The B-Side of November

The Curiouser and Curiouser Edition

A piece of the wall at the home of one of the most interesting women I know.

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The Rewind

As I start this month’s B-Side snow is falling outside on the trees, covering golden leaves that I was admiring just yesterday for how long they’d lasted. But now the fireplace is on, and the warmth mixes with the low sounds of college football on the television- autumn is still fighting to make its presence known… even if winter’s boot has firmly planted it’s stance between the door and the frame that was our magical southwest Montana fall.

Amongst the shift in weather, there’s also been a shift in projects. I’ve had the idea for Manuscript 3 for at least a year and a half now. It’s been simmering in the back of my brain- sometimes the front- for months and months and with MS 2.5 done, and a new script set to simmer (luckily with similar themes rooted in outsiders and magic) I’m ready to dig into two new pieces of work that are wildly out of my comfort zone and to test new skillsets in my writing. 

But if I’ve learned anything in my (nearly) four years of being back in Montana… it’s that getting wildly out of my comfort zone has led to some incredible memories, some very worth-it-failures, but always the best stories. 

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My B-Side

Two of my favorite magical self-reflection tools are tarot & astrology- which I can now sum up their importance to me via the words of one of my favorite people and most trusted intuitive, “How are the muggles out there every day just rawdogging life without looking at the astrology?” 

Exactly, girl. Exactly.

The world is silly and scary and shifts so quickly from going a million miles an hour to time being stuck in a slog it won’t dislodge from. Some people lean on sports to represent their wheel of the year and guide their storylines and daily check-ins to pass the time. Others the news cycle for their daily touch points, but for me and a select group of my friends, we check the moon, read our cards, and get curious about the meaning of the planets transiting through our charts. 

Lately, though, through my writing, it’s become something more. Now, its themes and curiosities are finding their way into my characters and adding other avenues for their voices to travel through on the page. 

The more I think about my next two projects that will feature mysteries and magic… the more I think about how maybe I don’t always fit on the ‘Stepford’ street I live on, even if I do believe that I belong here. Even if mine is the house with the imperfect yard. 

Towards the end of this summer, before the air started to shift into the fall chill, I was feeling self-conscious about my noticeably less green yard, unpolished and spouted with dandelions. Then, a friend made me feel better about the ecosystem of the exterior of my house and this little essay has been kicking around my head ever since. 

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The Misfit: Weeds.

I want a wild yard. 

I want an unplanned life.

I want a consistent home.

To walk through a door that is mine and quiet and shared and loud and where every other thing outside of it is untamed and unguessable. 

I want a home base.

I want a moveable feast. 

I am okay with having two sides. 

I don't want to know the ending, even despite how hard I might try to guess it, despite how hard I may try to write it- despite all of that, I still crave surprise. 

I can't recall who said, "I write to make sense of the world," but that is, in fact, exactly why I do it. It's why song lyrics matter and why a film's perfect line of dialogue can buckle my knees- they are all making sense of something. 

When I see love or the potential for goodness, I'm not naive enough to assume a scene where the credits roll and everything is right forever and ever. Sometimes, endings are somber, or the soundtracks are just jumping off points to hopeful forks in the road, leading to more of the unknown. My goals may be clear, but if I saw every uneven stone on the cobbled path toward it- and tried to avoid it- I'd be more likely to catch my heel in a crack I couldn't see, or slip on a too-smooth stone just out of my purview. 

The over-rehearsed isn't the type of living that I crave anymore. It's why I like getting older. It's allowing two things to be true- to like the look of a neatly adorned box while knowing I don't always have to stay inside it. To realize weeds grow wherever they can take hold in the soil; perhaps they don't fit someone else's vision, but they can take root and thrive all the same. 

I want the moments that take root- the ones that grow up in between the plans I made on that path I set out on; I want to sift through surprises, far off adventures, beautifully fumbled messes, and a daily life at home. 

I want to measure moments in the wildness, and sometimes, I want the wildness to take root somewhere as simple as my front yard. 

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Needle Drops, Watchables, and Reading Reccos

Needledrops & Listens

The Songs

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me by Taylor Swift

I was tame

I was gentle 

Til the circus life made me mean

Don’t you worry folks

We took out all her teeth

This is the anthem for one of the main character’s in manuscript 3, and that section of lyrics has some serious bite, just like I hope she will. 

The Band and I by Maisie Peters

And looking back 

All I know is

It was Friday nights, it was video gold

Oh, it was shining lights, it was rock and roll

It was the band and I on a twelve-bed bus

And it was making and messing it up

This song sounds like an adventure. Not every adventure needs to be on the road, but I like how sweeping and simple and cinematic this song sounds. 

The Pods

Bandsplain is back, babes- and in its epic return it’s exploring the Manchester music scene and I’m living for it. Give me accents and long form (8 hours plus) podcasting on a small sliver of a music scene through the badass cadence of Yasi Salek any day of the week. Here for it. 

Side note: please don’t let this podcast ever cease to exist. I’ll cry.

Reads

I’m in the middle of many, unable to stay in anyone lane… so here’s what I’m consuming theses days and hope to wrap up by the year’s end.

In Defense of Witches by Mona Chollet

Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow

The Witch of Moonshyne Manor by Bianca Marais

Faith, Hope and Carnage by Nick Cave and Seán O’Hagan

The Life Impossible by Matt Haig

Watchables

Venom: The Last Dance

Look, is Venom: The Last Dance going to be nominated for an Oscar? Absolutely not. Did I have a very fun time watching Tom Hardy’s symbiote buddy comedy come to an end? Absolutely. Also, screenwriter Kelly Marcel was an absolute gem for writing in a plot point that got Hardy out of Crocs and into a tux… I’m still holding out hope that TH can one day grace the screen as 007. 

Game of Thrones

It finally happened, this little upstart of a show that people used to rave about has finally made it’s way onto my television screen. Spoiler alert: it turns out all those people were right. It’s pretty good. As I make my way through season two I find myself trying to forget all the spoilers I overheard years ago while desperately fearing for the characters I know could all get murdered at any moment. 

Really fun, relaxing times with this show.

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Outro

Did you make it this far? Thanks for reading. November was filled with even more newness, cozy weather, and curiosities about how these final weeks of the new year will wrap up, and where I might find myself in the next… but that’s a cobble stone path that’s best walked barefoot with my eyes on the horizon. See you next time when I’m ready to share another play through of my B-Side.