict; difficult to see Sam’s confliction and nightmares; difficult to watch Linh try to decide what means “winning” for his beloved home country; difficult to feel yourself falling into the normalization of violence and loss. The entire novel is a question of home, belonging, family, and addiction. All in all, a great book, though I’m giving you massive trigger warnings for graphic violence, assault, suicide, and murder.
Watched:
Supernatural Season 10 (created by Eric Kripke): Yes, Jay and I are still working our way through these. I’m an awful bingewatcher; you can blame me. I’m excited (and somewhat frightened) to see how the writing holds up in the final 5 seasons, as I’ve heard mixed reviews. Regardless, Jensen, Jared, and Misha have continued their near-flawless interpretations, and I’m delighted that Rowena and the Wayward Girls have joined the squad.
The Peruse Project (created by Regan): Firstly, this YouTuber does not disclose her last name, so know that I am not dismissing her surname on purpose. That’s her (probably smart) decision. Regan is a Booktuber that I’ve recently added to my subscription list: she alternates largely between the realms of fantasy and contemporary adult releases, and has a brilliant way of combining gushing and concision. Though she’s not my current favorite (Ciara and Morgan still hold those spots), Regan has such a lovely energy, and I’ve enjoyed seeing her takes and watching her cozy, productive vlogs. She makes for both a riveting watch and a comforting background hum.
Come from the Grave (created by Shoestring Theatre): Shoestring is a fledgling theatre company about an hour away from my hometown; this—an immersive retelling of Hamlet—is one of their first shows, and my first foray into their productions. Taking place in and around a three-story suburban home, placed in the early 1930s, Come from the Grave felt very much like an homage to Punchdrunk’s pieces, namely Sleep No More. The audience received quite a bit of free will, allowed to follow who they chose. Though I think the play overall would have benefited from more structure and decision, the actors were phenomenal. I especially loved the power granted Gertrude and Ophelia, two characters who are often chess pieces in the men’s game, as opposed to understanding it as they did and do. It made for an interesting evening; I’m excited to see Shoestring’s growth from here.
Mass Effect (created by BioWare): Though this trilogy is a video game series, I’m placing it in “Watched,” simply because I’m watching the journey while perched behind Jay’s chair. To put it simply: this is my new obsession. We’ve completed the first game, and have made a chunk of progress in the second, and I am already so completely enthralled that I have watched and read as many interviews as possible without spoiling the future story. While I don’t feel like I can offer a full, fair analysis and gushing until we’ve made it through all three, what I can offer is this: there is so much near-perfect in the first game when it comes to narrative and character. I would literally put my life on the line for Alien Squad™: the found family of Garrus, Wrex, Liara, and Tali (and okay, you, too, Ashley and Kaiden) is a tale that has been told before, but is renewed with vigor in this game. Liara and Tali quickly became two of my favorite characters of all time, throughout literature, theatre, film, and animation. The depth given these characters is something revolutionary; the game certainly was revolutionary in the time of its initial publication, both in its game design (what up, extensive branching dialogue) and in its treatment of gender identity, sexual orientation, and racial identity. It made me a little emotional to think about LGBT+ kids in 2007 (when the game was first released) seeing queer couples and nonbinary folks appear without pomp and circumstance, normalized and loved as every heteronormative character and couple. Add into that a moral grey area, brilliant world design, a grounding in our known reality, and a freaking good space opera, and you’ve got a recipe for success. I’ve very few qualms about the first game. Like, holy shit, my friends, it’s just so good. Obsessed. More than that, inspired as an artist and a human. (Also, side note: Mass Effect’s voice actors are insanely good, and insanely prolific. Look them up.)
Listened:
The Count of Monte Cristo (Frank Wildhorn and Jack Murphy): I am definitely someone who would call herself a Frank Wildhorn fan. I’ve performed nearly all of Lucy’s songs from Jekyll & Hyde (I could step in for her tomorrow if you need me); I adore Bonnie & Clyde, The Scarlet Pimpernel, and Rudolf. He’s a master of balancing operatic epic with musical theatre stylings, even if his pieces are a little cheesy at times. I know his work well, therefore I was unsurprised when I enjoyed The Count of Monte Cristo. I will say, though, that this is not my favorite of his musicals. I have several favorite songs, wherein the lyricism is poetic and the music loud and legato, but Jekyll & Hyde, Bonnie & Clyde, and The Scarlet Pimpernel are far more touching and memorable, in my opinion. Perhaps the resilience of his style is waning. Still, a good listen, and left my heart soaring at decided intervals. Current Faves: “I Will Be There,” “When the World Was Mine,” and “All This Time”
& Juliet (Max Martin and David West Read): slight funny story: I wasn’t aware this was a jukebox musical, and blindly put it on in the background while I worked on a few things. Since I wasn’t paying attention, I didn’t realize until the second song (the inimitable “I Want It That Way”) that this musical is comprised of The Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, Jessie J, Adam Lambert, and more. I 100% should’ve recognized “Larger Than Life,” but my dingus distracted brain did not put two and two together. Oops. Anyway, as someone who isn’t the biggest fan of jukebox musicals, I have been jamming out to this one for several weeks. Max Martin and David West Read have struck a perfect balance between honoring the true poppiness of the songs while redesigning and playing with their versatility for the stage. Their story, as well—a re-telling of Romeo and Juliet that has Juliet reclaiming her body, mind, and heart—is a fantastic twist on love, independence, and identity, featuring a prominent nonbinary character, love of the older and queer variety, and a calming of the patriarchy. And the songs are absolute bops. Highly recommend. Current Faves: “Larger Than Life,” “I Want It That Way,” “Whataya Want From Me,” “It’s My Life,” and “Roar”
Songs of the People (The Cog is Dead): This is by far the most “different” album I listened to in the month of August, and, by god, did I love it. The Cog is Dead is a self-described steampunk band, complete with an entire fictional back story of traveling from Victorian England to the present day, thoroughly entertaining all on its own. Each song on their albums tells a different, complete story; Songs of the People is no different, each of the 17 songs describing a unique character’s journey. Truly, it’s more like listening to a musicalized novel. The music itself combines aspects of folk, hard rock, slight EDM, and old school rap. All in all, it is a compelling, addictive ride. If you like weird stuff, you’ll like them. Current Faves: “Live to Fight Another Day,” “The Girl and the Clockwork Dragon,” “Never Go into the Woods,” and “The Greatest Team That Never Was”
How to Keep Your Girlfriend 101 (Rebecca Levy): I went into this album with the expectation of more sugary pop, somewhere between Ariana Grande and Betty Who. And there was some of that, but Rebecca Levy very much surprised me with her depth on this short album. She crisscrosses between heartsick ballad and vitriolic, cavity-filled bop with ease. I found myself laughing and touched in equal measure. A wonderful short listen, if you’re needing to emote or need some joy. Current Faves: “Tell Your Girlfriend,” “2:51,” and “2/10 Would Not Recommend”
What’s Her Name Podcast (Dr. Katie Nelson and Olive Meikle): This podcast is a continuation of last month, and I am still enjoying it just as much. Katie and Olivia are traveling far more in the season I’m currently in; I’ve just listened to two fascinating interviews with scholars from Bath. Still well-researched, still entertaining, still a new favorite!
The Life is Strange soundtrack (various artists): If you know anything about me, you’ll know that I am a lover of indie music. Whether it’s on while I write, keeping me company as I traverse the subway system, or encouraging as a slow bop while I close the coffee shop, indie brings me immense joy in its poetry, calm musicianship, and gentle perseverance. In August, I found a decent compilation of all the music used in Life is Strange, a soundtrack that was stunningly curated. Featuring Daughter, Novo Amor, Local Natives, and DOLKIN, it is such a brilliant, brilliant playlist to have going. It will never fail you.
That's all for now, my friends. Sending you love and belief - have a wonderful September. <3
Rhiannon