#(drafted a few days ago. in preparation. cuz i was already getting emotional)

[josephtrohman]

sighs heavily

[2dmenenthusiast]

Let’s be sad together (Peter Parker x Depressed Reader)

A/N PLEASE READ!!: heeey so before we get into this, this story is told in the first person, which I know some people don’t like but I felt it was best for this particular fic because there is some self-hate in here and I didn’t want the reader to feel targetted and make them feel like shit? I hope that made sense. keep in mind this fic deals with themes of DEPRESSION, something I myself struggle with. So if you’re not comfortable with this, please don’t read. I’ve read plenty of x depressed! reader fics, and most of what I read doesn’t do the feelings justice or it romanticises depression. It’s usually like “oh youre depressed? Well i love you and boom youre fixed!” Yeah I hate shit like that lol. But I am certainly not trying to romanticise depression or mental illness by writing this. I wanted to make a fic people like me can relate to, the thoughts and feelings, etc. It was honestly super difficult, I wrote the first draft and completely scrapped it cuz I hated it. I really tried my best here, guys, and I hope you like it. And always remember that you’re not alone and things do eventually get better. It just takes time and a little help. Once again I tried to keep the reader as nuetral as possible so everyone can read! (I fucking suck at titles btw)

Plot: Peter notices something’s been wrong with you lately, and you prepare yourself for the inevitable break-up once he confronts you about it.

Words: 2,562

Warnings: Themes of depression and anxiety, self hate, angst

Loving Peter Parker was absolutely suffocating.

Sometimes I couldn’t decide if dating him was the worst or best decision I ever made, but I knew one thing for sure. He had me wrapped around his finger, and there was no leaving him even if I tried. Not that I wanted to. Peter is… well, he’s perfect. Sure, he’s dorky and can ramble about technical stuff that I can’t even begin to understand for hours on end, but if anything, those things only added to the list of reasons why he’s perfect. Oh, and he’s Spiderman. My boyfriend is Spiderman. In other words, nights were spent worrying about whether he’d make it home safely or not, and some were spent patching him up when he came knocking on my window after a particularly bad fight. He made me happy. Happier than I had ever been probably. So… why did I still feel this way?

At first, a part of me thought that being with Peter would… fix things, I guess. That maybe if I was in a relationship, it would cause all the rushing thoughts inside my head to go away. And at first, it did help. There were more nights that I could sleep peacefully, and there wasn’t a constant feeling of anxiousness sitting in my stomach. But of course, that relief never lasted long. I knew it wouldn’t, but a part of me hoped it would.

Overthinking had always been an issue. Every situation had a “what if,” and this was no different. Thoughts of Peter leaving me began to occupy my mind almost every second of every day, and now, rather than feeling relaxed in his presence, I felt a constant feeling of anxiety. Like my heart was stuck in my throat and I couldn’t breathe, an invisible weight crushing my chest. Sometimes I’d get so overwhelmed with my feelings that I’d have to leave the room and calm myself down so that I wouldn’t cry. And other days I’d completely close myself off from everyone, laying in my bed all day and feeling so upset and worthless.

This wasn’t Peter’s fault. No, he treated me like fucking royalty. This was due to my own dumb self and my own dumb emotions and my dumb fucking ways of overthinking shit I shouldn’t even be thinking about. But it’s always been like this, and no amount of listening to sad songs and telling myself everything was going to be okay was going to change that. I wasn’t immune to feeling insecure either. Especially when Peter hung out with his other friends, but I immediately told myself not to think about that stuff. I didn’t want to be that partner that gets jealous of their partner’s friends when I’m not getting every second of their attention. No, thinking that way felt toxic, and that was the last thing I wanted to be.

But sometimes, I couldn’t help those thoughts from sinking in. There were so many people out there. So many people that were funnier and better looking than me… So why did Peter settle for me? Why would he want to date someone with so much fucking baggage? Someone who could barely get out of bed in the morning while already wishing for the day to be over? Someone who thought so fucking little of themselves as a human being? There were times where I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror, because those were the days I really hated myself. Sometimes I feel like he fell out of love with me a long time ago and now he won’t leave me because he feels bad, which only made me feel worse for keeping him in a relationship he probably didn’t even want to be in. 

I couldn’t say anything to Peter about this. How could I? He would just try to fix everything and I didn’t need fixing. I just wanted him there to reassure me that he loved me as much as I loved him. That he wouldn’t leave me because of how mentally fucked I was. Even if he did tell me those things, I don’t know if I’d even believe him. My mind probably wouldn’t even let me. I imagined if I did try to tell him everything I was feeling, I probably wouldn’t be able to explain it in a way that he could understand. I was just so tired. Tired of waiting for the inevitable moment when Peter would break up with me, and I’d be left with an expected broken heart. I’ve even been preparing for the day it happens so that it doesn’t kill me when it hurts, just like I do with every situation. Rather than give my hopes up and be disappointed, I just assume the worst from the get-go. 

I don’t know how it hasn’t happened yet. How he hasn’t noticed the way I just shut down when the day gets hard. How I constantly look like I’m just in my own head, either when all of us are hanging out or when it’s just me and him. I want him to know. I want to tell him all the shit that’s running through my mind, but a part of me is terrified that I’ll just scare him away. So I just pretend it’s fine. Like I’m not ready to bust and rip open at the seams.

Today was another one of those days where I just felt like locking myself in my room and never coming out. However, the usual excuse of “I just don’t feel good,” didn’t work on Peter this time. He knew that there was something wrong. I could see it in the way he looked at me. I thought I had gotten away with it at first, laying in my bed and mindlessly scrolling on my phone, not even present in my head, just kind of there. But I knew I was screwed when I heard a knock on my window and opened my curtains just to see Peter sitting on the fire escape. I didn’t say anything as I opened the window, just watching as he stumbled into my room while pulling on the sleeves of my hoodie, something I often did when I felt that familiar anxiousness creeping in.

He made sure to shut the window after he was inside, and I immediately shrunk under his gaze when he turned to me, feeling too ashamed to meet his eyes.

“Hey, um…” 

He hesitated, and I watched the way he rubbed his palms against his jeans, almost as if he was feeling nervous. I could imagine how he was feeling, though. I was nervous too.

“I know this is kinda abrupt, um… but I just wanted to stop by and you know, make sure you’re feeling okay and all that. I was worried, so…”

Worried? He was worried about me? I blinked a few times, trying to rack my brain for a quick lie I could tell him, but that wasn’t what came out when I spoke.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, I just… I guess I’ve just been feeling kinda low today.”

I immediately wanted to swallow the words that left my mouth, not believing that I actually willingly let him know that I wasn’t really feeling okay.

“Oh?” He took a step forward, which immediately made me want to take a step back. “How come? Was today just not a good day?”

Peter was so unbelievably sweet and considerate, I almost wanted to cry right then and there. He always treated me so well… but he deserved someone better. Someone that wasn’t me.

“I-I guess? I don’t know, it’s just kinda hard to explain,” I muttered, reaching a hand up to rub the back of my neck that felt strangely warm.

“Do you wanna talk about it? I have plenty of time. I actually left the group to come see you, so I don’t mind listening.”

My eyes slightly widened as my gaze quickly met his, looking at him as if he was crazy. Hell, he just might’ve been if he stopped hanging out with his friends just to see me.

“You… Why would you do that?” I asked softly, my voice almost a whisper as I tried to keep it from trembling.

His brows furrowed and he tilted his head slightly, looking at me almost incredulously as he stepped closer.

“Do I need a reason? I wanted to see you.”

He said it so confidently, as if he was so positive that he rather be spending his time with me than his buddies. It kind of made me feel a bit guilty. He could be spending his time with his friends and having fun, but instead, he was here, and I was trying not to break down in front of him.

“But your friends… wouldn’t you rather hang out with them?” I asked, arms crossing over my chest as if I was protecting myself from something.

Peter just smiled. “I could chill with them any time I want. Why would I skip out on an opportunity to see my baby, hm?”

My hand quickly shot up to cover my mouth, and I could feel tears starting to push through.

“He wouldn’t say that if he knew,” I thought, and it immediately became harder to contain the tears when he closed the short distance between us and placed his hands on my shoulders, his expression clearly one of concern.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

I shook my head, sniffling as I reached up and wiped at my teary eyes.

“I’m fine, I just-”

You’re not. You’re really not fine, y/n. This is not fine.

My walls were quickly crumbling down as a tear slipped down my cheek, which caused more to follow, and I let out a choked sob as Peter placed a hand on the back of my head and gently pulled me into his chest, his other hand running over my back. He didn’t say anything, just let me cry to my heart’s content as I gripped onto the front of his shirt for dear life.

“I… I’m not okay, Peter. Nothing’s okay,” I mumbled into his chest, and he gently pushed me back as he carefully held my face in his hands, thumbs wiping at my tear stained cheeks.

“What’s not okay, y/n? C’mon, talk to me.”

“Everything!” I yelled, and I could tell he was surprised by my sudden outburst as I pulled myself away from his embrace.

“Everything is not okay, Peter. Fuck, I just…” I brought my arm up over my eyes as my bottom lip quivered, my eyes burning as more tears fell. “Everything’s just so hard and I’m so tired. And I’m making everything so complicated for myself, it’s not even anyone’s fault that I’m feeling like this. It’s mine.” I sniffled and wiped at my eyes again, but it did nothing to stop the endless tears that had spent too much time being held in. “A-And I don’t know what to do, Peter. I really don’t. I’m so fucking tired of hurting and I just want the thoughts and feelings to stop. Fuck sometimes I just wish I felt nothing!”

I looked up at Peter when he didn’t say anything, and found that he was just looking at me. There wasn’t any judgement or disgust in his eyes. At least, not from what I could tell. He looked… worried. Maybe even a little sad. Was he upset over what I said? Is he bummed out that he found out what I’m actually like? I let out a sigh and wiped my nose against my sleeve, suddenly finding my feet very interesting as I looked down. The silence was fucking deafening, and in that moment, I wanted to throw myself off the fire escape and into traffic below.

“How long have you felt like this?” Peter suddenly asked, his voice quiet as if he was trying to not startle me.

I hesitantly looked up at him, pulling at my sleeves again as I shrugged my shoulders.

“If you’re talking about all the depressing shit, ever since my early teens, I guess. But um… I’ve been having other thoughts recently. Ever since we got together, actually.”

I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. Would I regret this? Most definitely. Did Peter need to know? No, but he deserved to.

Peter frowned. “Really? Like… what kind of thoughts?”

I sighed and ran a hand down my face.

“Fuck, Peter, I just… You’re Peter Parker. You’re Spiderman! And I’m just-”

“Amazing, beautiful, the best partner I could ever ask for. Should I go on?” he asked with a small smirk, and I let out an amused huff as I placed a hand against his chest and lightly pushed him.

“I’m serious, Peter. I’m just… I’m fucked up, okay? Nothing about me is normal, hell the thoughts I have certainly aren’t. And I doubt you wanna be with someone who has so much shit going on with them-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Peter interrupted, waving his hands in front of my face. “Who said anything about me not wanting to be with you?”

I scoffed. “I mean, it’s a no brainer, Peter. You saw me just now. I mean, sometimes I break down over the dumbest shit-”

“It’s not dumb if it makes you upset,” he said, his tone a bit harsh.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. No one had ever really validated my feelings like that before.

“I-”

“No, y/n. Why would you think any of this would be a problem for me? I mean… No, nevermind, I understand why you would think that. You can’t help it right? But listen to me.” He placed his hands on my arms, making sure I was focusing on him. “No matter how messed up you think you are… you’ll always be my favorite person, y/n. You don’t have to hide how you feel, you don’t need to be scared. If you’re having a bad day, tell me, and we can have a bad day together. We can lay in bed all day and munch on food that will probably take years off of our life, we can do anything you want. Just tell me, okay? If something ever happened to you… shit, y/n.”

He then pulled me into a bone crushing hug, holding onto me as if I’d disappear if he let me go.

“That’s my worst nightmare. I could handle being kicked out of the avengers or any other terrible stuff. But losing you? Just thinking about it breaks my heart, baby.”

I felt the tears rising once again as I took in what he said, not used to hearing someone say these things to me. Leave it to Peter Parker to make me feel completely vulnerable and open, something I usually hated. I immediately relaxed in his embrace, letting out a soft cry as my arms wrapped around his waist and I buried my face in his neck.

“I love you, Peter,” I muttered softly, my heart skipping when I felt Peter’s lips against my temple, smiling against my skin.

“I love you too, y/n. Please don’t ever forget that.”

Maybe opening up a bit wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.

[misakishishido]

Project #3 - Android/Clone (Teaser)

Hello hello :D

I hope everyone has seen my Project #1 post prior to this but if not, please do so here, as I won’t go through most, if not all, of what I’ve said over there haha. Sorry for being lazy. 

Anyways. This is the third ‘project’ from my long lost document of drafts I had prepared in the past for WMatsui that I have decided to revive especially when I think it’s well... sort of a waste to never publish it. I spent quite a lot of time on this back then and what you will be seeing is pretty much a part of the actual first chapter of the story. 

Moreover, I decided to revive this project in conjunction with the release of the Playstation 4 game Detroit:Become Human. Seems like a good time to put this out there especially if you readers out there have actually played the game and loved the whole android plot though I highly doubt mine will be that much related to existential crisis nor the state of the world in the near future and whether having androids is a good or bad idea.

Then again mine’s more on cloning so... I dunno why I just HAD to mention the game. Oh well~

This is basically, tl;dr, a love story for mainly JuriSaku *laughs*, so no deep stuff. I hope. Maybe sprinkles of it, who knows? :v Also note how I say mainly ‘cuz there may be other ships in this thing with Sayanee relevant in it hehehe.

Okay, I think I’ve said my piece. Again, it’d be great if you all can let me know which project you’d like to read as a priority so I can be a lot more focused on one than splitting my attention to all three and screwing things up in the process >< 

Hope you enjoy this little teaser! 

“I’m back.”

“Welcome back, Jurina dear.”

Matsui Jurina, an adolescent who had just started her first year of high school who sported striking red frame glasses that protected her cool black, but slightly lifeless, orbs, shrugged off her backpack which made a soft thump onto the floor as she swiftly took off her shoes and handed her mother a folder.

“Got my results. Straight As as promised.”

Her mother flipped open the folder and read through Jurina’s results, smiling at what her daughter had produced and gave her a loving pat on the head.

“Well done, Jurina dear. I’m sure your father would be proud of—“

“Don’t bother telling him. As if he cares about me anyways,” Jurina quickly grabbed her bag that was still lying near the entrance and walked past her mother when suddenly her mother grabbed her by the hand, stopping her daughter in her tracks.

“Jurina… about your father. He has something urgent to tell you at the lab. Please go see him.”

Jurina, as bright as she is, noticed her mother’s eyes turning slightly reddish as if she was holding back her tears. She knew straight away it was not going to be good news. She sighed and just gave a quick nod to her mother before heading towards her father’s lab which was in the basement of her bungalow.

She used to be close with her father until one day he got too immersed with his research that he began neglecting both his wife and daughter and had always stayed cooped up within his laboratory with a few of his assistants that would come every day but leave every evening. It all started when his thesis for cloning was recognised by the government and not only he got a status in society because of that, but he also got more and more projects relating to cloning research by the government which made his life rather hectic, hence causing a rift between his wife and daughter.

Jurina’s mother was more understanding but Jurina, being the only child of the family, wanted to feel even more loved deep down, and acknowledged by her father. After all, when she was asked to write about what she wanted to be when she grows up when she was still a kid, she had made being a scientist her first choice due to how cool she thought her father was and then a teacher as her second choice since she liked teaching people things that they were having difficulty with. She used good academic records as an attempt to impress her father but to no avail. He used to praise her back in what, kindergarten? And it all ended after that.

At the lab, she could see all of her father’s assistants busy with their work. Some were running around from machine to machine, some were busy at their own ‘station’ tapping away on the keyboards before them and some were busy asking one another questions, obviously relating to the experiment at hand.

It was just another normal day for Matsui Jurina’s father, Matsui Junichiro, a man who has the status of a world renowned scientist. Jurina, despite her strained feelings towards her father, would always be in awe whenever she stepped into his lab. It wasn’t every house that had a huge laboratory with huge machines or capsules that could fit people in their basement. Sure, she was thankful she was living in such a special home provided by the government but… she still wanted that one single element that her father had not given her expressly in a long time.

Jurina felt a pair of eyes which noticed her presence in the busy room and quickly nudged the head of the experiment that was in front of him. Jurina’s father turned around abruptly and gave Jurina a stern look, a look that would always make Jurina clench her fists involuntarily. Don’t give me that look… stupid dad…

“Jurina. You’re here.”

“What do you want?” Jurina shot back, returning the look that her father is giving her but the latter did not pay his daughter’s current attitude to mind and just closed his eyes calmly.

“You will be leaving this house for the course of six years and will be studying in UK.”

The adolescent could not believe what she just heard, “W-What did you just—“

“Your aunt has already been notified and you will be staying with her,” Jurina’s father turned his back on his daughter after finishing his piece.

“O-Oi! You just blurt all that without telling me a good reason why?!” Jurina exclaimed.

“This project… was personally asked by a government councilman, as well as my best friend,” he looked over his shoulder with cold eyes, “It required your DNA. And the clone to be produced would be you, six years earlier.”

“Y-You’re cloning… me…?”

“And as such, there could not be two Matsui Jurina living under the same roof. Especially when this project is for a ‘patient’ suffering from anthropophobia.”

Fear of people… “Why me and not someone else?!” Jurina pressed on.

“Because when you were ten, you were quite the Good Samaritan. Many have learned good qualities from you and adored you as a perfect example. An angel. My only daughter too, of course,” he turned back to face his daughter once more, “… Henceforth, you are perfect for this experiment.”

“That wasn’t even a good explanation darn it!” Jurina felt like wanting to storm out of the lab immediately after giving her father a few punches but held it in, inevitably bursting into tears in the process.

The man did not budge but instead, handed Jurina an iPad that an assistant quickly handed to him after he had subtly nodded. Jurina bit her lips, looking into the screen and a video footage of a young girl was shown. She assumed she was about six and felt chills down her spine when the footage showed how violently she acted in front of a group of people who tried to approach her, which included footage outside of her home and inside, where it seemed like a family gathering. Another footage showed how she was in her room. She would be at a certain corner of her room with the lights off, hugging her legs without doing anything, just, sitting there. Her parents enter her room periodically and individually. Fortunately, she does not retaliate violently and acts rather lifelessly when her mother feeds her or cleans her up.

Jurina pitied the poor girl. Just what happened to her that made her this way?

“The patient’s name is Miyawaki Sakura. She had been diagnosed with that phobia after being kidnapped once. I heard they were child rapists. But her father, being a councilman, managed to cover up the story and prevented any leakage of the story being published on the media. The men have been jailed but the horrifying experience she had to go through remains,” Jurina’s father began explaining after the video repeated itself.

“It would explain as much then…” Jurina’s sympathies for the girl managed to overwhelm her anger and frustration towards her father. 

If cloning me would help her and give her a brighter future… I would definitely sacrifice myself... even if it’s for someone I don’t know… but that’s what I would have thought as the ‘me’ from years ago... now I......

“You do understand the situation now then?”

Jurina looked upwards into her father’s eyes before looking away, having mixed feelings circling around within her, “… When am I leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he handed the iPad to an assistant who just passed by him, “Your contribution would help society and change the life of this girl if everything is successful. You do realize that, don’t you?”

Jurina ignored his question and turned around, facing the exit, “… I hope your experiment succeeds. Goodbye… Father,” and she left, taking big steps towards the door.

“… Sir, weren’t you a bit too direct with your daughter just now…?” A female assistant squeaked when she approached him. She had heard everything, working rather close to where the father and daughter were conversing a moment ago.

“A scientist must let go of his emotions and attachments if he wants to succeed. Do not pester me with insignificant familial issues. Get back to work!” He glared at the woman and she quickly bowed apologetically and returned to her ‘station’. Jurina’s father massaged his temple and felt a burning sensation starting in his eyes. 

There is no time for tears. This project must succeed.

[michael-radi-the-glamorous-life]

A Good Story Is Everything

Anyone who knows me well knows that - in all honesty - I’m not very good at telling stories.

Now, I’d like to qualify this a little since - yes - I’m aware that I’m making a career as both a writer and a performer, which are both types of professional storytelling. And when I can provide a narrative in such a structured, prepared, and well-crafted way, I feel totally confident delivering an engaging story.

But as for more pedestrian, real-life stories? It’s been a struggle.

It was first pointed out to me about five years ago when someone turned to me and said:

“Yeesh. I hope you’re a better writer than storyteller!”

Ouch. Harsh, Gretch.

But it was true! I have always loved telling anecdotes from life, particularly the funny or really out-there ones, but I tend to hold my tongue these days because I know that my stories tend not to land.

So I’ve worked on it. I’ve researched (cuz it’s me) how to tell a good oral story and what makes this craft different from a written story, and I think I’ve improved greatly. Huzzah!

But why am I bringing this up now?

Well, if this summer taught me one thing only (and it taught me waaaaay more than that), it’s that people of all walks of life respond to nothing as well as they respond to a good story.

Beginning

Before heading up to Naples this summer, I knew that I would be doing several…extracurricular events in conjunction with the production of The King’s Legacy, spread throughout the entire summer.

These included:

3 Talks at local Public Libraries

A Promotional Video Interview

A Podcast Interview

And at least 2 Audience Talkbacks - one after the Open Dress and one after a Performance

What exactly was I going to be talking about? That is an excellent question, to which I really didn’t have an answer…

The show? The history? The writing process? I mean, what do people want to know???

I did know that the libraries each had a book group that was reading and/or watching The Other Boleyn Girl as a way to get into the topic and prepare some questions, comments, and comparisons ahead of time. But otherwise, I wasn’t really sure what I was going to be talking about or what people wanted to hear.

Luckily for me, before doing any of the public talks, I first sat down with our Arts Administration intern - Emily - to do an interview for promotional video purposes. She had a list filled with all sorts of questions and topics that could be cut and spliced together into different videos for marketing, but it was her very first question on the list that started me on the right path:

“Tell me about the journey of this musical. How did it all start?”

Um, duh, Michael. It’s storytelling. *Insert facepalm*

Not only did people want to know the story of the characters within the show when they sit down to watch it, they also wanted to know the story of the show’s journey and development! What a delightfully simple and wonderful answer.

Only problem was, I had somehow never really explained that journey before.

So it was time to reach into the depths of memory and piece together the story of how The King’s Legacy came into being, from a seedling of an idea to full production. (Read about that journey here)

Now, I’ll fully admit that the first time I told the story this year I was a little thrown off and unsure, so it was less than brilliant. But then again, isn’t that what first drafts are for?

Middle

And so, like with any good workshop process, the next step was to figure out the most engaging way to tell this story for the next time around.

The main issue there was that I only had Emily’s engagement and reactions to go off of, since she was the sole person in the room while I was being interviewed. And what if she was interested in different parts of the story than everyone else would be?

But, okay, let’s at least start with: What parts of the story seemed to engage her the most? Where did she react?

The randomness of the way I initially became interested in the topic made her raise an eyebrow.

The fact that I began writing in defiance of an off-hand challenge made her chuckle.

Saying it took 5 large-scale narrative rewrites to find the right structure to feature the women’s stories caused her to mouth “Wow” behind the camera.

And her eyes widened when I mentioned that I threw out the majority of the score and wrote over a dozen new songs once I found the correct structure.

This seemed like a solid basis to continue telling the story from.

In just the above points, we’ve got: 1) An initial hook on the topic, 2) Multiple challenges to overcome, 3) Some light comedy, 4) Failures, 5) Successes, and 6) The arc of a relatively epic journey.

This seemed workable!

Well, that is until the first Library Talk…

At the Wayland Library I sat down with the Associate Artistic Director (Katelyn Cantu) and a small group of women in an intimate interview setting, and most of what I thought would be interesting turned out…not to be.

Isn’t that just typical of a writer?

Katelyn did a fantastic job asking questions and getting information about the show and its developmental process flowing, but I made the mistake of thinking that what people would want to hear more about was the actual writing and process. Aka, what had changed? When did that happen? How did X or Y opportunity help shape the show? What were the old songs and characters like?

Not that these women weren’t interested, but it’s not what they ended up asking their questions about or what they were focused on.

I had already learned from the initial interview that the origin of the topic, idea, and show were of interest, but it was during this talk that I learned the other 3 big things that were apparently engaging:

Why these women? Why these stories? (With ”Particularly as a man” as the subtext.)

The journey in finding the balance between Anne and Henry as protagonist and love/antagonist - What caused this struggle and how did I resolve it?

The current narrative shape of this piece that these women were going to actually see onstage later this summer - The flow between scenes, the movement of time, and the function of the narrative Elizabethan Players.

Well, of course! This makes so much sense! *Insert second facepalm*

Now, not only would my story include more interesting elements, but it could focus on them. Elements like: 1) A touch of the unexpected, 2) The main cause and resolution of the biggest writing struggle, 3) How the resolution of that struggle shaped the entire musical, and 4) A sneak peek of what was to come when eventually seeing the show.

Inciting Incident. A Large Goal. Surprise. Humor. Obstacles. Struggles. Successes. Resolution. Cliff-Hangers. …These are all standards and necessities in storytelling, and this is what people wanted to hear and experience when they came to talk with me about the show.

Silly me. It really just makes so much sense, right?

Ending

Well, anyone who was with me at more than one of the events this summer can tell you that I found the rhythm of how to tell this story - finally.

In fact, it meant that each of the following talks I gave and each of the ways I answered peoples’ questions were quiiiiiiite similar. I would bet that a few of the people at Bristol Valley Theater could now successfully answer some of these questions about the show without any help or input from me!

But that’s great!

It means that the story works. Once I got it correct, it was memorable, engaging, and worth telling again.

And I knew it worked when I had people coming up to me after the talks saying things like:

“Well, I was excited to see the show before tonight, but now I’m really excited!”

And that’s what good storytelling should do, right? Elicit an emotional response, whether that be a positive one or a negative one.

*Now, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that I also learned a great deal about storytelling through the production of The King’s Legacy this summer. Seeing what worked and what didn’t was a phenomenal experience that I would not trade, but that’s not what this particular post was about.

So, all in all, I’ve gotten better at oral storytelling, but it’s clear that this is a skill I will need to continue honing. And ultimately, I think it will make me a better and more efficient writer as well.

And so, if anyone has any tips, the Comments section is certainly all ears!

Otherwise, until next time, friends!