Big Booty Judy: A Vehicular Ode

Posted on July 31, 2024 by Ryn PB
RIP Judy.

Early last month, I replaced my and my sister’s first car, a 2007 Toyota Camry, with a newer car because the cost of the many repairs she needed done was too high. Big Booty Judy, named for her spacious trunk, was with us through a lot of important years, and we’ll never forget a car with such character. So please excuse my poor poetry writing as I get all sentimental about the past:

With the skin of a sedan and the backside of a dump truck,

You were the car that should have never ever been bought.

Parked sideways across the driveway by the car-buying schmuck,

You dazzled the new driver who would give you a shot.

~~~

A shot to ferry students to and from school

And give freedom to a girl just finding her feet. 

More than a car and more than a tool,

You became a member of the family tree. 

~~~

The tire pressure sensor had been broken for years,

And the aux cord no longer played my tunes, 

But this reliable old broad stayed with me through all of my fears, 

And I never imagined saying goodbye so soon. 

~~~

You ran over a rabbit and dodged a plastic bag.

You survived a night out in the hail and rain.

Though insurance labeled you nothing but a drag,

Your pockmarked shell hid the soul within. 

~~~

The soul of an old lady who had lots of work done,

Who takes no one’s shit and gives no fucks. 

You carried us around to work or to fun,

To go see our friends when their lives sucked. 

~~~

For a decade I was shielded by your airbags,

As I slid over ice and backed into poles.

You took me to prom and my first ever date,

And when I cried after work, you helped me feel whole.

~~~

We two siblings trusted you with everything:

Hundreds of CDs and dozens of passengers, 

Field Day lyrics and mini car concerts,

Freedom and tears and experiences of life,

All safe and sound in your soft tan seats. 

~~~

For all of these years you served us well,

A friend like you who would take us through hell. 

~~~

But Big Booty Judy will run no more

As she’s stripped for parts in 2024. 

~~~

Thanks, Judes, for being the best first car anyone could ask for.

-Ryn PB

Posted in Another New Era, original writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Hooked on Books: An Oral History

Posted on July 15, 2024 by Ryn PB

Hello and welcome to my blog, Poor Unfortunate Stories! My name is Ursula, and I will be your captain on this voyage into reading. Today, however, I have some co-navigators—my arch-nemesis Terry and his grandkid LJ. Every week, we will switch off writing these posts based on our discussions, and LJ has offered to record these discussions in the form of a brand-new podcast! We invite you all to join our new book club, Hooked on Books, and give us your thoughts on the books we read together. It takes a whole crew to keep this ship afloat!

To celebrate the launch of Hooked on Books, we’re releasing a special podcast episode about our origin story. Many of my regular readers have had immeasurable patience with my late and haphazard posts over the past few months, and now we finally have my library arch-nemesis himself to explain how he thwarted all my plans. We each gave our own version of the story, and podcast wunderkind LJ put them all together. A transcript will be available below. Enjoy!

The Hooked on Books Crew

Captain Ursula (she/they): friend to Terry and Joey, easily worked up, blogger and university student

Chief Mate Terry (he/him): grandfather to LJ, always dressed in argyle, retired physics professor

Second Mate LJ (they/them): grandchild to Terry, cooler than the rest of the crew, high school student

Chief Engineer Jessa (she/her): local librarian, endlessly patient, graduate student

Second Engineer Berto (he/him): local librarian, loves to witness drama, dad to three tuxedo cats

Deckhand Joey (she/her): friend to Ursula and girlfriend to Jessa, goes to bed at 3 AM, university student

TRANSCRIPT

Ursula: The first time I couldn’t get the one I wanted on time, I didn’t think too much of it. By the third time, I was annoyed, because it seemed every plan I made was thwarted by the same person. Then it happened a seventh time in a row, and I had to do something. I mean, how hard is it to return a fucking library book on time? 

Jessa: I was the newest librarian, so my coworkers all made me take Ursula’s calls. The other librarians called her the Sea Witch. Not very nice, but she’s very abrasive. The first time I talked to her, I actually assumed she was a middle-aged lady. What millennial makes phone calls when they can just check online?

Berto: Even the Jones-Robbins Branch librarians knew about the Sea Witch. 

Ursula: The library told me again that the book I’d been waiting for was not returned on its due date. I was fucking fuming. 

Joey: I could tell Ursula was upset when we got our coffee. *shrugs* But Ursula’s usually annoyed, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary. 

Ursula: I told Joey I hoped they were getting fined out of their ass, and she just laughed over her extra foamy cappuccino. She thought I was joking. 

Joey: Tbh, I barely listened to her rant. Something about library books not being in. I kind of just laughed when she paused and gave her some vague advice. I did notice she was drinking hot black coffee and sweating like she’d just run a marathon. It was, like, ninety degrees outside. I thought that was stupid.

Ursula: “This is why you should just read what you feel like reading,” she told me, not for the first time. So of course I reminded her that I couldn’t. I’d already uploaded late two months in a row. My readers expect things on time. 

Joey: Ursula’s way too attached to her schedule. Everything has to be uploaded on time. She has to read all the books on her TBR. Even now she can’t stray too much from her self-imposed schedule.

LJ: Yeah, I loved reading Poor Unfortunate Stories. The Little Mermaid was my favorite Disney movie until Encanto. Stephanie Beatriz absolutely ate that performance. 

Anyway, Ursula would always read and talk about a lot of queer books, and it helped me feel less alone. I got notifications when she posted, so I didn’t really notice anything off about her schedule. 

Did you know that a lot of trans people go through a mermaid phase? 

Joey: I think I told her she could just borrow my eReader if she wanted. *leans forward* I can read all the lesbian smut I want without anyone knowing. *leans back* But Ursula just ranted on about all the weird books she’d promised to read. 

Ursula: After the first few incidents of library sabotage, I added even more obscure books to my monthly TBR. A history of napkin origami. An out-of-print Kerri Strug biography. Perception and Image of China in Early Photographs. A collector’s guide to Beanie Babies. All checked out when I requested them, all returned too late to finish on time. 

Joey: She was getting a little obsessed. Started calling this made-up person her “library arch-nemesis.” 

Ursula: I didn’t know for sure it was the same person. But I had a feeling. This was the work of one motherfucker, hellbent on ruining this part of my life. I just didn’t know why. Or who. But there was someone who might know. I just had to convince them I wasn’t as fucking annoying as I really was.

Jessa: When Ursula marched in one morning with a weird grimace on her face, I assumed we’d missed a call from her. Our phones had been acting weird, but the downtown branch never gets anything fixed quickly, if at all. We still have landlines and boxy computers. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the call just didn’t come through. 

Ursula: I recognized Jessa’s voice from the phone, so she became my main target. I smiled as genuinely as I could, which probably ended up looking like a bad Joker impression. But when I pulled the cookies out of my backpack, Jessa wasn’t worried about my weird facial expression anymore. 

Jessa: I was starving. I hadn’t had breakfast that morning. The cookies looked like they were from Vi’s Bakery across the street, and I’ve always loved Vi’s.

Ursula: I made the cookies myself. I’m a shit baker, but she seemed to like them anyway. While her mouth was full, I channeled the annoyingly perky girl from my psych class and offered some fake thanks for dealing with my calls. I made sure to mention that I was in school. I knew she was studying for her Master’s. 

Jessa: I understood the stress of school, so I was inclined to forgive Ursula for being persistent. Plus, Vi’s cookies can make me forget practically any wrongdoing. 

Ursula: I casually mentioned that it was “weird” someone kept checking out the books I needed and she let it slip that my library arch-nemesis was in fact a single person. 

Jessa: We’re not supposed to give out information on library patrons. Maybe I just agreed to get her to leave me to my cookies. Then she started touching my hand and blinking rapidly. I thought maybe I shouldn’t have been so eager to eat the cookies. What if she’d spiked them with something?

Joey: Ursula absolutely cannot flirt. No matter how hard she tries. 

Ursula: I spotted the lesbian pride flag pin on her lanyard and got the idea to try flirting more information out of her. Revenge is a great motivator, and it leaves no space for a moral compass.

Jessa: She said something like, “It would be cool to meet someone who has the same reading taste” and then asked me to do some matchmaking. I thought it was weird, so I tried to change the subject. 

Ursula: Flirting and cookies weren’t as effective as I’d hoped. Time for Plan B.

Joey: Dear God, I wish Ursula slept in like everyone else on the planet. 

Ursula: I woke Joey up at 7:30 so we could be at the library right when it opened. She was a fifth-year senior taking two gen ed courses, so I knew she would be free. 

Joey: I was surprised how many people were waiting outside the library before the doors were unlocked. 

Ursula: As a frequent early-morning library visitor, I recognized a few of the people already. I peered at each of their faces, searching for any hint of the person who always had to read what I wanted. 

When the doors opened, I sent Joey in to sit by the Book Drop inside so I could keep an eye on the drive-up Book Drop. 

Joey: I told her she was getting pathetic and promptly fell asleep inside the library. 

Jessa: We technically weren’t supposed to let people sleep inside, but we’re the downtown location so we get a lot of homeless people coming in for shelter. So none of us really follow that rule. We only kick people out if they’re dangerous or obnoxious. I assumed Joey was homeless since she came in to nap five days in a row. 

Ursula: We did this for three days before Joey refused to come back. Plying her with free coffee worked for two more days. Which was two more days than I’d expected it to work. 

Joey: I’d had enough. I was used to Ursula’s weird obsessions, but I need sleep! It keeps me pretty. 

Jessa: When Joey first came up to the desk, I recognized her as the girl who’d been coming in all week. She had on a red baseball cap and her hair was super tangled. I thought she might ask for Internet access or a library card. 

Joey: On the days Ursula gave me coffee, I was awake enough to be aware of my surroundings. And my surroundings included the cutest girl I’d ever seen ever behind the desk. Underneath the lesbian pin was her name tag, so I knew she was the librarian Ursula hated.

Ursula: I didn’t hate Jessa. … She never gave me back my Tupperware, though. 

Joey: I offered to get it back for her. 

Jessa: I wasn’t supposed to, but I broke the rules for Joey. I told her where the books she asked about were being returned. It seemed like harmless information. 

Joey: Some girls can’t resist the “just got out of bed” look.

Jessa: Okay, so I broke two rules. How could I say no to Joey? 

Ursula: Joey strolled out of the library waving around a pink Post-It note after thirty minutes. She told me the librarian—Jessa, I assume—gave her the name of the library branch my books were being returned to. … The thought had never actually occurred to me.

Joey: I was so tired of waking up early that I decided to Nancy Drew that shit. It wasn’t too hard to determine that all of this recon was pointless. 

Ursula: It was a lapse in judgment! Everyone’s made stupid mistakes when emotions take over. At least I got right to fucking work making up the time I’d lost to my own single-mindedness. I looked up bus routes to the Jones-Robbins Branch right away. 

Berto: Our branch is near some of the rich neighborhoods, so everything is sleek and updated. We’ve got the comfiest chairs in the whole city’s public library system. 

Ursula: It was near the Goodwill everyone shops at for better quality shit from the rich people.

Joey: I left Ursula to her book obsession after that. I had a nap to take and a date to prepare for. 

Ursula: The library investigation had to pause while I wrote and uploaded my next TBR. 

LJ: Ursula always posted her monthly TBR on the first. She almost never left books unread. I could never.

Ursula: I’d planned ahead this time. Right after I posted, I opened up the library website and began putting things on hold right away. I really didn’t want to write another damn apology for uploading late. It didn’t work, of course. Someone had put them all on hold by the morning. 

Terry: I’m always looking for mental challenges. After I retired, I found I had a lot of free time to fill. My old bones didn’t appreciate forty years of standing all day long and bending over a desk all night, so my daughter bought me some fancy chair for my spine. I sit there and read most days now. 

Then my doctor, Dr. Garvin, told me taking walks would be good for my pain, so I started walking to the library to get books instead of reading what I had around the house. 

Berto: We all love Terry! He’s hilarious. He’s such a small guy but I’ve seen him leave with a stack of books up to his chin. He comes in pretty much every day. 

Ursula: I woke up to an estimated waiting time of two weeks for the books I’d managed to put on hold before falling asleep. And I knew. I just knew. I still checked the other titles I’d put on my TBR, but it was pointless. All of them were checked out or on hold for someone else. 

Terry: I’ve never had much trouble with the library or the librarians. I usually pick my books on a whim, and most of the time, I don’t wait too long for a book to come in when I do request them. 

Ursula: In a book-fueled rage, I threw on shoes, borrowed an e-Bike, and furiously pedaled all the way to the Jones-Robbins Branch. By the time I got there, I couldn’t breathe, my mouth was dry, and my pajamas were soaked in sweat. 

Berto: A girl stormed in looking a mess. Her hair was sticking up in every direction, and her clothes were soaked. I think she was wearing pajamas. 

Ursula: The guy behind the desk looked terrified when I beelined toward him. He was clearly used to middle-aged men looking for the newest Tom Clancy book or moms ranting about how LGBT books are propaganda. Not an absolute hobgoblin demanding information on another patron. 

Berto: I thought she was on drugs. They had us take de-escalation training when I started, so I tried to address her calmly and politely. 

Ursula: When he called me “ma’am,” it was the last straw. I demanded to know who’d checked out the book on asexuality the day before. 

Berto: I wasn’t even there the day before. 

Ursula: He seemed hesitant, so I tried to assure him I wasn’t some hate-filled bigot trying to fuck over anyone checking out queer books. 

Mid-rant, the automatic doors slid open behind me and in walked a tiny old white man. He greeted the security officers by name, one of whom complimented him on his argyle sweater vest. 

Terry: I was happy to see Lars and Justice were the security guards on duty. Usually I would converse with them for a bit, but my old bones were a little achy that day. I was looking forward to sitting down for a spell. 

Ursula: Berto’s demeanor completely changed. He waved to the old man in argyle and picked up a small stack of books. “Terry,” he said, “a couple of your books are in.” It was like I’d disappeared, replaced by this frail old guy who seemed too fucking jolly. 

Terry: I always greet people with a smile. It starts the conversation off right. 

Ursula: I recognized two of the titles and whirled on Terry. He looked so smug in that argyle vest, with his halo of frizzy white hair, claiming the books I needed. I pointed a finger at him and said, “You! You’re the one who keeps stealing my books.”

Terry: I was surprised. I’d stolen a pack of cigarettes as a boy and felt so guilty after that I hadn’t stolen anything since. I would never steal books and told the young lady just that. 

Ursula: “I don’t steal books,” the old man said. “That’s why I come here.” His voice came out gravelly and strong, the opposite of what I’d expect from such a small guy. The librarian and security guards laughed at his joke. 

Terry: The young lady stared at me for a moment, her jaw opening and closing like a fish. She looked like she hadn’t slept well. 

Ursula: It took me too long to process the man’s words and then form a response. Not going through my morning routine throws me off. “That’s not what I meant,” I told him. “You keep checking out the books I need for my blog. Do you hate me for some reason?” 

Terry: Could this be the blogger? I asked myself. LJ would be excited I’d met her. 

Ursula: Something dawned on Terry. His eyes widened. I thought that I’d got him; I’d caught him off guard. This was my moment. Then he asked, “Are you Ursula?”

Terry: It was her. I couldn’t believe my luck. 

Ursula: My name isn’t that common, so it couldn’t have been a guess. How did this random guy know my name?

Berto: I watched the whole conversation. Terry was so calm and the girl was spitting out every question like she was cursing. I still thought she was on drugs, so I carefully handed the books to Terry, hoping he could get away from her. 

Terry: I explained that my grandchild had mentioned her website. Ursula was staring at the books in my hand. 

Ursula: After he misgendered them, I asked Terry if he hated his grandkid and why he was trying to ruin their favorite website. 

LJ: I don’t even remember mentioning Ursula’s blog to Grandpa. I mostly watch booktube, actually.

Terry: I invited the young lady to sit with me at one of the tables to give my feet a rest. I answered her questions. 

Ursula: Terry’s explanation was kind of sweet. Scratch that, it was the most wholesome fucking thing I’d heard an old white man say in my entire life. My rage felt a little stupid now that I knew why I couldn’t get the books on time. 

LJ: I was afraid to come out to Grandpa. I remember some transphobic things he said before, so I didn’t think he would take having a nonbinary grandkid very well. But after I told him and answered some of his questions, he was really good about correcting himself if he misgendered me. 

Terry: Of course I love LJ. That was never a question. I’m an old man, I’m out of touch. It’s time to listen to the young ones. Lj’s got a good head on their shoulders. 

LJ: He started talking to me about random books. It was kind of weird, because I’d never been that close with Grandpa, but it was still nice that he was trying. I didn’t even make the connection to Ursula’s blog. Not even when he mentioned some queer books. 

Joey: Ursula knocked on my door when she got back to tell me, “I told you so,” even though she wasn’t even right about the whole thing. 

Ursula: I totally knew it was one person. I knew the whole time. Joey just doesn’t want to admit it. 

Joey: Her “arch-nemesis” ended up just being a good grandpa. 

Ursula: Sure, his intentions were good, but he was still reading my TBR and purposefully putting them on hold before I could. That’s enough to be labeled as right. 

Terry: Ursula sat in silence for a long time before leaning forward, a gleam in her eyes that I’d only seen when my daughter would make up a new game as a kid. 

Ursula: After thinking for a bit—and catching my breath from that god-awful bike ride—I came up with a brilliant idea. If Terry was willing to do it with me. And without even thinking, he said—

Terry: *with a wink and salute* Aye, aye, Captain!

LJ: *laughing* That’s so cringe. 

END OF TRANSCRIPT

Author’s Note

This story was inspired by this video by Gavin Reads It All. It gave me the idea of writing about library arch-nemeses. 🙂

Also, apologies for only including one photo. I decided to change the entire format of the story two days ago… So I didn’t have time to find a bunch of photos and format them correctly.

-Ryn PB

Posted in Another New Era, Fiction Short Stories, LGBT+ | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

TBR Playlist: Pride Edition

Posted on June 30, 2024 by Ryn PB

Hello, hello! I had grand plans for my blog this month. I was going to post a fun story about library arch-nemeses and an ode to my old car that I had to sell, but alas, a Summer Cold caught me off guard and sent my mind on vacation, leaving my ailing body to pick up the pieces. Spoiler Alert: My body didn’t do that well taking over my thinking and acting functions while also fighting off illness. 

So! I’ve come not quite empty-handed to this post at the end of Pride Month with another TBR Playlist. This is something fun and easy for me to put together, plus I can hype up some openly LGBTQ+ (or LGBTQ+-adjacent) musical artists and authors in the process, so it’s as much of a win-win as we’re going to get at this point. I will try to focus on queer artists that are still currently making music (to the best of my knowledge) so that you can give them all the love they deserve!

My vehicular ode and library story are still going to make an appearance, but in the meantime, please enjoy this Pride version of my TBR Playlist. 

“Nobody Really Cares” by Baby Queen: Friday I’m in Love by Camryn Garrett

Baby Queen’s anthem about being yourself because it doesn’t matter what people think (if they even care about how you look/act) goes really well with Camryn Garrett’s book. The main character, Mahalia, is too late to have the Sweet Sixteen party of her dreams, so she decides to have a big Coming Out Party. She’s really just doing what she wants, unapologetically, because it’s not hurting anyone and makes her happy. Though, of course, not everything goes to plan. 

“Sappho” by Frankie Cosmos: Like Water by Rebecca Podos

In this book, the main character, Savannah, gets stuck in her small town when her father becomes ill and she has to help care for him. She does everything she can to distract herself from the stagnation in her life… until she meets the badass and interesting Leigh. But the part that really connects with Frankie Cosmos’s song is that Savannah is now worried her feelings for Leigh will shatter all the barriers she put up to protect herself. 

“Sappho” is all about missing and loving a friend who you really want to know better but being unable to express those feelings without potential negative consequences (basically, isolation as a coping mechanism): “Is it cool when I don’t care? / Can you feel me in the air? / Under the crack in the door, / Can you tell I have no floor?”

“Kool” by Meet Me @ the Altar: Sorry, Bro by Taleen Voskuni 

This is a song more people need to listen to, just saying… But onto the book-song combo! “Kool” is about looking at your partner and loving their confidence, their loyalty, and their beauty. This is how Nar comes to feel about her new friend Erebuni in Sorry, Bro. Both are Armenian, and Nar loves how much Erebuni helps her feel connected to their shared culture. She’s beginning to love all the parts of her identity and is determined to be braver about embracing herself—with the help and encouragement of super-cool Erebuni. 

“Pink Panther” by Scene Queen: The V-Word: True Stories About First-Time Sex edited by Amber J. Keyser

Okay, I love this song. Not only is it punny, it’s also super gay. It gives lesbian fuckboi vibes unapologetically and I love it. So I thought it fitting to pair this with a book also about sex. While this book isn’t a queer-focused book, it is an LGBT-inclusive look at people’s experiences with having sex for the first time. As someone who’s not super into the sexy times, I always find it interesting to hear other people’s perspectives. 

“Honey” by Kehlani: Light From Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki

In Light From Uncommon Stars, the main character, Shizuka, makes a deal with the devil: to escape damnation she must bring the devil seven souls of violin prodigies. (Oddly specific, but alright.) She meets a trans violinist and is like, “Yes! My seventh soul! I’m almost done!” Then she falls in love with a refugee mother of four, and her goals change. They set off across the galaxy to protect their little chosen family and escape the devil’s curse. 

The line in Kehlani’s song that made me pair it with this book is this one: “I came to find, my fire was fate with you / My heartache would stay with you / Escape with you.” How perfect is that? Plus, this book is all about searching for the warm fuzzy things that make life worth it, and Kehlani’s song, in a way, is about reminiscing on the warm fuzzy feelings that make love worth it. 

“My Own Person” by Ezra Williams: Double Booked by Lily Lindon

While this song is more about feeling like you lack a sense of self and are just trying to fade into the background, this book is about what happens after you’ve realized you might not be the person you pretend to be. Georgina has what seems like a perfect life—long-term boyfriend, great job, etc—until one day she accidentally steps into a lesbian indie-pop band’s concert and realizes that… one of those women is kind of cute? While she’s discovering her place in the LGBT+ community, she decides to live a double life so as to keep her “straight” life in tact as a fallback. (Note: Like with a few of these, the sad tone of the song does not match with the supposedly “lighthearted” atmosphere of the book.)

“Take Me to Church” by Hozier: Angels Before Man by Rafael Nicolás 

Angels Before Man is a queer retelling of the fall of Satan. ‘Nuff said. 

Okay, I’ll say more. Basically, the premise is that Lucifer, a beautiful angel, is struggling with his identity and emotions, along with his love/lust for his God. Then the angel Michael comes around and shows Lucifer how to love himself. It’s billed as “part cozy coming of age and part fast-paced tragedy, with a little love story in between.”

Both the song and the book involve a desire for God, forbidden love, and flipping Christian imagery on its head. This song fits so well with this book it’s crazy!

“Wrecking Ball” by Miley Cyrus: She Gets the Girl by Rachael Lippincott & Alyson Derrick

I recently became reacquainted with this song because it was playing on the speakers before a Fall Out Boy concert. And let me tell ya, we moved on from this absolute national treasure too quickly…

Anyyywwwaayyy, pansexual queen Miley Cyrus’s song “Wrecking Ball” goes with She Gets the Girl because both are about on-again, off-again relationships in which one person falls super hard for the other one. While one of the main characters is usually the one doing the “wrecking” in her relationships, and the other is the one who falls hard for someone else, their reluctant friendship still might turn into something more. 

“Would You Be So Kind” by Dodie: Never Kiss Your Roommate by Philline Harms

I can’t remember where I heard this, but I became aware of Never Kiss Your Roommate when someone described it as “if Paris and Rory fell in love in Gilmore Girls” and I was hooked. This song by Dodie fits the book both because of the seemingly unrequited love but also the general vibes. “Would You Be So Kind” is upbeat and hopeful, despite the lyrics imploring the other person to love them back, and that’s the vibe I get from the book as well. 

At an exclusive boarding school, Evelyn finds herself falling for her prickly roommate, Noelle, but she’s intimidated by the threat of rejection along with the potential of the school’s rumor-filled blog (creepily called The Watcher) sharing her secret. (Side note: School-related gossip sites were super prominent in 2010s books. Were these really so widespread, or was it just a YA storytelling trend? I think my school had some Twitter account like this that I was vaguely aware of, but I don’t think it was ever that intense.)

“King for a Day” by Green Day: All Princesses Die Before Dawn by Quentin Zuttion & translated by M.B. Valente

And of course, no LGBT+ music list made by Ryn PB would be complete without Green Day! Not only does this song have the line “King for a day / Princess by dawn,” but Billie Joe Armstrong also sings about sneaking into his mom’s room to try on clothes, which the main character of this book does (only with lipstick not clothes). Both are about boys wanting to take part in feminine things, being in the closet, and having secrets. 

All Princesses Die Before Dawn is about a not-straight boy who has a crush on his neighbor (who is also a boy), his teenage sister who sneaks her boyfriend into her bedroom, and their mom who awaits their recently absent father, all on the day of Princess Diana’s death. The tones of the song and book are quite different, but I still think the pairing fits!

Bonus Tracks

  • “Transgender Dysphoria Blues” by Against Me!: Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg
  • “Manada” by Pansy Division: The 99 Boyfriends of Micah Summers by Adam Sass
  • “Woman” by Kesha feat. The Dap-Kings Horns: Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity by Julia Serano
  • “girls” by girl in red: Orpheus Girl by Brynne Rebele-Henry
  • “Ice Cream” by MIKA: Melt With You by Jennifer Dugan

Conclusion

Well, there you have it! Yet another TBR Playlist, but even better, because it’s gay. Wait a second… it’s gay2! I paired gay songs with gay books… amazing. *Pats self on shoulder.* What a good way to commemorate the end of this beautiful month. 

Happy reading, and happy listening!

-Ryn PB

Posted in Another New Era, LGBT+, TBR Playlist | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Boy Band Music Critic 9: When Facing the Things We Turn Away From by Luke Hemmings

Posted on May 31, 2024 by Ryn PB

Introduction

Last month, Luke Hemmings—of the Australian pop rock boy band 5 Seconds of Summer—released his second album, boy, so I figured now would be a good time to get started on his solo music! 

When Facing the Things We Turn Away From is such a great title for a pandemic album. We all did a lot of that during the pandemic, especially people with busy lives who had to take a break. Around this time, he also announced his engagement to his now-wife. This was a time of change for Mr. Luke Hemmings, so I’m expecting a lot of that to come through in this album—the emotions of positive and negative changes happening all at once. 

I’m hesitant to look too much into whatever news is happening around Luke Hemmings currently, because I don’t want it to affect my opinions of his next album. (For context, I usually do this research part after the rest of the post has been written. I’m so sneaky!) So I’ll probably have more knowledge about Mr. Hemmings when I get around to reviewing boy. 

But you’re not here for a Luke Hemmings biography; you’re here for my expert boy band music opinions! On with the critiques!

When Facing the Things We Turn Away From (2021) by Luke Hemmings

“Starting Line”: Oh, wow, I wasn’t expecting to start with some heavenly piano music, but here we go; I guess we’re jumping right into the emotions. The background music gets weirdly cheery after the first chorus despite the lyrics remaining melancholy. 

This song is all about growing up famous and feeling like you’ve missed out on some things. You feel like you’ve wasted time. “I think I missed the gun at the starting line” is such a perfect way to describe feeling like you haven’t done enough, like you got a late start in life and are constantly trying to catch up and forget the years you feel you “lost.” 

This whole song feels very bittersweet. 

“Saigon”: Okay, we’re chilling here with a slow beat. Very R&B. This song makes it abundantly obvious that this is a pandemic album at heart, if the title and release date hadn’t already done so. There’s this message of how we often don’t appreciate things while they’re happening, and instead of having lovely memories, we’re stuck with a sadness when they’re over. 

“Motion”: On song three, it’s obvious that this entire album will have the same ’80s synth pop inspiration. Which I don’t mind, I just didn’t expect it from a 5SOS member! The only bad thing is that all three of these songs so far have sounded pretty similar. Except the guitar in this one is much more present than in the first two, which is fun. 

“I’m just a makeup of words that I spin” = chef’s kiss! I love that this song talks about not being able to trust yourself, because I feel like a lot of songs talk about this only in the context of a relationship. 

“Place In Me”: Alright, alright, this is certainly different. The simple guitar strumming juxtaposes really well with the autotuned background vocals. It’s an interesting blend of the synthetic and the natural. 

This song makes me feel very sad for Mr. Hemmings… It’s a reconciliation song of the “I lashed out because I was hurting” variety. I can certainly relate to that. 

“Baby Blue”: “I’m on my way to wonderland / Take off my suit and wander in / For a moment or stay for a lifetime.” I love these lyrics. This is a great song about escapism and how it becomes more dangerous when we get older and cling to vices. It’s got a very dreamy feel to it, too, which matches the message well. 

“Repeat”: Ooh, I love the guitar picking in this song. It’s got more character than the vocals, which I think creates an interesting atmosphere. And then the guitar blends more with the vocals in the chorus. The lyrics seem to be about a Past Luke and Present Luke looking at each other and seeing strangers. Not the most original theme, but a relatable one nonetheless. 

“Mum”: This song is kind of eerie… And sad, too. (That’s called “melancholy,” yesterday Ryn!) Like, Mr. Hemmings, why you gotta make me so emotional? This song is beautiful. He’s apologizing to his mom for becoming distant, for changing while away, for not leaning on her when he’s hurting. He’s assuring her that, while he may seem like he’s not as close to her, he’s really just floundering. It’s about missing youth, when you have someone you can rely on for everything. Someone like a mom. 

“Slip Away”: This song is another emotional ballad, but I have to say, all of these songs seem to have the same vocals. There’s not much variety here (though the vocals are still super impressive). Perhaps this is just because I prefer only one or two ballads on an album. But even with the monotony of the vocals, this the third song in a row that has made me feel something, and that’s what good art is supposed to do! We can all relate to seeing a relationship fall apart that we had a part in sabotaging. 

“Diamonds”: I spoke too soon! The vibe has gotten a tiny bit more upbeat, and the vocals are more than just a smooth falsetto. This has “running in slow motion toward the camera” vibes. (Like Harry Styles’s “Golden” music video.)

OOF. These lyrics are… a bit too relatable, man. “I’m so much older than I ever thought I would be … I’m so much colder than I ever wanted to be.”

Side Note: According to Genius Lyrics, this song is partially inspired by the cover of a book Hemmings’s then-fiancée (now-wife) gave him: How Far Is Far? by Alvin Tresselt. Cool! 

“A Beautiful Dream”: This kind of sounds like an organ? I feel like I’m in a dreamy version of church. 

Apparently, a voicemail from Hemmings’s mom creates the voices at the beginning and end of the song. That’s so cute. Certified Momma’s Boy. 

Okay, okay, now I’m in space. We’ve got alien vibes. We’ve got organ music. We’ve got a “time moves too fast” message. I like that, even though the song is melancholy and nostalgic, it’s pointing out that there are good moments, even if they’re fleeting. Which makes the brevity of these lyrics much more meaningful. 

“Bloodline”: Now we’re getting sad again… “How am I gonna know if I’m never alone?” is a sentiment I imagine lots of people can relate to, but I am often a victim of my own introversion and am alone a bit too much. However, I can relate to the overall message of the song, which is that we have some control over who we become if we step back and think about it. 

I kind of feel like this could be a Florence + the Machine song, to be honest. 

“Comedown”: I’ve always thought that Luke Hemmings and Harry Styles have similar singing voices, and this song is also showing a similar lyrical style, with universal specifics, repetition, and changing vocal speeds. Genius Lyrics told me that a lot of the references are to Hemmings’s fiancée, which is another MO similar to Harry Styles. 

Though this is another guitar ballad, it’s got a much more hopeful tone to it. There’s that “life kinda sucks but maybe it will suck less in the future” message that I always love. It’s important that the negative, positive, and neutral all have a place in life, and so they should all have a place in art. 

Conclusion

It’s clear from all of these songs that Luke Hemmings is a very talented vocalist and lyricist, but there just wasn’t enough variety in the music to make me like the album as a whole. Individually, great songs, very emotional, but for a full album, just too much of the same. 

However, I am still looking forward to boy, because according to People, Luke Hemmings said that he “finally found a sound” with this sophomore album. On the promotional art, he’s got fun makeup on that makes me think it’ll be kind of an ’80s goth or dance pop album, which I would love. So until next time, happy listening!

-Ryn PB

Posted in Another New Era, Boy Band Music Critic | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

My Second Favorite Bridge: A Life in Three Bridges

Posted on May 21, 2024 by Ryn PB

Introduction

Recently, while flipping through a book of writing prompts, I came across one that asked, “What is your second favorite bridge?” Surprisingly, I had an easy answer to this one. I have my second favorite bridge tattooed on my body. Then I started thinking about my favorite and least favorite bridges, too. Again, these were surprisingly easy to determine. 

Until I read this prompt, I hadn’t noticed that bridges have played a big role in a few big parts of my life. Though these three bridges are certainly not the most impressive or good-looking feats of construction, I’ve attached a lot of emotions and memories to them. They are more than just steel, concrete, and careful engineering. 

Second Favorite: Tappan Zee Bridge

During my first couple years of college, I went to A Novel Idea, which would soon become my favorite bookstore in the world, and bought a tiny book with an ugly cover.

In The Angel of the Bridge by John Cheever, the narrator is embarrassed by two of his family members. His elderly mother likes to ice skate while dressed “like a shopgirl,” along with having a phobia of planes. His brother, who seems to have a better life than the narrator, is intensely afraid of riding in elevators. The narrator, while sympathetic to his family members’ struggles, thinks these phobias are ridiculous. That is, until he experiences a panic attack while crossing a bridge during a storm. From then on, he can’t drive across bridges without expecting the bridge to crumble beneath him. 

Then, while preparing to cross the Tappan Zee Bridge, a hitchhiking folk singer with a harp gets in his car. She talks and distracts him enough to assuage his anxiety. They cross. Then she gets out of the car. The narrator considers telling his brother about this in case “there was also an angel of the elevator banks,” but fears he’ll also be seen as crazy. 

This long-winded synopsis has a point, I promise! 

This short story was the first time, as an adult, that I read something that described what it feels like (for me, at least) to have fears/phobias that you cognitively know are unfounded but still can’t shake. It put words to many thoughts and experiences I’d had before, and it made me feel seen. Which, considering the narrator is a middle-aged businessman living in New York, is impressive. 

I was so affected by this story that I got a bracelet version of the Tappan Zee Bridge tattooed on my wrist. This tattoo reminds me that I’m not alone, and that mental health issues have been extant throughout time and literature. It reminds me that we sometimes have to “hack” our brains to get through the day, and that’s okay. If I have to do things a little differently in order to live a fulfilling life, then I will. There is always a bridge to cross, even if it’s a bit inconvenient.

Unfortunately, the Tappan Zee Bridge doesn’t exist anymore. It was replaced in the 2010s by the cumbersomely named Governor Mario M. Cuomo Bridge because the cost of repairs and maintenance was too high. Still, the Tappan Zee is forever immortalized in the annals of NYC’s history, and less impressively, in ink on my arm. 

Least Favorite: Indigo Bridge

This is not a real bridge but rather the idea of a bridge. I won’t go too into detail because it will make me upset, but Indigo Bridge is a place I used to work. My stint there ended poorly. Despite the job itself being perfect for me, I was fired by a racist, emotionally abusive rich lady because I called her out on her racism. Not only that, but my friend who I was defending was also fired. 

The reason I count this as an important “bridge” in my life is because this job has had a big impact on me. I think about it a lot. I got that job at a time when I was extremely depressed and not particularly excited about continuing to be alive, so in a sense, that job gave me a purpose. 

Then my mental health started deteriorating thanks to my boss and the environment she cultivated, and I ended up getting fired for actually speaking up for once. This experience left me extremely bitter and hurt. The emotional and financial abuse and their consequences still haven’t completely left me even though I’m not as consumed by them as I used to be. 

In short, Indigo Bridge is the anti-Tappan Zee Bridge in my metaphorical brain map. Instead of feeling seen, I felt erased. To make matters worse, the bridge that made me feel horrible is still standing, and the bridge that made me feel better has been torn down. 

Favorite: Mormon Bridge

During my childhood (and even now), my extended family lived in places scattered around the U.S. South and Midwest. Most summers, my nuclear family would go on a roadtrip to visit as many of them as we could in one go. These car trips were pretty fun. My sister and I would drink Bug Juice from gas stations (remember Bug Juice? That shit was addicting…), I would get lots of reading and sometimes writing done, and we would watch a movie on the tiny TV anchored to the center console (or later, on the small TVs that were strapped to the front seats’ headrests). 

But the thing I remember most vividly from these car trips is crossing through the Mormon Bridge. The geometric shadows of green metal bars would break up the early morning or late afternoon sun, and we would emerge in a new state. When we were leaving, this bridge signified our official departure from Nebraska. When coming home, it signified that our trip was almost over. 

While traveling is stressful and not always fun, these trips represent to me a more innocent time in my life. When I thought everyone in my family was a perfectly good person. When I could live in my head for hours without having any negative thoughts. Whether we were going to the lake in Wisconsin, to my uncle’s apartment in Minnesota, to my grandma’s house in the suburbs of Chicago, or back home to my own bed, I always knew there was something to look forward to when I got out of the car on the other side of that bridge. 

The Mormon Bridge is still there in 2024, but its look is a little different. The bridge’s faded green lead paint was carefully removed and replaced by a safer and fresher blue paint. Even though the blue paint is less dangerous and much prettier, I still miss the old green paint. If I put on my rose-colored glasses, the green paint is beautiful, too. 

Conclusion

A little while ago, I added an ampersand (&) below the bridge tattoo on my wrist. There are several reasons I wanted this tattoo that have nothing to do with the bridge, but the placement of it underneath the bridge was intentional. After I came to terms with everything that happened at Indigo Bridge, I realized that every bridge I’ve had to cross in my life (whether literal or metaphorical) has led to something more. And I’m finally excited for that something more. I’m excited that there will be an “and” even after negative experiences. Even if that “and” includes negative experiences. 

Whether for a job, a road trip, or a mental health journey, I will have to cross many more bridges in my life. One day, I’ll cross a bridge to find that the grass really is greener on the other side. 

-Ryn PB

Posted in Another New Era, mental health, original writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Consequences of a Con

Posted on May 16, 2024 by Ryn PB

Cornhusker Cons: Psychics, Clairvoyants, and Mystics in the Heartland. Fran had never actually read the book in which their father’s scams had been made public. An entire chapter had been dedicated to him and his two partners.

“Just put that back, babe.You won’t gain anything by reading that.” Dal-Rae reshelved the book on Black fashion history she’d been looking at to join her girlfriend at the Metaphysics shelf in the corner. 

Fran shook their head, clutching the book with both hands, and continued staring at the black-and-white seance photo on the cover. No one had believed in their dad more than they had. They’d witnessed many of his consultations and had often joined in his rituals when they were younger. They would sit cross-legged on the floor facing each other. Fran’s dad would hold his hands palms up, and Fran would place their hands over his. They remembered how rough his hands felt, how small they seemed even to a young Fran, and that he never held their hands, only kept them pressed together. Their dad would close his eyes, prompting Fran to do the same, but Fran had never been any good at sitting still without stimulation, so they usually opened their eyes. 

Their dad would take a big breath, and soon Fran would start to feel something like static electricity between their hands. His eyes would dart from side to side beneath his eyelids, as if frantically searching for something in the dark. Then would come the breeze, making their dad’s hair seem alive as it twitched in indecision—would the ethereal wind win, or the cheap Walgreens hair gel? 

Now, standing here in this bookstore, they for once let themself question how many of their memories were just wishful thinking. It couldn’t all be fake. 

Dal-Rae pried the book from their hands and set it aside on a rocking chair. The basement of this little bookstore housed all of the nonfiction along with a few ugly rugs, mismatched chairs, and a patchy cat content to lie down on a shelf and watch over the shoppers. 

Underneath the “Psychics” shelf was a half-full shelf labeled “Ghosts/Afterlife.” One book, smaller than the others, boasted the title Haunted Cemeteries.

Fran looked up at the cat. It blinked its deep brown eyes slowly before letting out a small meow. It was decided, then. They would take the cat’s advice. “Let’s go to the cemetery tonight.” 

~ ~ ~ 

“If there were any ghosts itching to talk to us, they’d have shown up by now.” Dal-Rae had long since run out of daylight to do anything but complain. When she’d put on her tight, pink denim skirt that morning, she hadn’t factored in a night of sitting on the moist grass, muscles tensed in case she needed to run from some crazy person. Because only crazy people would hang out in cemeteries at night. Which made her crazy. And Fran. 

Fran snapped another photo on their film camera, though even with a flash, Dal-Rae wasn’t sure what they were hoping to capture. She wasn’t fixing to stay there overnight. 

“Not necessarily,” Fran said. “Once, I was with some friends at a haunted barn a couple hours away. There was supposedly a meteor shower that night, but I didn’t see any meteors when we were laying in the back of Janie’s truck. There was also a cute family of foxes that burrowed under a tree.” They paused and refocused at the sight of Dal-Rae’s raised eyebrows. “Anyways, we took a recording, and even though it was silent while I was there, the recording had voices when I listened to it.” 

Remembering all the times Fran had dealt with naysayers, Dal-Rae kept herself from snorting and instead asked, “What did the voices say?”

They let go of their camera and let it hang around their neck, turning to face their girlfriend. She was sitting in front of a gravestone with the name “Jeffrey Rainey” etched onto it. When their dad had brought them here, Fran would distract themself by making up stories for the dead souls. Jeff Rainey owned a pawpaw orchard and was on the run from a secret society of librarians. Beyond him was Anastasia Reynolds, an ancestor of the lost Romanov, who married a children’s book publisher.

“Something about a cow and a hatchet. Oh! And the name Garfield.”

“Not McDonald?”

Fran laughed at Dal-Rae’s comment, unaware that it was made derisively. 

Feeling a little bad, Dal-Rae patted her lap so that Fran could sit without getting wet. Fran plopped down, their bony ass digging into Dal-Rae’s thigh. She hugged Fran and kissed the back of their neck. “Tell me more about the barn ghosts,” she said. 

“Not much else happened,” Fran admitted. “But Janie Davis and I did have fun rolling around in the hay.”

Dal-Rae pinched Fran’s sides and they laughed again, squirming in their girlfriend’s lap. Then both of them froze. From the rows of gravestones and random trees behind them came an eerie moaning sound. 

Without missing a beat, Fran raised their camera over Dal-Rae’s head and snapped a photo into the darkness. 

“Did you hear that?” they whispered. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Dal-Rae answered, pushing Fran off her lap.

Fran caught themself on all fours while Dal-Rae stood up. The creepy noise wasn’t a deterrent for them, but rather an encouragement. “That came from the direction of the Kneeling Lady,” they said. “I’m gonna check it out.”

“You’re what?” Dal-Rae grabbed Fran’s sleeve. Unfortunately, the tiger-print robe they wore over their outfit was silky and slipped right out of her fingers. 

Fran weaved between trees and gravestones with ease despite the lack of moonlight. They heard another noise, more like a whisper, as they approached the Kneeling Lady. 

The Kneeling Lady was just as it sounded—a statue of a kneeling lady. Atop a slab, a gray woman draped in fabric knelt on one knee. Her bare feet peeked out from under the stone-carved dress. Her hands rested on her front leg, but instead of looking down in mourning or up in hope, the Kneeling Lady stared straight forward, over the heads of anyone who stood in front of her. 

Instead of admiring the Kneeling Lady, Fran stood next to her and followed her gaze. The Kneeling Lady looked out onto the uniform rows of military graves, all made of the same small white headstone. No trees, just grass and a short obelisk explaining the importance of the memorial site. Just beyond the obelisk, Fran spotted what looked like an odd mist. 

Since their dad had spent those few months in jail, Fran had had trouble experiencing anything supernatural. Usually they saw wonder everywhere. Now, it was just… well, what everyone else saw. But now, this. This undulating, whispering mist. 

“Hello?” they said just loud enough for it not to be a whisper. The mist continued to ripple in the air near the obelisk. A soldier’s ghost? An upset widow haunting her husband’s grave? A random, wandering spirit who just happened to be there? “My name is Fran. Are you lost?”

“Who are you talking to?” Dal-Rae appeared by Fran’s side, out of breath from her jog to catch up. 

Startled by their girlfriend, Fran quickly looked back at the obelisk only to find that the mist had disappeared. They stamped their Ugg-boot-clad foot. “Damn!”

Dal-Rae squinted at the obelisk. “What?” 

Fran shook their head and leaned against the Kneeling Lady, eyes closed, trying not to cry. Dal-Rae was used to Fran’s big emotions, but not to Fran attempting to hide them. She grabbed Fran’s hand and shook their arm. “Babe. Talk to me.” She brought Fran’s hand up to her lips to kiss it. 

Fran reluctantly opened their eyes, glancing once more at the now lonely obelisk, and conceded. “Let’s get ice cream.”

~ ~ ~ 

At their regular table at The Dairy Goddess, Fran licked baby blue ice cream off their hand.

Both sat on the same side of the booth, and with their free hand, Fran played with one of Dal-Rae’s earrings. 

“I love cotton candy ice cream,” Fran said suddenly. “It tastes exactly like cotton candy. Like, cake batter ice cream tastes a little different, right? But cotton candy is such a fake—no synthetic. It’s a synthetic flavor. So it’s easy to replicate. Like Dr. Pepper.”

Dal-Rae snorted, not enjoying her own plain vanilla ice cream as much as she wanted to. She was still thinking about Fran’s strange behavior in the cemetery. Although, Fran had once given her a bird skull out of the blue, so maybe this was just a part of Fran she hadn’t encountered yet. She was always finding more of those. 

“My aunt loves Dr. Pepper,” Fran said, dropping their hand from their girlfriend’s ear. “Or at least she did when I lived with her.” 

“Whatever happened with her?” Dal-Rae stuck her spoon into her ice cream and pushed the dish aside. “You only lived there for a couple weeks before you moved in with your grandpa.”

“Actually, it was only three days. Then she sent me to a group home,” Fran said through a bite of synthetic flavor. “Pop only got me out when I called him. I never even got my clothes back.” 

Fran had always trusted and respected their dad, and in turn, their dad had trusted and respected them. Being open to otherworldly experiences engendered a certain amount of comfort with the unknown and necessitated a belief in others’ experiences despite having no physical evidence. But for their dad’s sister, this was all a sign of mental instability being passed from father to child. 

For Fran, the supernatural and their identity had always been linked, so when their dad was outed as a fraud, they doubted everything they thought they knew about themself. They stopped dressing and acting flamboyantly. They stopped seeing spirits. They stopped standing up for themself.

After moving in with their grandpa, Fran was able to rectify two of those things. But Pop didn’t believe in the supernatural, and Fran wasn’t sure how to look at the world on their own. So they’d picked up a camera. 

At The Dairy Goddess, Fran fiddled with their camera’s settings. Dal-Rae was waiting for them to say more. Fran always had a “more” to say. “I miss my dad,” they admitted. “I know I’m not supposed to, because he was in jail and lied to people and everything, but he was the first person—the only person—”

Dal-Rae put a hand on their shoulder to show them she understood without a struggle to find the right words. Her touch grounded them; they took a calming breath. “So what did you see earlier?” she asked. 

Fran’s eyes lit up. “A ghost, or a spirit, I think. Not a full-bodied apparition or anything. You know what? When we get home, we should develop these photos to see if anything else shows up on film. Just because I couldn’t see it doesn’t mean my camera didn’t pick anything up.”

“Like the barn ghosts,” Dal-Rae said.

“Exactly.” Fran shoved the rest of their ice cream into their mouth, wiping their hands and face clean with a clump of napkins. They reached over to grab Dal-Rae’s melted ice cream and gathered all the trash to throw away. As they stood, their foot caught on Dal-Rae’s bag and knocked it over, spilling its contents. 

Out came two lipsticks, a wallet, a cell phone, and a book. Holding all the trash precariously in one hand, Fran bent down. “Ooh, what are you reading?” 

“Nonono don’t!” She was too late. Fran flipped the book over and straightened up to look at it.

Fran chucked the trash hard into the garbage bin and raised their arm to throw the book in, too. Dal-Rae rushed over to hold them back. “Babe, wait. I just wanted to help.” She gently took the book out of Fran’s hand, setting aside Cornhusker Cons on the table behind her. 

“But you told me the book wouldn’t help.” Fran crossed their arms, refusing to turn around and instead staring into the garbage. The melted vanilla ice cream had splattered all over the black bag. It looked a little like an avant-garde art piece about environmentalism. Or the poor diets of modern society. They thought about buying a black jacket and splashing white paint on it. Or black pants, maybe. Dal-Rae could probably make it look more artsy than messy if they asked.

“I know. I’m sorry. But isn’t it better that I got it rather than let someone else buy it?” This was what Dal-Rae had told herself while Fran was petting the cat instead of paying attention to her. If she were being entirely truthful, she would have admitted that she wanted to read it. The pang of guilt in her chest reminded her of Fran’s expression in the bookstore—heartbroken. She put a hand on Fran’s shoulder, and they turned around, jaw clenched.

Dal-Rae picked up the book, opened it, and then tore it in half. Well, she tried to, at least. The book was surprisingly resistant to her efforts, even as she gritted her teeth and pulled harder. It was just paper, right? Fran reluctantly smiled and uncrossed their arms. They took the book from their girlfriend before she got frustrated and easily ripped it in half, holding the disconnected pages up triumphantly. And then—

“Will you do a ritual with me?” 

~ ~ ~ 

With their photos developing in the bathroom-turned-darkroom, Fran sat down cross-legged across from Dal-Rae on the floor of their grandpa’s living room. They’d lit seven candles, because seven was their favorite number—along with the fact that they could only find seven candles in Pop’s house. 

Fran held their hands palm up, and Dal-Rae placed her hands over theirs. Her hands were soft and warm and a little sweaty. They didn’t hold her hands, only kept them pressed together. They prompted their girlfriend to close her eyes and admired how beautiful she was before closing their own eyes. They took a big breath and soon began to feel something like static electricity between their hands. 

Then came the breeze. 

-Ryn PB

Posted in Another New Era, Fiction Short Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

TBR Playlist: K-Pop Edition

Posted on May 8, 2024 by Ryn PB

A couple years ago, I randomly clicked on this recommended YouTube video and subsequently fell into the endless abyss that is K-pop. Well, it’s more like falling into a black hole that turns out to be a wormhole to another dimension. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to do a TBR Playlist featuring some of my favorite K-pop artists. 

For this K-pop edition of TBR Playlist, I picked only books by Asian authors, not because there are no other books out there that I could pair with these K-pop songs, but because this feels like the perfect opportunity to talk about Asian artists all together. I’m always trying to diversify my reading and have only recently tried to do the same with my listening. So here’s a beautiful mashup of those two goals as it pertains to Asian artists!

“피 땀 눈물” (Blood Sweat & Tears)” by BTS: The Knockout by Sajni Patel

This is the song that really got me into BTS, which in turn led me to other K-pop groups and idols, so I wanted this to be the first song included on the list. The song is more about giving into a temptation that you know may be bad for you, while The Knockout is more about going for a dream despite damage it may cause. However, The Knockout and “Blood Sweat & Tears” both offer physical exertion and emotional longing as two sides of the same coin. 

In The Knockout, Kareena feels ostracized by her Indian community as she pursues an Olympic career in Muay Thai. At the same time, Kareena ends up falling for “the world’s most perfect Indian” Amit Patel, whose parents surely would not approve of a hardcore, scrappy fighter as their son’s partner. She fights for both things, even if it means facing her physical and emotional fears. 

“Queencard” by (G)I-DLE: I’ll Be the One by Lyla Lee

Most of (G)I-DLE’s songs are all about confidence, femininity, and overcoming insecurities, which are exactly the themes of I’ll Be the One by Lyla Lee. “Queencard” encompasses all of those things with a badass “I’m sexy and I’m not sorry about it” vibe.

In I’ll Be the One, Skye Shin enters a competition show to become the next K-pop star despite the fact that fat girls aren’t supposed to dance or sing or call attention to themselves. Despite the intensity of the K-pop industry’s beauty standards, the strange kind of fame that comes from reality TV, and the crush she develops on one of her competitors, Skye is determined to become a K-pop star in order to set an example for other plus-sized girls who have been told only what they shouldn’t do. 

“UNFORGIVEN (feat. Nile Rodgers)” by LE SSERAFIM: The Miracles of the Namiya General Store by Keigo Higashino 

This song by LE SSERAFIM is all about being outcasts, casting aside the stupid rules of society and doing it together. It’s about extending a hand to those who need it and encouraging people to be themselves. Which is why it fits perfectly with The Miracles of the Namiya General Store, a story full of magical realism, transformative kindness, and community with like-minded strangers. Three robbers hole up in an abandoned general store where a letter requesting advice is delivered. The trio pretend to be the former shopkeeper and offer advice to the letter writers, all the while looking deep into themselves and at humanity. 

“Anti-Romantic” by TOMORROW x TOGETHER: I Married My Best Friend to Shut My Parents Up by Kodama Naoko

Kodama Naoko’s yuri (or “girls love”) manga series is about working girl Morimoto, who is tired of her parents nagging her about getting married and settling down with a guy. Then her best friend comes up with the perfect solution: get married to each other. As you might expect, this fake marriage ends up becoming emotionally complicated. The reason I think this manga fits with “Anti-Romantic” is partially because Morimoto seems like a character that focuses on her career and shuns romantic love. The “hardworking career gal” type. Even though “Anti-Romantic” seems to be about someone who lost belief in love after a breakup, a lot of the song could apply to a situation in which practicality and emotions are at odds. 

“방화 (Arson)” by j-hope: She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan

In the description of this book, one particular sentence made me think of this song: “I refuse to be nothing…” In a retelling of the life of the Ming Dynasty’s first emperor, an orphaned girl takes on her brother’s identity, joins a monastery, and goes after the greatness foretold for him—eschewing the nothingness left for her. Both this song and this book are about going after greatness no matter the cost, though j-hope’s song focuses more on artistic greatness than political power. 

“Free Falling” by TOMORROW x TOGETHER: The Art of Prophecy by Wesley Chu

In The Art of Prophecy, Jian is the Chosen One: a hero prophesied to defeat a god-king and save his kingdom. However, Jian has grown up spoiled and coddled. War expert Taishi arrives to whip this unprepared boy into shape. With surprising kindness and strict training, Taishi takes Jian on a journey to become the person he was meant to be. This book pairs well with this song because it’s about taking a leap, trusting someone despite your fears, flying “farther, even farther, bit by bit … until we reach the sky.” 

(I was tempted to pair this song with the graphic novel The Star Seekers by HYBE since that’s what the music video is based on, but I didn’t want to be too obvious. However, The Star Seekers is also on my TBR!)

“D-Day” by Agust D: No-No Boy by John Okada

Even ignoring the WWII connection, these are two sides of the same story. “D-Day” is about the overcoming of hardships, slapping someone in the face and saying, “You can push down those barriers,” and believing in the philosophy of “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” No-No Boy is the part before you can look back, the part where the hardships seem to be over but you don’t know how to move on from them. Okada’s novel is about a Japanese-American “no-no boy,” someone who refused to fight for the U.S. Army in WWII while also standing by their Japanese heritage. This “no-no boy” spent two years in an internment camp and two years in prison, and now has to continue living life, whatever that means. The future might be okay, but the present is still a big question mark. 

“Mixtape: Time Out” by Stray Kids: Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi

Stray Kids created a perfect meandering pop rock song with “Mixtape: Time Out.” And while I still think this song would pair well with a road trip book, I do think its relaxed, “take time out to chill and live in the moment” vibe fits with this book. The book involves a cafė, time travel, and short glimpses into people’s lives and desires. It’s about going back to a single, short moment, just like the song is about living in that single, short moment, no matter how fleeting. It’s being present versus having regrets. Both hinge on the importance of a single moment, the former placing emphasis on joy and the latter placing emphasis on hindsight. 

BONUS:

  • “Christmas Tree” by V: What You Are Looking for is in the Library by Michiko Aoyama 
    • Why They Fit: Emotional, appreciating the little things, expressing love
  • “OMG” by NewJeans: Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan 
    • Why They Fit: Surprising and overwhelming love, women taking charge of their lives
  • “You’re Beautiful” by The Rose: My Androgynous Boyfriend by Tamekou
    • Why They Fit: Beautiful couple, feeling lucky to be together
  • “Stay Alive (prod. SUGA)” by Jung Kook: Wicked Fox by Kat Cho
    • Why They Fit: High stakes, holding each other’s lives in the balance
  • “Alien (HAN)” by Stray Kids: 집에 있는데도 집에 가고 싶어 (I Want to Go Home Even Though I’m at Home) by 권라빈 (Kwon Rabin)
    • Why They Fit: Feeling like an outcast, making do with what you have and who you are
  • “Hair Cut” by Xdinary Heroes: I Decided to Live as Me by Kim Suhyun
    • Why They Fit: Cut out the bad things in life, be yourself despite what society says
  • “seoul (prod. HONNE)” by RM: The Girl Who Fell Beneath The Sea by Axie Oh
    • Why They Fit: Self-discovery, love-hate relationship with the place in which you end up

So… I intended to make the main “playlist” ten songs and the bonuses five, but I ran out of time (a.k.a. I was already a day late posting this and couldn’t make my brain work properly to form thoughts), so we’ll have to settle with an 8:7 ratio instead. In order to compensate for this, I added the tiny “Why They Fit” parts to the bonuses. 

I also did my best not to repeat artists, though you’ll probably notice a few solo songs by members of BTS… I can’t deny that I’m ARMY through and through. 보라해! (I purple you!) 

I’ll probably do another K-pop edition of TBR Playlist at some point, but here is the first installation of my K-pop TBR Playlist. I hope you enjoy and find something that piques your interest. 

Happy reading, and happy listening!

-Ryn PB

You’re welcome.

Note:
I used doolset lyrics for translations of BTS and BTS members’ songs. For others, I used Genius Lyrics as needed.

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My First Encounter with the Word “Queer”: The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Posted on April 30, 2024 by Ryn PB

I don’t have a great memory, but one that has stuck with me is the first time I consciously encountered the word “queer.” Young Ryn was under their floral covers, propped up on two pillows, and talking to their dad about the best part of their day. On their lap was an open book they’d just been reading. After mentioning the best of their day—maybe it was a good breakfast, or a compliment from a teacher, or perhaps that moment right before their dad came in—the conversation turned to what Ryn was reading: The Secret Garden. 

“I learned what the word ‘queer’ means,” Young Ryn mentioned. 

With a slightly panicked look, their dad asked, “And what does it mean?”

“Weird,” Ryn answered confidently, proud of their use of context clues. 

Now, Older Ryn understands the panic on his dad’s face. “Queer” was (and still is) used as a derogatory term for people in the LGBTQ+ community. Not a word you want your tween child learning about. However, this memory is one I’ve gone back to as an adult who has figured out and accepted their own queer identity and is okay identifying with that word. 

Most queer people have moments they look back on and think, “how did I not know I was queer?” For example, I went through a phase in high school in which I would wear shorts under sagging pajama pants, inadvertently mimicking dudes who wore baggy pants that made their boxers visible. There was also the time I tried on shorts from the “boys” section at the store, and when my mom pointed out that they made me look masculine, I couldn’t figure out why someone might consider that a problem. 

This early encounter with the word “queer” is adjacent to those moments, in that it doesn’t really indicate any sign of being non-cishet, but it is one that has taken on a new meaning as I’ve grown up. 

Recently, I had the chance to get a copy of The Secret Garden for free and promptly re-read it to see if I could figure out why “queer” is the word I remember learning from a book. And it’s no wonder that’s the one I wanted to figure out! The word “queer” is used as a word for “strange” or “peculiar” almost every other page in The Secret Garden. Sometimes, being “queer” is a point of pride or individuality in the book. Other times, it’s a negative trait that needs to be changed, like the “quite contrary” Mary who has to learn how to respect other people. 

One thing that stood out to me on this re-read is that the “queer” people in the book end up forming a community. The grumpy gardener, the depressed son who is neglected by his father, the girl who feels unwanted by everyone, the boy who seems to be able to commune with nature, and a bird that likes to hang out with people. They all eventually find each other, talk about their weirdnesses, and help each other see that there are good things in the world. All of them are lonely until they find other “queer” people who are willing to look past their quirks, and even celebrate those quirks if they’re not self-destructive. In short, this is one of the first found family stories I fell in love with. 

Of course, there are many issues with The Secret Garden: the blatant racism that comes from being written during Britain’s colonization of India, the easy curing of depression and physical issues, the fetishization of poverty by those with money. 

But it’s still a children’s classic I would recommend. It’s just… delightful. It feels like spring wrapped up in a story. Children help other children to see how good the world can be despite poor upbringings. They help adults find joy again. They build a beautiful world around each other.

Like nontraditional gardening and children’s rights, the word “queer” has an interesting and not entirely documented history. The word, which is of “uncertain origin,” used to mean “odd” or “unusual,” as in The Secret Garden. However, in 1894, the word was used as a slur against Oscar Wilde (referring to him and his lover as “snob queers,” which sounds like a great name for a queer punk band) during his very public sodomy trial. After this, newspapers began to use it as a slur against men who were attracted to men. Then it became a word for everyone in the LGBTQ+ community, people seen as outside of the norm in our cis-het normative society. 

Of course, the word’s history is much more complicated than this short summary (involving the AIDS epidemic, the 1960s civil rights movement, etc.) and the meaning of the word continues to change. But the fact of the matter is this: it’s just a word, until it’s used as a weapon. 

As much as I don’t think being part of the LGBTQ+ community should be seen as “strange,” I kind of like being a weird person. I am more than happy to call myself queer and be a part of the queer community. However, “queer” immediately becomes harmful to me when used as a noun. For others, it’s the word itself that hurts, regardless of context. 

So as I re-read The Secret Garden, I found myself relating to the main characters both loving and hating their queerness. It makes life more difficult to be different, but it can also enrich your experiences. For example, Mary, who used to hate when boys would sing the “Mistress Mary, Quite Contrary” song to make fun of her, eventually uses the flowers mentioned in the song to adorn the garden, reclaiming the song in a different context and a different moment.

The words people use against us have tremendous power. Sometimes, we can shift that power in our favor. And maybe plant some (physical or metaphorical) flowers along the way. 
–Ryn PB

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Dead Birds and Pharmacies

Posted on April 24, 2024 by Ryn PB

CW: Big Pharma, dead animals, mental illness

I’m still half asleep. I just dragged myself away from my cat, who inevitably started acting cute right as I grabbed my keys, and now I’m preparing my customer service brain for work. Then I’m accosted by lowercase “d” death.

This happened to me every morning for about a week. I would walk down the stairs to my car and spot the dead bird, each day surprised it was still there, and each day saddened by the ubiquity of mortality. Every day started with a bad omen. Add onto that the fact that issues with the pharmacy prevented me from taking my antidepressants, and those five days began to feel like a dark episode of The Twilight Zone.

Today, however, I walked outside in my Hadestown T-shirt and green, checkered Vans to find that the dead bird was gone. My hope is that the bird’s body was taken by another animal to continue the circle of life, but more likely someone called a maintenance person to remove it. 

Fortunately, I have an understanding mom who is willing to help me when I struggle, and she helped facilitate getting my meds back into my hands. (Thanks, Mom. Love ya.)

I have a complicated relationship with relying on lifelong medications (including testosterone, which is something I choose to take as a transmasculine person), as most people who rely on pharmaceuticals do, but this experience really proved to me that my mental illnesses are, in fact, real illnesses. It’s something I knew cognitively, but not emotionally. 

This is all a long-winded explanation for why I didn’t post a short story mid-month as I normally do. 

He may not like getting his picture taken, but his disdain sure is adorable. 🙂

I have this compulsion to over-explain everything I do, which I’m addressing in therapy, but I do think this tendency can be helpful at times as a writer. Everything has good and bad in some ratio. And this is one of the few times an “everything” or “always” doesn’t feel like hyperbole to me.

I live in a world where pharmacies make consumers do extra work when insurance changes, where birds die and sit there for days, and where moms and friends can look out for me better than I look out for myself. I live in a world with an adorable cat that begrudgingly loves me. A world in which my sister is one of my closest friends, in which I can live honestly (if not entirely safely) as a queer person, and in which I can stop on the sidewalk to pick up a penny. Although I think that last one might be specific to where I live.

I’m writing all of this while my cat is curled up on my jacket next to me and the Nebraska wind is blowing through my windows. I hope that bird’s body has given some other animal a good meal, and I hope that healthcare will get better in the U.S. soon. But most of all, I hope that you, dear reader, will forgive me for skipping this month’s short story. 

-Ryn PB

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TBR Playlist: Fall Out Boy Edition

Posted on April 7, 2024 by Ryn PB

Just a few days ago, my sister, dad, and I went to see Fall Out Boy in concert (which was AMAZING), so of course I had to do a FOB edition of TBR Playlist to commemorate the day. Please enjoy this list as I return to listening to Fall Out Boy instead of actually making a dent in my TBR…

“Love From The Other Side”: This Is Not the Jess Show by Anna Carey

In This Is Not the Jess Show, the titular character is living a drama-filled teenage life in 1998… or is she? One day, an iPhone falls out of her friend’s backpack (despite not having been invented yet), and when Jess decides to take a closer look at her life, she realizes it’s all fake. Though it’s not clear from the synopsis how this book is dystopian, that’s how it is labeled on The StoryGraph. Both the song and the show involve a post-apocalyptic/dystopian world in which people prefer the curated reality of TV and social media to actual reality. The song asks several times, “What would you trade the pain for?” and I suspect that Jess faces the answer to that question when looking outside of her life of lies. 

“Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet”: A Tempest of Tea by Hafsah Faizal

I’ll admit that I initially paired these two together because this song has the line “tempest in a teacup,” but there are actually quite a few more similarities! A Tempest of Tea is about someone who runs a tearoom that turns into an illegal vampire hangout (or “bloodhouse”) at night. Her establishment is threatened, so she teams up with multiple adversaries for a heist on the vampire community’s main hangout. The song and book both deal with what happens when a morally gray person pairs up with other morally gray people, when your friends and enemies and lovers and colleagues all blend together into a big mess. There is love and attraction paired with danger and deceit. 

“Electric Touch” (by Taylor Swift, feat. Fall Out Boy): Act Your Age, Eve Brown by Talia Hibbert

The “Electric Touch” in Act Your Age, Eve Brown is a bit more literal than what the song mentions—she hits the love interest with her car. Eve starts working for B&B owner Jacob after accidentally breaking his leg, and as the two of them are forced together by circumstance, electricity builds between them. The song and book detail a relationship between two people—one put together, jaded, serious; the other chaotic, artsy, unafraid of emotion. Plus, Talia Hibbert and Taylor Swift have something in common: both make art about romantic love that is really about women coming of age. 

“Immortals”: If This Gets Out by Sophie Gonzales & Cale Dietrich

“Immortals” is about the immortality of legacy—artistic or otherwise—and the invincibility of youth. The two main characters of If This Gets Out are young members of a boy band who fall for each other. When they decide to come out publicly, everything changes—and not necessarily for the better. “We could be immortals, but not for long” is a perfect summary of their situation. And if you look at the second verse of the song, you’ll see how well that fits with the story of two people figuring out who they are together. 

“The Phoenix”: The Dragon Republic and The Burning God (of The Poppy War trilogy) by R.F. Kuang

I paired these together for two main reasons: (1) In The Poppy War trilogy, there is literally a god of destruction called “the Phoenix,” and (2), this song has the repeated line “Put on your war paint,” and this trilogy is all about a magical version of the Opium Wars. Both involve violence and resistance and fighting spirit. They involve the atrocities of war and the consequences of those atrocities, no matter for what cause they were perpetrated. 

“I Am My Own Muse”: Starfish by Akemi Dawn Bowman

While dealing with a narcissistic mother and abusive uncle, Starfish’s main character Kiko Himura gets kicked down even more when she’s rejected from an arts school. She is invited on a roadtrip to go tour more arts schools with an old friend, during which she is able to discover herself and her courage. “I Am My Own Muse” deals with a kind of destructive artistry in the face of an apocalyptic and pessimistic world in the same way that Starfish deals with an artist who is dealt blow after blow but doesn’t lose her creativity. Just like Fall Out Boy suggest that we “throw this year away like a bad luck charm,” Kiko learns to throw this art school rejection away in favor of moving forward. 

“Uma Thurman”: Landing On My Feet: A Diary of Dreams by Kerri Strug with John Lopez

If anyone could “move mountains” or “work a miracle,” it’s Kerri Strug, right? This book is the story of how Kerri Strug became the Olympic Gold medalist we all know for her badassery in the 1996 Olympics. She sacrificed a lot, including her physical wellbeing, to win the Gold in gymnastics. The line “the blood … of the lamb is worth two lions, but here I am” indicates Strug’s loss of innocence through this process, through gaining the knowledge that “tomorrow’s dreams … [are] not quite what they seem.”  In addition, Uma Thurman and Kerri Strug are both legendary women of the 90s—and, we can all agree, super cool. 

“My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light Em Up)”: Altamont: The Rolling Stones, the Hells Angels, and the Inside Story of Rock’s Darkest Day by Joel Selvin

What happens when fans’ relationship with rock music becomes dangerous? This song and book both take a look at what happens “in the dark” of the rock music industry (particularly when fans get too invested, feel entitled, take things too far), although the former is much less concrete than the latter, as the latter deals with a specific event on a specific day. 

“Bang The Doldrums”: These Violent Delights by Micah Nemerever

In These Violent Delights, university students Paul and Julian strike up a friendship that evolves into an obsessive intimate relationship. Julian is erratic and exciting, and Paul does everything he can to live up to Julian’s expectations. “Bang The Doldrums” is about a toxic friendship complicated by lust, as is These Violent Delights. In both cases, the “best friends, ex-friends til the end” who are “better off as lovers” cause chaos and destruction because of the intensity of their relationship. Both the song and the book create a sense of foreboding and doom that surround these relationships, which are ill-fated for the two involved as well as the society in which they wreak havoc. 

“A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More ‘Touch Me’”: My Life with the Walter Boys by Ali Novak

My Life with the Walter Boys documents Type A, New Yorker Jackie’s experience going to live with her new guardians, the Walters, after her parents die suddenly. The Walter family consists of two parents and twelve sons that live on a Colorado ranch, and who are just as wild as the wildlife on the ranch. This FOB song has the hook “I don’t blame you for being you / But you can’t blame me for hating it,” which could definitely describe how Jackie feels when dealing with the Walter boys. The song details a girl who acts too good for the boy in her life (a la Sk8r Boi); if you replace the song’s narrator with the Walter boys, and the narrator’s muse for Jackie, it’s basically the same story. 

Bonus Tracks

  1. “This Ain’t A Scene, It’s An Arms Race”: Immortal Longings by Chloe Gong
  2. “Twin Skeleton’s (Hotel In NYC)”: Kiss Her Once for Me by Alison Cochrun
  3. “We Didn’t Start the Fire” (updated Billy Joel cover): The Shortest History of the World by David Baker
  4. “Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy”: Never Kiss Your Roommate by Philline Harms
  5. “Saturday”: Some Girls Do by Jennifer Dugan

Conclusion

It was so hard to pick songs for this post because FOB have too many good ones, so thank you to my super cool sister for suggesting a few of these and making my life easier. I hope you enjoyed this post!

Happy reading, and happy listening!

-Ryn PB

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