#I hope these bring you guys as much joy and whimsy as I got making them 🍪

[froggychair05]

Hi hi my sticker shop is up and ready!!

I only have a few things in there for now but I definitely want to add more stuff

[weneverlearn]

Kurt Bloch: An Awesome Guy Who Awesome People Like

Rocking with the Fastbacks and recording all your favorite bands since 1979

Fastbacks, 1988; Kurt Bloch far left, Gumby t-shirt

“There truly is something about inspiration and enthusiasm that really is inspiring and enthusiastic!” - Kurt Bloch

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By: Eric Davidson

I’ve been thinking a lot about joy of late. Like pure, eyes-to-the-sky, skipping down the street joy. There is a paucity of it around right now.

We could follow a zillion trails to and from how we got here, but this is ostensibly a music blog, so I’m going to make a quick stab at the roots of this unenviably joyless position we’re sitting in, rock-wise.

The Fastbacks were joyful. Starting out in 1979 in the dawning days of Seattle’s punk scene, they became a local fave on the basis of action-packed shows stuffed with careening pop hooks, irked energy, and a friendly, guffaw around onstage demeanor that didn’t exactly scream “pre-hardcore era.”

Fastbacks retreated for a few years, circa 1988, and when kicked back into gear a couple years later, found themselves being a preferred opener for a load of grumpy grunge bands who I’m guessing hoped to absorb some of the Fastbacks positive energy to counteract their mope – which the Fastbacks were more than ready to supply.

A mélange of metal volume, fleeting bouts of prog whimsy, Ramones tempos, and BubbleYum stickiness, the Fastbacks created a  singular sound. Like most great bands, they never fit into any particular zeitgeist – too raggedy for the pop punk contingent, too peppy for the grunge trend, they nonetheless retained a respected status among bands who appreciated their consistently grabby tunes and fun live show.

Despite any remaining expectations of what “success” was supposed to be, by the turn of the millennium the Fastbacks became that precious thing – one of those awesome bands that awesome bands like.

It should be noted that, while grunge soon gained a definition as a downer genre (that has taken root since), Bloch and company palled around with that Seattle scene from the get-go, and knew many of them as fun rocker kids just trying their best to get through seven months of rain by rocking. 

The Fastbacks kept careening forward right through the ‘Alternative Rock” era that ignored all the fun underground garage punk and instead painted rock as increasingly dreary and grievance-based. The early 2000s came, and the Fastbacks took their leave.

They’ve recently gotten back together for occasional reunion shows. Always holding them together throughout their stop/start whirlwind of a career was ace guitarist/producer and philosophical center of the band, Kurt Bloch.

Bloch, who began his career as a recording studio whizz with Fastbacks, never stopped twiddling the knobs for lots of your favorite bands and/or underrated acts. We checked in with him on his ongoing mission to bring fun to the fringes despite the mainstream consistently choosing incorrectly.   

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Kurt Bloch, rockin', 1990 (Fuck the NRA. I will assume Kurt's t-shirt here was de rigueur '90s irony.)

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What was the first album you loved; and what was the first album you loved because of its production?

Good question, hard to answer. I think it was 45s and AM radio that got me going on recording qualities, how loud some of the great hits of the early-’70s sounded. How some records sounded like they were a band playing inside your head. I think I was aware of EQ and compression sounds early on, how the drum fills would sort of obliterate everything behind it on some songs. How the guitar would be so loud in the breaks. How, if the record didn’t have enough treble, it would be unexciting; if there was too much then it’d sound wimpy.

Then getting into albums, and FM radio, you’d listen to Larks’ Tongues In Aspic or Dark Side Of The Moon, and they had this spacious quality that was rad; the Scorpions’ Fly To The Rainbow was right in your face, really up-front and close. Then, going to see bands live, we’d see the coliseum style shows – that was so cool, but then getting to see bands in smaller spaces where you could hear the amps on stage, and feel the sound pressure in the room –now that was a mind-opener. You could feel the Marshalls and the actual sound coming off of the stage.

Then when punk bands started playing, that’s when it started getting interesting. You know, like I just saw this killer band that sounded so great at the show, and their record sounds like a bowlful of shit. Why?! That leads to one-track, two-track, four-track tape recorders, and each time you record something, you have a whole book of revelations of what to do and what not to do. So many great recordings from that early punk era without a bunch of reverb. It was another revelation. A lot of those early digital reverbs that everyone had, I just hated that fake trebly, scritchy sound. Rather just not use any reverb than that icky sound.

How did the Fastbacks form?

Kim and Lulu were high school friends of ours, The Cheaters was our neighborhood band; only lasted a couple years but they were good ones! When that band disintegrated on-stage, there was still band gear in my parents’ basement. Kim (Warnick, bass/vocals) had been in a band, The Radios, and Lulu (Gargiulo) wanted to play guitar and sing. Somehow my parents didn’t put a stop to it all, so we started playing a couple times a week. Not saying we got good, but we got better.

How long before you felt you had locked into the Fastbacks’ sound?

I reckon whatever “sound” we had was pretty well established early on; it was just whatever we wanted to do. Of course we loved the punk bands of the era first and foremost, but also the ’60s and ’70s pop music we grew up with; and the hard rock bands of the ’70s too! And I always was a fan of the wonderful arrangements and sound of the ’70s prog bands, once I started writing most of the songs, these things would creep in.

Live, 1986

I have this romantic vision of Kim Warnick as a long-haired rocker teen crashing parties and such. Is that correct?

Ha ha ha!! We were all pretty good (bad?) at crashing parties, some of the shit we did makes me wince thinking of it all. But it was 1977, ‘78; things were different back then, a different kind of boredom ran rampant through kids’ minds back then. There was a real disdain for society, maybe not to the degree of the UK bands at the time, but still there nonetheless. Often there was nothing to do other than the proverbial let’s go fuck shit up. And the music was such a part of all that.

So you got a story about something back then that would make you wince now?

Back when we were teenagers in The Cheaters, we would go to pretty desperate lengths to create excitement. The Cheaters singer, Scott Dittman, was maybe the funniest person I’ve ever known, and often in our search for something to do, he would drive a car full of us down to the frats at the University Of Washington. We’d go crash frat parties, rarely did we fit in unnoticed. You’d grab some keg cups and try to hang out, usually immediately, “Would you please leave.” And that didn’t often sit well with Scott. If we were going to “please leave” then we would not leave without exacting some sort of a toll. I guess we could run pretty fast, or we would’ve got our asses kicked pretty well back then. Somehow a few weeks later we’d go back to the same frat house that had a bookcase upended or a row of bikes knocked over, and lo and behold, the same thing would happen again. Of course we were never hired to play any frat parties.

Scott also loved to fight. He took boxing lessons and was always trying to teach us how to fight too. You knew when the gloves came out it was time to find something else to do. “Come on, you just gotta keep your guard up.” (smash smash smash) “You said you weren’t gonna hit us in the face.” Yeah right.

The Cheaters and The Accident (another erstwhile punk outfit) set up a show at a non-punk bar, somewhere down by Olympia. This would’ve been 1979 maybe. There were no roadmaps for like-minded or “friendly” places to play, outside of the major cities. But we were trying to do something, anything, and our double bill got the booking. This bar had a dance floor that also was used for bar fighting. There must have been some sort of organization to the fights, but it was sanctioned bar fighting. No-one was on the dance floor or anywhere near it when we started, so Scott tried to solicit a fight or two during our set. This was unfriendly territory, we were all, “Stop this nonsense!” But once you told Scott not to do something, well he was going to double down of course. Fortunately no one took him up on his offers, and we got out unscathed, but the bar owner took me into his office at the end of the night and gave me a rundown on what we needed to do to become successful in the music business, and the first thing was to get rid of that singer.

1978

First Fastbacks show, February, 1980 – any memories of it?

Oh, totally! The first Fastbacks show, it was at a rec center in a quiet neighborhood, it was three bands: The Vains, Psychopop, and The Fastbacks. We were all friends, and it was all three bands’ first shows. Very ramshackle, but we cobbled together a sound system, someone had a few lights, everyone brought what they had, and the show went on. A little rough around the edges, but the power didn’t go out, no cops were called, nothing was ruined – an early triumph for sure.

Was the power pop zeitgeist of that time a thing for Fastbacks? Did you feel a part of it?

No! For sure the New Wave was hitting strong at that point, but we were certainly not embraced by the new wavers at all. I suppose for that first year, we were pretty terrible, but we had some friends and people who wanted to give us a chance. Getting Duff (McKagan – yes, that one from Guns ‘N Roses) to play drums was the first step into making the band more listenable, but we were still a long ways off of what the general public would consider valuable music. We got kicked off of a show after our first set (of two). “That’s okay, you guys don’t have to play another set.” And I was all, “What do you mean we don’t have to?!” Oh, I get it.

Then when the hardcore bands cropped up, we were pals with some of them, but we weren’t furious enough for them really. I recall some sort of fury at a DOA/The Fartz/Fastbacks show. It required some foresight, which many didn’t possess, to support any kind of music that wasn’t 100% punk. Conversely, the proper power pop bands, well, we were a little too power and not enough pop, I reckon. We wanted to be that, but it’d take a bit still to hone those chops.

Had Duff McKagen played in any band before that?

Duff was the bass player in The Vains, who played that Laurelhurst Rec Center show. That was his first show. He must’ve been 15, barely 16?

Did he exhibit behaviors that would later align with Guns ‘N Roses’ infamous lifestyle?

We were still pretty reeled-in at that point, no one really even got plastered, no one started doing drugs yet. Might’ve been some Budweisers around, but nothing stronger yet.

Guns 'N Roses 2nd show, 1985

Got any Vains stories, recollections of a show, or the general scene from whence they came/played? Was there a good raw, original punk scene in Seattle in late '70s? I'm aware of Soldier and some other bands, but I wanna get it from the horse’s mouth.

The Vains only played three, maybe four shows total. In the late ’70s into early ’80s it was pretty hard to keep something going if you were any sort of impatient. Most bands never got the chance to play enough to iron out any difficulties, or taste any sort of real success. Lots of arguing over what direction to take, stick to your punk rock guns, and play to a rental hall of your friends; or try to get “jobs” in the bars, which would mean being stricken with the “cover band” tag, which was NOT punk.

1978

The Enemy worked the hardest, yet still couldn’t crack the code in 1979. The Telepaths, The Blackouts, The Lewd – everyone broke up, or moved away and then broke up. The Fartz made a pretty good go of it, but even they sorta morphed into Ten Minute Warning, and then morphed into an art band… The Silly Killers stayed pretty punk. The Living ripped it up for their short lifespan. But they were all in that 1982 dilemma, you can almost see a line in the sand, drawn in the summer of 1982. Not a lot of bands made it across that line that summer.

The Enemy live, 1980

If I remember it was some sort of divine intervention that The Fastbacks reconvened in 1983 to fire it up again, it was nearly the end of the line. But it was also clearly a new beginning, a new lease on life, a new crop of kids started bands in those Metropolis years; the Metropolis was a new all-ages venue that I would consider the petri dish of the next bundle of bands.

As the ‘80s took hold and punk rock hall shows were sort of the only stage for many of our bands, after a couple years of not getting to any sort of next level, it was clear that there needed to be a re-grouping of some sort. We’d see our friends’ bands get actual paying gigs in bars – if they were non-punk sounding. Of course many of the punk bands went to the dark side of ’80s metal. Everyone was looking to do something that could “go somewhere.”

Somewhere right in that 1982 corridor, drugs started flourishing, stupidity set in. Duff came with us Fastbacks as a “roadie” in 1984 down to L.A., and when we came back I reckon he moved to L.A. to escape that whole rigamarole. No one was getting anywhere here anyway. A bold move at that time, at the advanced age of 20!

1987

Word is Fastbacks have had between 12 and 20 drummers. Short of naming every single drummer, are there a few you’d like to point to as having had a particularly interesting stint; or who went on to other bands?

Gosh, all the Fastbacks drummers had something great about them. There were a few who only did one show. I publicly apologize to those who didn’t last. Those were strange times. I don’t think there are any unsolved mysteries in the Fastbacks drummer world, Dan Peters, who recorded a couple songs with us but no shows, Tad Hutchison, and Tom Hendrikson, who each did one show…. Some convoluted moments for sure, and all killer drummers!

Do you think if you would have remained drummer for Fastbacks that you would have still gotten into production?

Yeah, I think the fascination with recording was parallel to the live playing side of things, it was always there in my constitution. Wanting to learn, wanting to figure out how to make records that captured how killer bands sounded. It was such a tall order back then. Seemed like the old guard [engineers] didn’t “get it,” or were prohibitively expensive; and so many of the others didn’t sound kickass like we wanted. Of course this comes from the actual band, first and foremost; that is learned the hard way! But if the band blazes at their show, it seemed that their records should sound blazing too, but that wasn’t often the case.

1988

1989

From what I remember, the Fastbacks rep was that of the favorite local band of all the Seattle bands, and hence got on as openers for bands who would soon get huge during that whole grunge thing…

Pretty hard to say from the inside view. We had the unfortunate hurdle of being broken up from late-1988 till mid-1990. A lot of opportunity probably squandered during those times. But, unlike anyone else I can think of, we did get a second chance via Sub Pop, and another decade of rock. I know we were quite lucky in that department. We never did gigs large or small with Nirvana, Soundgarden, sort of the class of ’89. We did share a slightly miserable practice space with Green River and later Mother Love Bone. Always pals with those cats, so we did do opening stints with Pearl Jam in 1996, all around the world.

What was miserableness about it?

Oh man, that place… It was in a basement in Pioneer Square, the old, original downtown Seattle. The Great Seattle Fire devastated downtown in like 1889, and they rebuilt the city on top of the old city, one floor higher. So our basement was on the level with the old, original city; some rooting around could be done. There was no bathroom or running water down there, so you had to go to the bar a block away to use the facilities, but often you just couldn’t be bothered. In the space next to ours, it was a smashed up, decrepit old room that we moved all the garbage from our side into. No lighting of any sort, so it was all flashlights if you had them, and filling up bottles of pee and putting them where ever we could find room.

But of course we raged supreme down there, some epic parties, bands playing, and whatnot; of course no water or facilities, but grand times in the ’80s. Somehow, I ended up being in charge of paying rent, not the best job for me to take on. It meant tracking down Andrew Wood once a month and trying to get him to pay his share of their rent. First it was Malfunkshun, and Green River was there too. We might’ve blown up before Mother Love Bone started? I think I remember Green River blowing up too, after their California trek; it would’ve been not too long after that that The Fastbacks unceremoniously imploded. But for a while it was definitely a rager.

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Nifty, random link I stumbled on with some cool early Fastbacks fliers, stories, and live stuff.

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1992

While you didn't play with the "biggies" of the scene as much as I thought, got any early Nirvana or Soundgarden tale of any sort you'd like to share?

Our fabled practice basement was just a couple blocks from The Central, a venue that was sort of home base for a lot of stuff. The Vogue as well, it was on the north end of downtown, we were on the south end. Many people had keys to the place, so it was not surprising to duck in between sets at The Central, to have cheap beers or whatnot. I first saw Soundgarden at The Central, and they were certainly mind-blowing. Would’ve been ’87? Quickly became a favorite Seattle band, and when their first 7” came out, my roommates hated me. I had a tendency to play those 45’s over and over and over again. But they played The Central a lot, and just got better and better, heavier and heavier. I remember the first time they played “Beyond The Wheel”, it was at the Vogue. I was standing next to Mark Arm and we looked at each other and just said FUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHH…

The first Nirvana show I saw was also at the Vogue, it was maybe not the greatest Nirvana show, but man I thought that singer was amazing. Shortly after, Jon Poneman (Sub Pop co-founder) was at the bar there and said, “If you buy me a coffee now, I’ll give you a 45 tomorrow that will change your life.” An easy proposition. Sub Pop HQ was half a block away, he gave me a “Love Buzz” 45, and once again, the roommates had a reason to hate. I must’ve played that record 100 times in a row. Might’ve taken them a bit to find their pummeling style, but man they sure did. Then after Bleach had been out a while, all the rumors of major label this and major label that… So exciting and weird.

Who is a favorite Seattle “grunge era” band you really dug and maybe didn’t get the recognition you think it deserved? Mine are the Derelicts and Zipgun.

Of course! Pure Joy, Flop, H-Hour, the Meices – wait they were actually from SF… Huge Spacebird, Once For Kicks…. Have you got an hour or so?!

I know you are no doubt tired of this question, but do you have a late ‘80s/early ‘90s story or show that happened where you thought, “Damn, this Seattle scene thing is getting some real attention? This is fucking weird.”

After the Fastbacks blew up in 1988, I started playing with the Young Fresh Fellows, and we were off and running pretty hard right away. Certainly a parallel path from the Seattle Grunge Explosion, but a decent path it was! I was pals with Jon and Bruce (Pavitt) at Sub Pop when they started, so I’d go hang out at their early HQ/distributor place downtown. It was amazing to see some of these bands blow up when they did.

Young Fresh Fellows, 1989; Kurt Bloch far right

I suppose the thing that sealed it for me was listening to the advance cassette of Nevermind on a Young Fresh Fellows trip. Scott McCaughey had been assigned to review it for local music rag, The Rocket, and I nabbed it from him on a trip out East. It totally blew my doors wide open. Already having been a superfan since that “Love Buzz” 45, and seeing a couple of the shows they did here before going out to record that album, then hearing it for the first time on headphones; then as our tour progressed, seeing the record just going ballistic at every record store, it was just crazy. It never stopped getting bigger and bigger. This is so fucking weird!

Strange feeling of seeing a local band you saw shlubbing around town or peeing next to them at a dive, to hearing them play in a grocery store in Nevada, or whatever....

Soundgarden was the first one I remember blowing up. They went from Sub Pop to SST to A&M – they sorta seemed to have their shit together pretty well. Alice In Chains were kinda off our radar, they were only on the Rock radio stations; it wasn’t until their second album that I noticed that they actually were killer. But Nirvana, they were crazy cool from the get-go, not in the FM Rock station sort of way, but the punk underground sort of way. Plus I didn’t really know them at the beginning, so there was way more mystery about them. A couple legendary Seattle club shows before they went off to start Nevermind; the OK Hotel first playing of “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” we were just transfixed – What the fuck is this?! Then the Off Ramp show, they went on really late, and got cut off right before 2am. Somehow the club picked up the empties and let the band play on into the night, and what a show it was. Then… nothing.

Didn’t really hear anything from Nirvana ‘til the advance cassette of Nevermind went out, and of course thinking, if I like this so much, it’s probably never gonna go anywhere. Wrong. It was like a slow ball of fire, radio then record stores, like every record store playing it, every magazine… It would’ve made you hate a lesser band, but it really was great so there was a sense of pride attached to it all. Finally something we loved is big. But then how big? There seemed to be no end to it. It was everywhere. And so weird to think that kids dug something that was blazing and amazing.

Were you defacto producer of Fastbacks from the get-go of recording?

Oh for sure. Not by strong-arming anyone, but just because there was no money, and no one else could be bothered! Our first 45 was with Neil Hubbard and Jack Weaver, as we were doing a song for a Seattle comp LP, and as per the usual, just recorded some extra songs in our allotted time. The first EP was Peter Barnes, drummer for The Enemy, killer Seattle band and very much an inspiration to all the bands in the late-’70s in Seattle. Then after that, it was trial by fire.

Can you tell me more about The Enemy, and their local import?

The Enemy pretty much initiated the punk “scene” in Seattle. There were a few bands, but they started a club, it was all ages, March, 1978. Otherwise it would’ve been hall shows, but The Bird brought everyone together. Originally only open for a few months, but there were shows there every Friday and Saturday, it really did give us something to do.

My first band, The Cheaters, might not have actually played anywhere if not for them. We could have languished in my parents’ basement forever if not for being stopped by The Enemy members at a Ramones show: “Hey! Are you guys in a band? Would you want to play at our club we’re opening up in a few months?” Of course we said yes, we didn’t tell them that we were just barely a band, we’d never actually played a show, nor would we maybe ever had if not for their offer. We were just teenagers, my brother Al was still in High School. But they took us in and let us play shows. The drummer, Peter Barnes, filled in for a night our real drummer couldn’t play.

Everyone knew each other, when it was time to record what was to be The Fastbacks’ first EP, Peter volunteered to be our producer. He figured out how to get cool, kickass sounds and make things happen. No one had any money or experience so it had to be on a budget, but he made it happen. The record turned out great. “In America” was on the commercial new wave station, we thought we had it made!

I thought I knew what to do, to various degrees of success. Conrad Uno at Egg Studio did much of our first album. He was wise beyond words and also a great teacher. After that LP was finished he was all, “You can do all this, I think, I’ll be back at the end of the night to close up!” Then it seemed like the right avenue. So many producers seemed like they just wanted to add stuff in order to have their presence be felt. I always felt, like – what is the least amount of stuff we can have on here to make it happen? Less stuff, but louder. Certainly not against adding things, but also happy to leave things out as much as possible. Always loved the one-guitar bands that didn’t double everything all the time. Makes you think a little harder about what you’re doing.

1994

Okay, I will name a band, and you give me the first thing that comes to mind when you think of your production gigs with them:

Presidents of the U.S.A.

We’d do several takes of any given song, as the band was learning them, Chris (Ballew, singer) would play his two-string bass flawlessly every take, and sing a scratch vocal that could’ve been used as the keeper. Never a mistake, never less than killer every time.

Robyn Hitchcock

Also just an amazing music machine. Put him in an iso booth with a mic for vocal and one for acoustic guitar. He’d show the band a new song and go into the booth, sometimes it would just be one take and they’d nail it, with the lead vocal included. Never a lyric sheet in sight. A brain that truly works overtime. Peter Buck playing his 12-string on a song that he had just heard, and plays flawlessly the first time. Great Peter quote: “I like to get things right.” Indeed!

Fastbacks

Ha!! Some of the recording we’ve done astounds me to this day. It’s like any idea we had, we’d just do it. I swear, no one ever said, “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Listening back to the early ’90s recordings, there truly is something about inspiration and enthusiasm that really is inspiring and enthusiastic! Some of that music is pretty weird, even some songs that I wrote, I can’t imagine where they came from. I know we did them and all, but what was the impetus, where did they come from?!

Nashville Pussy

Another tale of just trying not to ruin a band that sounded killer. Amazing to think that they all fit in the tiny live room at Egg for that first album. The sheer volume of air pressure in there was unbelievable. A perfect example of what we’d set out to do, just try to not let the recording process get in the way of the recording. And nominated for a Grammy! I went with them to the Awards show – limo, booze, and afterparties. We were scheming all the horrible things that we’d say when we won the award, who we were gonna thank, who we were gonna blame. Of course there’s no way we’d win, they barely could say the name of the band when reading off the nominees! But what an experience. So many laughs.

Mudhoney

Five Dollar Bob’s Mock Cooter Stew (Reprise, 1993) doesn’t get enough props. I think it’s a great record. I really tried to make each song sound different and killer in its own way. Dan Peters (drummer) is always dishing out the quality.

Young Fresh Fellows

It’s easy to work quickly with a band you’re in. You kind of already know what’s going to happen, you know how to set up since you’ve already seen what works and what doesn’t over the last decade or two. We had intended to record maybe four or five songs for Tiempo De Lujo. Somehow we’d crammed all four of us in the basement here; after the two days we’d recorded twelve band tracks – so an album it was! Toxic Youth as well. We’d gone over to Jim Sangster’s living room to learn a few songs before starting recording the next day, and once we got going, they just kept coming and coming. When inspiration strikes, keep the tape rolling!

Can you describe Conrad Uno's Egg Studios; the kind of size or situation you were dealing with? Was there like a famous recording board there you worked with?

Egg Studio, where I and others honed their chops, was a welcome alternative to the “normal” studios of the time. It was truly a basement studio, the performance room was smaller than an ordinary living room. Many bands’ rehearsal spaces were larger than this. But it really did have a relaxed feel to it, and loud bands could all set up in the room and play live and get a good sound. Mudhoney, Nashville Pussy, Supersnazz, Devil Dogs, Supersuckers, Zeke – it was home base for so many great albums.

Conrad Uno moved into the house in maybe 1987, I reckon we finished Fastbacks …And His Orchestra there; and by early 1988, we began Very Very Powerful Motor, then the Sub Pop 7” and Zücker sessions. It began as an 8-track studio. Conrad brought in the Spectrasonics console that was formerly at Stax/Volt studio – rumored to once be owned by Paul McCartney, under whose purview a varispeed knob was installed. The knob remains, it’s Paul’s Knob. The console is now at Crackle And Pop studio here in Seattle, and is working better than ever.

Before Mudhoney began their third album, Piece of Cake, their second at Egg, they bought a 16-track machine for the studio, and that was the classic setup for so many records there in the ‘90s.

1996

I personally would love to hear about making the classic Devil Dogs album, Saturday Night Fever (Crypt/Sympathy for the Record Industry, 1994). Whose idea was it to make it kind of like a party, with friends and fans whopping it up in the studio between songs?

It was their idea from the beginning to make it a party album, “You have been invited… to a party!” Another band that didn’t need any fancy fussing about, they already sounded like a house on fire. Just tried to record them and not get in the way, make sure that the playback sounded like it did in the room with them.

Definitely the last night of the session, they invited all their Seattle friends over for a party, and we played the songs from the album through twice, if I remember, and just had a mic in the room while they were going. All the bottles clinking and all the blabbering was totally what happened. There was so little time to get everything done while we were there. They had booked two gigs on recording days – one out of town in Bellingham! Basically it was like wrangling the Three Stooges to record and mix a full album and an EP in like five days. Let’s just say that the morning hours were not particularly productive. But fortunately, when they were on, they were unstoppable. And so fuckin’ funny! What a fucking great record!

Oh yeah, definitely the most hilarious band to tour with too! We did a month with them once in Europe, traveling in the same packed little van. And even the bad hungover mornings in the van drives would lead to so much cracking up. Singer Andy G. sometimes stood up and imitated Tom Jones live. Anyway, can you recall who all was in the “crowd” on that record?

Honestly, I don’t! The studio was in a neighborhood, so all sessions had to be finished by 10pm. I loved the idea of recording a loud listening party and then mixing that in with the album, but it was so precarious to cram a bunch of drunks in the tiny studio and try to not let any gear get ruined, while still egging on loud misbehavior. Then getting all the cats out of there by 10 and not annoying Conrad or his neighbors in the process.

You must have some fun Andy G. stories too.

All three of those guys had their moments! Andy, Steve, Mighty Joe. Someone should’ve given them their own TV series. It might not have lasted very long, but what a show it would’ve been. I’ve never seen a group rile each other up the way they did. Should’ve had a room mic going constantly while they tried to make a group decision. There was way more work than we had time for. Somehow we got it all done, but just barely.

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Crypt Records, 1993

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And here’s where I decided to check in with Devil Dogs drummer, Mighty Joe Vincent, to get some more details on their Bloch party: "So, in the friends crowd [on the Saturday Night Fever album] was Eddie and Dan Bolton from the Supersuckers, James Burdyshaw and the rest of the Sinister Six, and a bunch of really cool women whose names have escaped my memory banks.

We def recorded on the Stax board. I remember because we had hopes that there was some soul residue left in the cables that might coat our tracks.

We totally loved Kurt. What’s not to love? I do remember that it was a Crypt budget recording so we had to make every minute count, so we were mixing until we were all so tired we were delirious. I’m pretty sure we went ‘til 2a.m. or something like that, but that was mixing. We did that in the middle of a tour, so we did about two weeks of gigs from NYC across this great nation of ours as well as that other great nation to our north, then out to Seattle. While we were doing it , we had a gig up in Bellingham, so we took a day off to drive up there.

I remember Scott Mccaughy was working there at Egg. I was talking to him one day and he told me his days of playing out on the road were over as his wife just had a kid and he had to be a good dad and provide a steady paycheck. I really felt bad for him. And then of course, a short time after that, Pete Buck asked him to come on the road with R.E.M. and said he would pay him a million dollars. Like an actual million dollars. That always made me happy to hear."

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And now, back to Kurt Bloch!

Who were bands you liked to tour with? And/or, a classic Fastbacks tour story?

We had some great west coast tours with DOA in the early-to-mid ’80s, they were definitely an early inspiration to go head-on and charge through best you can. They certainly blazed a trail for the rest of us to follow, doing everything themselves, like Black Flag did from Southern California. The ’80s were a rocky road for the Fastbacks. We played a lot of shows in Vancouver, BC, as well as Seattle, but it was a lot of problems and fighting, ha, and it wasn’t until the ’90s that we actually went out for any length of time – certainly getting into occasional serious trouble with The Meices, Motocaster, Gaunt, and even the New Bomb Turks!

Pearl Jam asked you to do some stadium shows in 1995, arguably the peak grunge year. How did you relate to the whole fame/stadium situation surrounding those shows?

It was January ’95, Pearl Jam asked us to play a radio show from their rehearsal space. I kinda didn’t know what they were talking about, and maybe sort of blew it off. I was trying to finish a Sicko record that night, couldn’t be bothered. I did like their Vitalogy record, “Not For You,” “Spin The Black Circle.” The rest of the Fastbacks were all, “C’mon, we’re doing this!” And I grudgingly told Sicko I was going to have to leave early. I didn’t even bring a guitar, I knew that Stone had a cool ‘50s Gold Top, maybe I could use that.

Then of course we get there and it’s really fun, just a big party scene, tons of buddies and band cats. We played three songs on the Pearl Jam gear setup, maybe Kim talked on the radio, drank some beers, great time! That was cool enough, but then they asked us to open a few shows at the end of the year, Salt Lake City and San Jose I think, and we’re all like, “Hell yeah!” And everything went well, then, “Would you want to go do a U.S. tour, oh and maybe a Europe tour following that…?” And we were all, “Hellz yeah!” And that all went great, clearly we would be the next big thing, the world is gonna love us, nothing holding us back now! We had a great record out, New Mansions In Sound (Sub Pop, 1996). Man, that was it – lots and lots of fun, great shows. We invented an auxiliary opening band for some of the shows, The What. We played Who tunes with Eddie Vedder incognito with a wrestling mask. We drag Mike McCready out for jams, Stone Gossard to sing one of his PJ songs, Eddie did “Leaving Here” with us a couple times, just great rock times in the giant venues. Somehow it didn’t lead to us being the Next Big Thing, but it was fun to pretend for a few months.

1994

Any good backstage shenanigans stories?

There weren’t a whole lot of super shenanigans. They had an espresso machine onstage every night, so we’d all slug down coffees, blast through our tunes, and then get drunk and watch Pearl Jam. Sometimes we would annoy their wonderful crew by being loud and boisterous aside of the stage, spilling bottles of wine or whatnot, but not much more than that. Everyone got along really well, and it was well-protected against after show bullies or negativity. We’d just keep on our course, often ‘til the huge sports arena closed down and they’d kick us out after everything had been loaded out – and we’d still be back there cranking tunes and running around.

It was totally like an arena-sized version of a living room party most every night. Their crew moved all the gear, we barely had to do anything except play every night.

I know you knew some of their members from earlier in the scene, but did you know Eddie Vedder before he got asked to join Pearl Jam?

I might not have met Eddie until the live radio show we did? He came up from San Diego. Didn’t know him before then at all, but we were fast friends. We would spend hours talking about the Who and riding around on the catering carts and smashing into the walls of the arenas. Come to think of it, we were probably very annoying. But no one, like, smashed up their hotel rooms or anything. It was probably comparatively tame.

Might sound weird, but while playing in the Seattle scene -- which is generally described as kind of serious, or dark, or junkies, or you know, “grungy” – did you and the Fastbacks feel kind of out-of-place; or are those kind of definitions of grunge and that town/time not correct?

The Seattle “thing” certainly was a dark, serious sound. That isn’t to say that every musician was dark and serious, but that darkness prevailed. To say The Fastbacks felt a little out of place at that point would be correct; but I always thought we were here first. It’s not like we didn’t dig lots of the bands, but it also wasn’t like we would try to take them on at their own game. It just wouldn’t’ve happened. We did do a version of “Swallow My Pride” – Green River’s, not The Ramones – on Sub Pop 200 [compilation], after a Soundgarden version too; but it ended up being menacing only in a Blue Öyster Cult sort of way, rather than ala either previous version. Slow and heavy just wasn’t in our DNA.

Columbus, OH, 1993 (Courtesy of Bela Koe-Krompecher)

I remember when Fastbacks stayed with New Bomb Turks while on tour in 1993, you guys, well I think specifically Lulu, made an amazing Thai meal for us. Did you always cook for bands you crashed with, or just for us ‘cuz we’re so awesome and nice?

Ha. I think the wonderful cooking was a bit of a rarity. We weren’t much of a crash on people’s floor kind of band by the ’90s, but sometimes it was great to have a day off and some good ideas! Remember that Metallica VHS box set had just come out, and we watched it ‘til the end because Lulu and I both worked on the film crew for the shows they filmed in Seattle, and we wanted to see if we, several years after the actual shows, got any credits at the end… and sure enough we did. Reason to celebrate!

Columbus seemed to love you. What were some other fave towns you played?

Always a great time in Columbus. Not necessarily Cleveland though. We weren’t the hard-touring road warriors that a lot of the other (more successful) bands were. It was whatever city we had friends in that were the best. Vancouver BC, San Francisco, L.A., NYC, maybe Albany, Columbus, Istanbul…

Contract and ticket for 1993 Columbus, OH show. (Courtesy of Bela Koe-Krompecher)

Highly technical and professional stage diagram implorations, Columbus, OH, 1993 show (Courtesy of Bela Koe-Krompecher)

I could be wrong, but you didn’t go over to Europe a lot, did you? Were you able to procure any production work from Euro bands you met whilst on tour there?

Oddly, not a lot of Euro tours… Seems like we should’ve done more, but there was always something. Young Fresh Fellows did some great trips, especially in Spain. Fastbacks Spanish tour was a bit of a dog’s breakfast. Not because of the people in Spain, no sir. We certainly lit it up in Japan once, though!

I did a couple albums for Les Thugs, the French band. One of them in Seattle and one in Angers. May have been bookended with some music travel. It’s amazing to look back at the old calendars and see that between tours with the Fastbacks and Young Fresh Fellows, recording with those two bands and recording other bands. Man, there were times when there was nary a day off, those ‘90s months were packed! Gotta consider myself pretty lucky. And so many killer records I got to be part of.

As a producer, do you feel you are mainly bringing an “ear” to finding the sounds the band wants, or do you try to gently impose a certain style and sensibility over the whole production?

Always try to keep the kickass factor high. I would never try to impose anything other than to try to keep everyone happy so they could do their best work, and not do the same bit over and over and over. Work hard and play hard, but not to overanalyze every little thing. Not under-analyze either, but if it’s killer, it doesn’t matter if everything “lines up” perfectly, or if the choruses speed up a little bit. Try to capture what is great about a band live in concert, and not dilute that if you can help it. Don’t add a bunch of crap just to put your mark on a project.

It's interesting how you professed a love for prog, but you had an innate sense of not always overdubbing too much – note your comment about loving bands that only had one guitar, etc.

The true exciting prog bands started coming out around 1968 and ’69, Yes, Genesis, King Crimson, Van Der Graaf Generator; Pink Floyd and Moody Blues had already been around but maybe weren’t quite included. Recording technique at the time was still fairly straightforward for the most part, there was of course room for overdubbing on an eight-track machine, but most of the first-wave prog bands’ recordings were not overloaded with overdubs. The magic was what they did with their four or five musicians, the arrangements you hear on the record were the same instrumentation as they played live. Some of the songs would have been concocted in a studio, but it wasn’t until later that walls of overdubs became commonplace.

That’s where the greatness of the original bands lies – cool vocal arranging and melding several songs’ worth of ideas into one track. Not a lot of room for squirminess either, it wasn’t so easy punching in on a giant eight-track tape machine in 1968. You made one mistake on that verse? You do the whole thing again!

Okay, gotta ask, with as much exposition as you’d like – what was your favorite recording session(s); and worst recording session(s)?

Pretty much always subverted the disasters. A time or two I told a band, after seeing a live show, that they weren’t quite ready to record yet; play a few more shows and practice a lot, record your practices and actually listen to them constructively. Studio time is expensive, practice time is (or at least was) cheap. You don’t have to have every bit of every song nailed down exactly, but do have most everything pretty well figured out, and be ready for criticism during the recording. If the rhythm isn’t working, be prepared to fine-tune your part so it is; if your harmony vocal is a half-step off, go ahead and adjust!

Some of the great sessions are those where I feel that I learned things, a new piece of gear, a new way of looking at things. Overwhelming Colorfast, Supersuckers, Les Thugs in France, The Meices in Florida… Or the records that just slammed out of nowhere. Devil Dogs, Flop, Supersnazz, Nashville Pussy. So many first albums by bands where they have been playing the songs at shows for a year or two, the tempos are up, the blood is pumping, get rid of the headphones and make it like you’re playing a gig. Play the song three times without stopping. Play three different songs in a row without stopping.

1999 (Courtesy of your's truly)

You’re still actively producing. What have you worked on recently you’d like to highlight? And what’s coming up?

There’s always some great Seattle band records going on – Bürien, 38 Coffin, Once For Kicks, Insect Man, The Drolls, Zack Static. These days, some records take a while to finish, I suppose it’s the nature of the business now. Trying now to clean the slate and get these out the door before starting new ones!

And there’s maybe a new Fastbacks coming, no?

There was no plan of any sort. We were having lunch as we sometimes do, and started talking about a couple songs it would be fun to learn and maybe record. Our pal Joe “Meice” Reineke had recently finished an ambitious and fantastic recording building in his back yard; wouldn’t it be fun to check that out….? Well let’s call him and see what his schedule is. Oh! he’s got a day open, whaddayasay, let’s take it. Well there’s a few other songs we could learn, let’s make it two days… I guess we’d better practice… What if we did enough songs for an album? Maybe we did! Got some band tracks, everyone played their butts off! Now we gotta make more magic. No target completion date nor avenue to release, but everyone is excited to finish it!

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Post Script: This article sprung from an editor at a national mag asking if I wanted to do a story on Kurt Bloch, which of course I said yes to cuz Kurt's a great guy and I've been a Fastbacks fan for a goodly spell. But some months passed and plans changed, and so here it is! Also, I would've put more videos in this piece because the Fastbacks have a ton of great songs, but I guess I just learned there is a 10-video limit for a tumblr post. Who knew?

All images courtesy of Kurt Bloch, except where noted.

[colonoscopys]

I AM THE ANON ALWAYS ASKING FUN QUESTIONS :D bc your answers are genuinely so fun to read like the pastry one was so detailed. love it <3 anyway new question what color would each member of the 118 be

you are SOOOOO sweet i like you so much. here you go i hope this one is nice for you too

this is going to be highly debated. i respect that

so bobby would be hex code color d7ae04:

so bobby would be yellow because he is from midwest and corn. kidding. he wouldn't JUST be yellow corn, he would be a little darker because he reflects darker tones through his backstory and character. i think when he cooks (soup, specifically) in his house this is the color that he emits. i like that it's a little darker but not too dark, and it's a little light as well because i think he's got this golden retriever charm amidst the darkness.

now you might think NEXT. would be buck, his golden retriever son. however i think that eddie is hex code 331800

now this isn't just a brown. this has hints of magenta and gold if you look really really close. i also think that it's a little similar to bobby's yellow, just a couple shades off. the only thing i have to base off of this comparison is that i think if you dug your face into eddie's t-shirt in a comforting moment, this would be the shirt color he was wearing. it just fits. another color i would choose for him would be F0EAD6, which is eggshell. i think the reason i chose this color is because he looked really sexy wearing this colored sweater that one christmas episode.

now we have buck. buck is obviously some sort of blue. now i don't think we can go with the color of his eyes (some sources say baby blue. idk.) but i think we have a more richer blue that's associated with him this is hex code AK11181

i think this is the most fitting because the guy is such an emerald tone dude. also, it's closest color to the LAFD t-shirts, which make up a large part of him. also he has a lot of trauma with water and rain

hen is either emerald green or deep orange. i think deep orange because she exhibits strong leadership tendacies like bobby, but green because it's such a beautiful color which fits her :D i don't know why but when imagining these colors i thought about her pretty glasses

this is the colors im imaginging: hex code 1A4C39 and hex code 0xFFBF360C (...irish queen?)

chimney is purple, but a light lavender purple. i think this fits because maddie is purple too, but also because i think purple overall can mean some DEEP SHIT, but light purple brings a little whimsy and joy to a serious core. also i think chimney is so very bisexual and this is such a bisexual color. i think one time jee says he likes this color, and he inhabits the Immigrant Father Core and starts buying everything in this color

this is hex code: ddd5f3

ravi is red. simply because he is indian and it reminds me of the vermillion. all indian mothers emit this color sometimes, and he is like my indian mother. also because when i close my eyes and imagine him like a blob, he's dark red at the center and then streaming out reds and baby pinks

this is hex code 610000

addition: here's seti's rendition:

[mrs-dragneel-stark-solo]

Unforseen Chasm (Part 64)

Part 64 of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count: 2655 Warnings: Language, dark moment for reader, 5 yrs after the snap, grief, anger, killing spree, new love, endgame plot, enter Uncle  Wade Wilson,hope, worry, 

Song for this part: Cruel Summer- Taylor Swift Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93​ what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

“Don’t kill me, I have family,” the man begged.

“So did I.”

You charged the knife and flung it at his head, stabbing him between the eyes instantly killing him.

That was the last of one of the cartels in Brazil. He was a ruthless, horrible man that you’d been tracking for two months. Him and about ten others who worked for him. But you’d just single handedly killed all ten of them in their warehouse.

About eight months ago, you ran into Clint Barton. Apparently, when the snap happened, he lost his entire family and went off the deep end like you did. He was filled with bitter rage. Wondering why monsters like this survived and his family was gone. You were both tracking the same people and when you found each other, you agreed to stay together. It made sense and both of you felt like it was nice to see a familiar face with a similar past and same vendetta.

Remy followed you everywhere. He stayed in horrible hotels and motels, just to follow you around. Sometimes he followed you on your missions, lingering in the shadows making sure you didn’t get hurt or need backup. You and Clint sometimes fought together, so he wasn’t too worried, but other times you two worked separate jobs or different jobs in the same area, and that’s when Remy would watch out for you.

You came back to the room you’d rented. Since the job was done, you’d pack, sleep, and move onto the next target you’d talked about with Clint. Remy stayed out of the way of you two, never saying or offering any judgment or criticism. He understood the path you two were on. He didn’t like it, and he didn’t think it was bringing you much joy, but this was what you wanted, and to be honest, the world was better without the people you were killing.

By now it had been five years since the snap. Your first year was filled with global travel then settling down in New Orleans. The second year you tried to find domestic bliss with Remy, the two of you having steady jobs. Then the last 3 years were filled with hate, rage, murder, vendettas.

What you did… what you were doing… it didn't bring you joy, but it made you feel better for a split second that horrible people weren't ruining good people's lives.

Remy had been great since the day he showed up in Paris. He had been understanding of Loki and never pressured you to move on. Remy understood where he stood in your heart and he accepted it because this was all he had wanted for many years. He wished he didn't have to watch you suffer and grieve to get to this point, he somehow wished things were different in that he was your first choice and not Loki. But ultimately, he respected your heart's desires.

Truthfully, you did love Remy. You had told Shannon what seemed like centuries ago that perhaps in another life where you didn't know Loki existed or had never met him, Remy would be your one and only. Now that Loki was gone though, it felt so wrong. It felt wrong to be happy, to even think of moving on, to even entertain the idea of loving another.

Half of you couldn’t imagine moving on without Loki - he was your life, your life, your world. He’s the one you wanted to share your life with. The other half felt guilty to experience any happiness, because it was your fault the world was the way it was. Why should you get a happy ending when it was your fault everyone was in this living Hell?  

But your heart doesn’t listen to logic or reason. You didn’t mean to fall in love...

This had been on your mind for quite some time. Perhaps right after he almost proposed was when you started to really take notice of him. But it wasn't until maybe three months ago, almost five years after the snap, that you felt like you could maybe allow yourself to love him back.

You weren't ready to give up on Loki, or even consider moving on, but perhaps there was room enough for more than one love in your heart.

Remy had been nothing but kind, sweet, understanding, and supportive. He let you grieve and deal with things the way you needed to. If you ever asked for space, or pulled away from a kiss, he didn't get upset or disappointed. He'd just assure you it was alright. He was with you, day in and day out, practically since the snap happened. Without him, you weren’t sure you would’ve survived this long.

After all that, and everything you went through as children together, how could you not love him?

Simple: you did.

“How’d it go?” Remy asked once you got inside the hotel room. He was reading a magazine at a bar in the little kitchenette the place offered.

“Job’s finished,” you answered simply.

“So it’s Japan next?”

“Yep.”

You started to grab some quick food to make yourself some dinner. “I’m sorry to do this to you. To drag you all over the world for some… vendetta.”

“It’s alright. I know why you have to do it,” he assured.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you smiled, pulling the food from the cabinet. Something in you told you he needed to know how you felt. That it was the right time, if there ever was a right time.

It was time to face the harsh reality that Loki wasn’t coming back. None of them were. You couldn’t live every day in his memory, drowning in grief and depression. It was time to move forward, as hard as it was, you knew it was the right decision. And doing it with Remy wouldn’t be so bad, right? He was a wonderful man with a big heart.

"For whatever it's worth, I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?” you asked through tears as you turned around to face him, a bit of a laugh coming out of you.

He looked up grinning like the devil. “I think that’s the best news I ever heard,” he countered, getting up to round the bar before he took you in a hug. “I know that was hard for you to say, cher, but I love you all the more for it,” he assured softly as he brushed his knuckles across your face.

You gently smiled before giving him a quick kiss.

It looked like this was the start to the beginning of a new chapter for you.

---------------------------------

You were in Japan now, taking care of one of the mafia that had been in power for decades here. You just decimated one of their safehouses, leaving a pile of bodies behind you. Clint was digging up more information at the moment and he would take the next hit on the mob.

Just as you grabbed Remy to go find some dinner, you two were walking down the street, it was wet from a recent rainstorm when you suddenly heard someone say your name from behind you as they grabbed your hand.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” Wade said. “Of course your Y/N who am I kidding”. He went to pull your hand.

The sudden action made you move reflexively.

As you spun, you charged his hand and as he pulled away to gasp in pain, you mustered up your dark electrical purple energy in your left fist and slammed it into his chest, the heel of your palm colliding with his sternum. It sent him flying backwards into a cart on the sidewalk. You straightened up before glancing back to Remy, confusion on your face.

“You’re not exactly friendly, are you?” the man asked as you stared at him. He was getting up, wiping the debris off himself. He was clad in a red and black suit from head to toe. “Should have known better than to try that.” His tone had a sort of whimsy to it , almost as if he was telling a joke.

“Who the hell are you?” you all but growled, your fist raised and still glowing.

Remy came up behind you though and gently lowered your arm. “Cher, I know this man.”

“You know him?” you accused, as if knowing this idiot was an inexcusable offense.

“Unfortunately, yes. This is Wade Wilson. He’s an X-Man,” Remy explained.

“Correction I am not an X-men,” he offers his hand. “Deadpool’s the name killing’s my game.” He pretended to curtsey.

Your eyes shot back to the man now known as Wade and you narrowed your gaze. “Why are you here? What do you want with me?”

“First of all, let me just say wow about that little trick of yours. Also to be fair, you overreacted,” he quipped.

“Overreacted? Some stranger just grabbed my hand. You're lucky I didn’t kill you. Now what the hell are you doing here?”

“Listen here, buttercup, I’m here on a favor of Shannon Stark. Remember her?”

Your mouth fell open slightly. “You know Shannon?”

“Yeah, we go way back!” He waved his hand. “I babysit her kid time from time but the point is, she wanted me to find you, to bring you home. She’s worried about you or something. I wasn’t really listening. I just owe her a favor so I got the gist of the mission and then said, ‘You owe me one hundred chimichangas and not the cheap stuff because I know Stark can afford the nice ones so don’t even think about skimping on --”

“Do you ever stop talking?” you interjected, glaring at him. “Wait, did you say Shannon’s kid?” This hit you like a wrecking ball.

Shannon had a child? There was… she… a child? You couldn’t wrap your head around it.

“No, he doesn’t,” Remy responded as he stared him down. “Wade, go on home now. Y/N and I don’t wanna go back. We’re happy and we are on our own.”

“Yeah see that wasn’t really part of the contract. I’m supposed to bring you back and --”

“Sorry to disappoint, but you can’t bring me back, I’m not going.”

“You’re gonna break Shannon’s heart,” he said with fake sadness.

“I already did, but nice try.” You turned and started to walk away.

“Well too bad because I don’t take no for an answer so gear up, we’re heading back now.” He went to pick you up. “And don’t try doing that little trick of yours again. Shannon said to bring you back but she didn't say in what condition.” Deadpool smirked.

“I already told you, asshat, I’m not going anywhere with you,” you replied and jumped back flaring up your purple energy. “You can just tell her you haven't found me.”

“Well it looks like that won’t be necessary. See the thing is she already knows you’re here.” Wade sing-songs. “When you weren't looking, I sent coordinates and they had been on standby.”

“You what?!” you all but shouted, terror snaking in your voice. “Remy, we have to go.” You started to turn and grab his sleeve.

Unbeknownst to you, Shannon had already gotten there and was waiting for the moment to appear.

“Are you really going to be a sack of unicorn shit and just break her heart like that?” Wade asked, cocking his head. “So much for being a good sister.”

Feeling guilty you turned to him. “She’s survived without me for this long I’m sure she’s more than fine.” You shook her head. “And what's a little heartbreak when she’s fine?”

Just then Shannon walked out of the alley she and Natasha had been waiting in. Both women went their separate ways. Shannon to you and Nat to Clint.

“So you’re really okay with breaking my heart after everything we’ve been through?” Shannon called out loud enough for you to hear. “What happened to being family?”

The sound of her voice cut you like a knife.

“You’ve got your own family now, it sounds like. I thought you’d be better off without me, and it appears I was right.” You let your hands span out beside you before falling, a sad smile on your face.

“Y/N, you’ve been gone for 5 years! You have no idea what's happened in that time.” She shook her head. “We may have found a way to reverse what Thanos did, but we need you—I need you.” She stretched her hand out to you.

“Sorry to ruin the moment but I’ve done my part,” Wade interrupted the moment. “Now when do I get my chimichangas?”

You eyed Wade for a moment, irritated with him after only five minutes. Then your gaze shot to Shannon’s hand.

“Really, Wade? Couldn’t this wait till after we got back?” Shannon asked, looking a little annoyed. “Plus they’re at the cabin, hidden because you got Morgan addicted to those!” she retorted.

Sheepish, he ducked his head. “It’s not my fault the kid hasn't tried all the good stuff.” Shrugging, he added, “It’s not like they’ll harm her anyways.”

“Just get back to the quinjet.” Shannon turned her head facing you again as Wade retreated. “Sorry about that, he can be a lot to handle sometimes.”

“Clearly. Much like, was it, Morgan? A child? You have a child?” There was venom and betrayal in your voice. Although, to be fair, she had no way to reach out to you to give you any news. That was on you.

“We can talk all about it, if you come back with me.”

“Why do you need me?” you questioned.

“It’s an all hands on deck sort of situation. You’re just about the only one who stands a chance against him.”

“But last time--”

“Last time was different. We know what we’re up against now. There may be a way to reverse it. To get everyone back.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. You hadn’t cried over Loki in some time. He was on your mind, every day, always, but the grief laden sobs had slowly died down over the last five years.

“Don’t promise something you can’t deliver,” you warned, your fist balled up. You could tell Remy was getting worried at your side. “I can’t go through this again.”

She stepped even closer to you, taking your hand. “You won’t. We will win this time. I promise. You need to come home, Y/N. It’s time.”

You looked back to Remy who gave you a look that told you this was your choice, your call. You knew he’d follow you anywhere, no matter what you chose.

You heaved a sigh and turned back to Shannon, giving a firm nod to let her know you were in. This is what you’d been waiting for. Now it was finally here, and even if it meant possibly losing everything again, going through the same pain again, it was worth it to try and get everyone back. To get him back.

Once everyone was back on the quinjet. Things got a bit quieter. You had fallen asleep, leaning on Remy. Shannon walked over to the two of you and covered you in a blanket.

“Here, she’ll get cold soon, she always does when she’s on here.” She smiled sadly seeing just how tired and bruised you looked. “I’ll let Tony know you’ll be staying with us. Did you want to share the room with Y/N or your own?” she asked, unsure of the situation.

“We can share a room, that'll be fine. Thank you, Shannon. It’s good to see you again.”

“Okay. Is there anything you guys might need right away? It’s good to see you too.”

Remy shook his head. “Nah, we should be good. Thank you though.”

“Alright then but if anything comes to mind let me know okay?”

“Will do.”

Unforseen Chasm Tag list- @reigningqueenofwords​ @oldfreakything​ @adefectivedetective​ @dontbetooobvious​

Tag list- @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you​ @winchester-writes​ @winchesterenthusiast​ @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog   @sammysbuttcheek @misz-adrii @sandlee44 @womanxofletters @natsuccs @childishhoebinoo @expecteddifferent @girl-next-door-writes @fanaticfanfiction @dakotapaigelove @sassy-spn-knight-of-hell @reigningqueenofwordsmain @oldfreakything

Marvel: @reigningqueenofwords @flowerbunbunny @zelda2248 @misz-adrii

[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic - Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer (2/?)

Title: Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer Summary: Brooke Lynn is a graduate student anxiously embracing her new position as her favorite dance professors’ new TA. Vanessa is a sophomore dance major who just might make her way into being more than the teacher(assistant)’s pet. (lesbian/university AU) Word Count: ~2.4k (this chapter)/~5k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Vanessa ‘Vanjie’ Mateo/Brooke Lynn Hytes) Rating: T Note(s): rating is subject to change, this is based on the story so far

Read on AO3 | Ch. 1 

While it is called the ‘fall semester’, classes always start during the summer, often at the end of August. This gave way for heatwaves hitting in the middle of the week, especially in densely-packed places like New York City. No one talks about this time of year in the city that never sleeps – it is devoid of the awe and whimsy that so often surrounded it in media. Artists don’t wax poetic about days like this, where the air is thick and hazy and smells of sweat and melting garbage. Where, despite it being the lunch rush, the streets were scare, and everyone is hiding in the comfort of air conditioning or high-powered fans.

Cut to the graduate student residence hall – more specifically, Brooke’s apartment. There, she and Nina sat on the floor in sports bras and shorts, drinking glass after glass of ice water and being eternally grateful that the a/c had been fixed just before the start of the semester. Nina looked on as Brooke stared catatonically at the ceiling and nudged her leg with her foot to get her attention. “I don’t think I’ve ever had to say this to anyone but myself, but I think you’re being overdramatic,” she told her.

“I’m not!” Brooke sighed in exasperation. “It’s only day two of the school year and I’ve already kissed a student. I couldn’t manage a full twenty-four hours on campus without jeopardizing everything,” she groaned, now laying on the floor. “It wasn’t even a cute cheek kiss, I almost slipped her tongue, Nina!”

Nina didn’t mean to laugh, trying to cover her mouth when she snorted. “What exactly do you think is going to happen? That she’s gonna tell Katya? That Katya’s gonna fire you?” she didn’t let her answer before she continued, “I don’t think you’re actually afraid of getting in trouble. I think you’re afraid of catching feelings for this girl.”

“Thanks for the insight, Dr. Phil,” Brooke huffed and pushed herself back into a sitting position. “Look, just because she’s beautiful, funny, and kissing her made me feel like glitter was exploding inside of me, doesn’t mean I’m about to fall for her.”

Nina stared at her blankly, hardly able to believe the level of denial she was stuck in. “Do you hear yourself? Because you sound ridiculous.” She swung her legs over to the side so she could shift and look at her. “You know it isn’t the end of the world to have a crush on someone, right? It’s a thing that happens to most of us humans every now and then.”

Brooke groaned and buried her head in her hands. “But why did it have to hit me now?” she couldn’t help but wonder, if it was in another time and place, would she be this stressed over the encounter? She supposed it was possible that she would try to find another excuse, or maybe she’d be in Vanessa’s bed instead.

“Because sometimes life is an asshole that takes its joy in screwing with you, and you just have to tough it out. That’s how I got into comedy,” doing improv and stand-up had become Nina’s way of coping, and Brooke’s way of coping was…not.

And she couldn’t counter her point either, leaving her pouting and looking at the floor. “So, what am I supposed to do in class tomorrow?”

Nina shrugged. “Just try not to make a big deal of things, it’ll just be business as usual. I’m sure she’s just as nervous and confused as you are.”

“She wants me,” Vanessa said to her friends. They were all sat in the dining hall during lunch, the group having just listened with interest as she recounted the events of the day before.

“You sound real confident about someone that deadass ran away from you,” A’keria retorted, pointing her fork at her as she spoke.

Vanessa shook her head, swallowing the food in her mouth before speaking. “Nah it wasn’t a ‘running away’ moment. She just got cold feet, I ain’t taking it personally,” she sat upright with a smug grin, proving a sincerity in her belief.

“So, what are you gonna do next? Like in class?” she furrowed her brows.

That was when she realized she hadn’t actually planned ahead, which was never her strength in the first place. While it was often a hindrance academically, she usually enjoyed the spontaneity that came with potential budding romances. But with Brooke? She might have to take another approach. “Gotta play the long game, babe.”

“The long game?” Blair chimed in. While she had a girlfriend, she was endlessly interested in her and A’keria’s dating lives – especially comparing and contrasting the two. They were both extroverts that thrived at a good party or club and were openly flirtatious with whoever caught their eye. The difference, perhaps, was the number of girls that caught their respective eyes – A’keria didn’t like leaving any outing empty-handed, while Vanessa had the tendency to pick and choose, even when drunk beyond belief.

Vanessa clicked her tongue and smirked. “She ain’t just gonna get with me overnight – you gotta finesse that shit when you’re aiming for, you know, a lady of Brooke Lynn’s caliber.”

“As opposed to us hoes?” A’keria arched her brow.

“Exactly, bitch!” Vanessa laughed.

“I think it’s sweet,” Blair hummed. “You’re changing your major to Brooke!” she said to a pair of blank stares. “Fun Home? Seriously? God, I waste my best musical theatre material on you guys,” she huffed.

Even though Vanessa didn’t understand the joke, she understood what Blair was getting at. Out of curiosity, she looked up the song she’d referenced, listening to it on her walk to class. “Oh, I get it now. That was clever,” she said to herself before she sat down in the lecture hall.

The class was about half full when she arrived, students filing in for the next five minutes or so. At one point, a girl took the seat next to her. She sat poised and upright – Vanessa wondered if she was a dancer too. “Nice bling you got there,” she told her, gesturing to the large earrings that stood out against her shaved head.

“Thanks,” she replied, casually looking her over. “I’m Yvie.”

“Vanjie.”

She quirked her brow. “Is that your given name?”

“No, it’s Vanessa. But that’s what I go by,” she replied, rifling through her bag and humming quietly to herself as she took what she needed out.

Yvie nodded in understanding, looking forward and scribbling aimlessly along the margins of her notebook paper. “So, what’s your major?”

“Brooke.”

“What?”

Vanessa’s eyes widened and she shrunk down, momentarily considering walking right out of the class and calling it a day. “Dance! I-I meant to say dance,” she sputtered out. Oh, she was going to get Blair later. It was her damn fault bringing up that musical.

“I’m not even gonna ask, girl,” Yvie shook her head. It was more out of sympathy, seeing how embarrassed she was, than an actual lack of interest. Frankly, she was much more tempted to press for more information, but then the professor called attention to the front of the class, and the various conversations died down, much to Vanessa’s relief.

Wednesday morning, on its own, seemed to promise a better day. The heatwave had passed, and the city was bustling with its usual energy. Even in the dance studio, Katya was the first one to arrive, which gave Brooke – who came in next – one less thing to worry about. She decided not to tell her about the kiss, lest she be subjected to an ‘I told you so’, making her hope all the more that the class would go by without incident.

Brooke scanned the room as each student entered, trying to make it seem like she was paying every one of them the same amount of attention. But then Vanessa walked in and suddenly no one else existed. This time she had on shorts and a tank top, and her hair was tied into a neat bun, and Brooke was able to study her for a good couple moments before their eyes met.

“Morning, Brooke,” Vanessa still seemed happy to see her, but her tone was calmer, more controlled. It was the same tone she had when she comforted her in Starbucks, and it brought on the same sense of ease it had then.

It baffled her, when she thought about it. Brooke’s emotions were so easily swayed – Vanessa could get her riled up and calmed down within the same conversation. That sort of thing might bother others, but it had something of an addictive quality to it. She wanted to get to know her more, to get another hit of her energy. “Good to see you, Vanjie,” she replied. And she meant it, truly.

After Brooke took attendance, Katya stood at the front of the class to begin the lecture. “Today we’re going to work on having to work with a partner. I know you guys touched on some dances last year, so we’re going to build off of that. I’m just going to go down the line and pair everyone up,” she paired up everyone as she walked across the studio, until she got down to the last three girls. “Looks like we’ve got an odd number today.”

One girl shrugged. “It’s fine, we can work in a gr—”

“No, no that just work,” she looked at the three girls, making it seem like she was really thinking about it. “You two pair up. Vanjie, you can work with Brooke,” she announced, actively refusing to acknowledge the way Brooke was staring her down.

The devil works hard, but Katya works harder, Brooke thought as she got up and went to sit by her new dance partner. She tuned out while Katya explained what dance steps they’d be doing – she had gone through all of this before and knew it by heart – especially considering how many times she had gone over the lesson plans. Instead, she took that time to remind herself to stay calm, that the only reaction she should have is no reaction at all.

“You ever tango before?” Brooke asked as she, Vanessa, and everyone else got to their feet.

“You heard her, we did this last year,” Vanessa shrugged as a simple tango tune filled the room from the speaker Katya hooked up to her laptop.

And each set of partners assumed the starting position – one hand on the other’s shoulder and the others clasped together out to the side. Some students were counting the steps out loud, while others were doing turns and back cortes.

Unsurprisingly, Vanessa was on the more advanced end of the spectrum, demonstrated both by her skill and her desire to take control. “Why can’t you let me lead?” she huffed.

“Grow six inches and we’ll talk,” Brooke retorted, dipping her in time with the music, earning her a scowl from the shorter girl, but she only found it as cute as her smile. Almost as if to further flaunt her size advantage, she moved her arm around Vanessa’s waist, lifting her up for a twirl.

But Vanessa was quick on her feet. She landed and wrapped a leg around her waist, and Brooke put a hand on her thigh and pulled her close. Another dip, and back up. As the music died down, they came to a stop, breathing heavily, close enough for their breath to hit each other’s faces.

“Now that’s a tango, ladies!” Katya had apparently been going from pair to pair, coaching and critiquing, not that this pair would’ve noticed. “I call it The Tango: Branjie!” she said with jazz hands for flourish. “Get it? Because, you know, you—and she—" she looked around at the stone-faced class. “Damn, tough crowd. Class dismissed,” she shrugged and walked to turn off her laptop.

“For the record,” Brooke said as she set Vanessa down and took a few cautious steps back, “as the student, I think you should get the credit. It’s called The Tango: Vanjie now,” she turned to gather her things, but Vanessa didn’t budge.

“I like the ring that has to it, but I ain’t leaving til we talk about that kiss,” she stood firmly, hands on her hips and head held high, only to cock a bit to the side as her pursed lips twitched to a smirk. “Or til I get another one.”

So that was how it was going to be. Brooke was impressed by Vanessa’s boldness, and perhaps a bit aroused. She gently placed her fingers under her chin, tilting her head up and pressing a kiss to her lips. “Goodbye, Vanjie,” she whispered sweetly, tapping her cheek lightly before sending her on her way. It was when she stood back up and turned to pick her bag up that she let out a frustrated groan. “Fuck, you’re still here.”

Katya was bouncing on the balls of her feet with a cheshire grin. “This is the best moment of my fucking career, bitch,” she ran over to Brooke and grabbed her hands, jumping up and down. “You guys are gonna have such crazy sex!”

Brooke’s eyes widened and she clapped her hand over Katya’s mouth. “Not if you keep running your fucking mouth!” she hissed in a stage whisper. She waited a beat, then let her hand drop to the side. “I swear, if you breathe a word—”

“Would you turn the paranoia down for like, five minutes to realize no one’s out to get you for whatever happens between you and Vanjie?” Katya gripped on to Brooke’s shoulders. “I think you need to go home, have a drink and a smoke, and go rub one out. You’ve got plenty of new material, now,” she bumped her elbow into her side.

Brooke exhaled and shook her head. “I’m gonna kill you,” she muttered before stepping out of the studio. She had only taken a couple steps towards the exit when she paused and turned around. Of course.

“So,” Vanessa pushed herself off the wall and took a half-step towards Brooke. “You off to follow Professor Katya’s advice?” she asked with the same type of grin the aforementioned woman had.

“No,” Brooke scoffed and tossed her hair off her shoulder. She waited until she saw something of a disappointed look on her face before adding “I’ve been trying to quit smoking,” she bit her lip and winked before turning on her heel and walking out of the building.

Vanessa was left stunned, but well-affected, nonetheless. “Just keep playing the long game, Vanjie. She’ll come around.”

[doomonfilm]

Ranking : Quentin Tarantino (1963 - present)

When it comes to connecting ‘cool’ with cinema of the past 3 decades, the name that often skyrockets to the top of most lists is Quentin Tarantino.  With a distinct flare for mixing varied genres with the grace of a DJ, a unique tone in terms of both dialogue and humor, and more controversy than a gaggle of directors can shake a stick at often surrounding his name, Tarantino’s output never ceases to entertain or amaze.  We never quite know what he’ll bring to the table next, but we know what he’s left at the table, and now is the time to put them in a personal favorite order.

While possibly controversial in its inclusion, Four Rooms will be on this list due to Tarantino’s distinct style being present in his equally timed segment of the film.  Conversely, Sin City will not be included, as he only co-directed a scene and not an entire section of the film.  True Romance and Natural Born Killers have also been excluded, as Tarantino did not direct those films, despite his involvement in them.

10.   Four Rooms (1995) While not a full feature directed by Tarantino, his portion was the perfect way to wrap up the entire film.  His portion amped up the film’s energy, the stakes were instantly recognizable and identifiable to a viewer, putting this feeling in the pit of your stomach that rides with you until the inevitable conclusion, and it was a continuation of the wonderful working chemistry between Tarantino and Tim Roth.  It anchors this list simply because it is not a full-length feature, but it is a notable breathing point in a remarkable career.

9.   Inglorious Basterds (2009) In terms of premise alone, this movie should have done it for me.  Christoph Waltz gave a performance for the ages.  Even my friend Tina Rodriguez is in the opening frames of this film.  To put it plain and simple, the final 20 or so minutes of this film lost any and all momentum it had built, in my eyes, and became a piece of shock exploitation when it could have continued being a genre-redefining twist on a story we are all too familiar with.  Basterds was definitely a shot at something unique, but Tarantino would go on to do it better in the next film on this list.

8.   Django Unchained (2012) This could have been much higher on the list, as it does (in my opinion) what Inglorious Basterds could not in terms of taking a genre or topic we believe is well defined and putting a fresh spin on it.  Making a continuation of the Django western series with a former slave in the starring role is a bold choice, but Tarantino came within a breath of hitting the bullseye.  The only, and I mean ONLY thing that kicks this film so far down the list is the HORRIBLE choice to include the rap music cues more than two-thirds into the film’s run.  It totally took me out of the world that the film had built, and turned it into a Robert Rodriguez level ending for what was nearly a modern day masterpiece.

7.   Grindhouse - Death Proof (2007) This film oozes so much style and bravado that it’s almost disgusting.  The cars chosen for this film would fit wonderfully in my collection when I become a rich man.  The collisions captured for the film are some of the most jaw dropping and gut wrenching ever committed to celluloid.  Kurt Russell is a pure joy to watch in this film, and every woman cast in this film has something unique about them that demands your attention and tugs at your heartstrings (if not base desires).  The heavy exploitation elements, including the raucous ending, are pitch perfect.  Even the touch of the entire missing reel in the theatrical version, present in the home released full cut, divides viewers, as many are missing a huge exposition chunk not present in theaters.  Probably would not have worked as well outside of the Grindhouse context, but nevertheless a pleasant surprise of a film that emerged from that collaborative project.     

6.   Jackie Brown (1997) For a passion project, this film really finds its groove and sticks the landing.  One of a handful of Elmore Leonard novels that found its way to the big screen in the mid to late 1990′s, Jackie Brown might be the one that speaks best to an older time and sentiment being forced to find value in a changing age.  Robert Forrestor and Pam Grier’s chemistry is undeniable, Bridget Fonda brings a whimsy to the screen not present in full sincerity since the 1970′s, and seeing Samuel L. Jackson paired with Robert De Niro is cinematic gold.  The soundtrack is amazing, the story is easy to relate to, and the style used for the film was probably the last Scorcese-esque approach Tarantino used before committing fully to the flare and outlandishness of his exploitation desires.  An underappreciated gem, in all honesty.

5.   Kill Bill: Volume 1 (2003)

4.   Kill Bill: Volume 2 (2004) Oh, what could have been... here was an idea, when pitched, that would cover three to four hours of runtime, emotional and action-based peaks and valleys unparalleled in modern day film, and revitalize the possibility of a director’s vision and execution being identical if not extremely similar.  Instead, what we were given were two halves of one film promoted and released as separate films, thoroughly confusing the majority of the viewing public and showing that, despite all that Quentin had done prior, he was still left to answer to the powers that be at Miramax.  Had this film been released in its original intended presentation, it would very like be the top film on this list.  I will hold out indefinitely for the hopes that it is re-cut as one film for the Criterion Collection one day.

3.   The Hateful Eight (2015) Another film that seems deeply personal upon repeat viewing.  This one was very specific on the technical side when it came to shooting with the Ultra Panavision 70 (for a true 70mm aspect ratio), but the result is an amazingly claustrophobic experience, as most of this wideness was used to capture strangers locked in together during a fierce snowstorm.  Casting Kurt Russell in a low-key remake of The Thing is a stroke of genius.  Casting Jennifer Jason Leigh in a scene-stealing lead actress role was another.  This film is perfectly tense when it needs to be, extremely violent (usually out of the blue), and hilarious all in equal measure.  A true example of what the film experience can (and should) be, and one that must be seen on a big screen if afforded the opportunity.

2.   Reservoir Dogs (1992) It may seem obvious, but one way to get an established and fruitful career is with a monumental and mind-blowing debut.  In the case of Quentin Tarintino, we got an exercise in minimalism, a showcase for a handful of actors that were not getting the respect they deserved at the time, and a (deceptively) straightforward genre film that you can hang your notions and comparisons on.  What is quickly revealed, however, is a demonstration of how tough guys can be cordial when they need to be, and all business when the heat is on.  This tale of a robbery gone horribly wrong shows almost none of the robbery, focusing instead on mostly fallout, and still somehow manages to ratchet the tension up so high that you find yourself constantly on the edge of your seat.  Cool aesthetic is drenched all over this film, from casting to production to wardrobe.  The radio motif presented in both the film and the soundtrack further solidify the film and sear images into the memory, making them instantly recognizable and utterly unforgettable.  

1.   Pulp Fiction (1994) Tarantino’s magnum opus.  The film where he not only truly honed in on his first great run thanks to his style, aesthetic and motifs, but the film that spawned a generation of copycats, both directly and in terms of general filmmaking style.  The film made John Travolta a star to an entirely new generation, it helped put Bruce Willis back on the map, and it made household names out of Uma Thurman, Samuel L. Jackson and Ving Rhames.  If there were a single film that was ever symbolic of 1990′s cinema, one would be hard pressed find a film more suitable than this one to fulfill that role.  Tarantino was truly firing on all cylinders when he put this one together.  The film is so good that it made most everything he touched an instant classic for a long, long time afterwards.

If their were ever a director (or a list) made to generate debate, it would be this one.  I anticipate disagreements, and in time, I even anticipate this list to probably change.  But, as of this point in my life, and this point in Tarantino’s career, I feel strongly and confidently that this is a good representation of his work and how they stand up to one another.

[nancypullen]

The Artful Dead

Yep, I’m still making art with little dead people.  I love them.  I want to know their stories.  The best part of my day is spent right here.

I like to stare at their faces and posture and figure out what it is that they’re saying...

You can’t tell from the photo but she’s quite sparkly.

I felt that this somber gal needed a crown.

She’s still a work in progress.

So are these ladies. They might be my favorites.

These two are planning some mischief.

While this little girl is pure magic.

Still, the gals in the pointy hats speak to me.

Most of these are in varying stages of decor and drying, and honestly - I have no idea what I’m doing.  I need to figure that out and send these creations in a purposeful direction.  Am I making gift tags? Am I making small prints for framing? Items to add to shadow boxes? Or do I just want to stick fairies in flower pots and be happy?

It’s the creative process that brings me joy, so I guess for now I’ll just keep asking these little dead folks what they have to say.  

This little girl hasn’t spoken up yet...maybe “All you need is faith, trust, and a little pixie dust.”  

And this poor guy hasn’t been able to get a word in.

Because I’m having so much fun I’m finally ready to spend a little on new trims (can’t have the same lace on everyone, right?) and maybe new ink colors, though I’ve been mixing mine just fine.  I splurged on some patterned card stock and then, after much contemplation and research...I bought a little hand cranked die cut machine.  They’re not expensive, and it will enable me to cut my own tags out of any card stock.  I can also cut shapes like flowers, snowflakes, or the bats that I just know those witches need swirling around their heads.  My high tech husband doesn’t understand the thrill of this little manual machine. I’m just thrilled that there’s something in the house that doesn’t require charging or wi-fi.

Anywho, I needed a hobby, one that didn’t involve snacks, and I may have found it.  This activity ticks all of my boxes - it’s creative, it moves along quickly, and it makes me smile.  Between whatever this is and tending to my gardens, I am such a happy camper right now.  My world is full of color and whimsy once again. That gives me such peace.   I’ll be honest - I’ve been determined to put sweetness back into my life after becoming obsessed with ousting the grifter in the Oval Office.  As Maxine Waters has said, I’m reclaiming my time.   I hope that you’re doing something that makes your soul sing. Whether it’s dancing in your kitchen (highly recommended), reading wonderful books, traveling when you can, attending plays and musicals, or just sitting in the shade and soaking up bird songs and the fragrance of spring - you’ve got to nourish your soul.  The world will make you weary, but it can also revive you.  Take your lunch outside and get a little vitamin D.  Reading a book? Sit on the porch or deck and take breaks to watch the clouds drift past.  Next time you’re grocery shopping, go ahead and buy that little bunch of flowers for $5 and put them on your bedside table.  You deserve to wake up to cheerful blooms.  Take care of your spirit and it’ll get you through tough times.  Sure, we all have the daily grind to attend to - but if you make time for those little things that fulfill you and recharge you, the pleasures that remind you of who you are underneath the armor we all wear, the daily stuff isn’t such a grind. Now, go celebrate yourself today - you’re all kinds of wonderful. XOXO

[carriejonesbooks]

When I was a kid at Bates College, I spent a lot of my time feeling like less. My family had been kind of poor after my step-father died. My nana would stand in line to get us big orange blocks of commodity cheese for the week to supplement our $30 grocery budget Every  week my mom would yell at her that we didn’t need that. She always took it.

My mom didn’t answer the phone because she was so afraid of credit card companies calling.  She’d make me do it and lie that she wasn’t there.

I still hate answering the phone, even the cell phone, even when it has caller ID.

Anyway, when I went to college I wanted to forget all that. I wanted to be an intellectual like everyone else. I wanted to have gone to private school in Manhattan or Conneticut, have a summer home in the Hamptons and clothes that weren’t from K-Mart, which was sort of the WalMart equivalent back then, but worse.

I got over all that because I knew it was pretty shallow. What I had a harder time getting over was class issues that had less to do with materialism and more to do with hatred and intellectual history.

In one of my directing classes, one of the sexier straight guys actually announced about Beckett, “People who are not wealthy don’t care about this. A truck driver doesn’t watch public television or listen to NPR. They don’t care, they’re too busy humping and eating and drinking.”

My dad was a truck driver. He watched public television. He listened to NPR. I didn’t want to think about him humping. He ate food. He didn’t drink. His parents had been prohibitionists.

In one of my playwrighting classes the professor announced, “The working people of this country don’t give a shit about nuclear power. They don’t give a shit about a man of color.”

When I was in elementary school my dad would bring him with him to protest the same nuclear power plant that my step dad was helping to build. He helped me try to get New Hampshire to recognize Martin Luther King Day and do a hundred other civil rights things. He cared.

And one of my college friends would love to say, “Carrie is too poor to be pro intellectual.”

He’s a minister now. That still doesn’t make what he said right.

And one of my female poetry teachers told me over and over again, her voice trilling up with her patrician accent, “Carrie, you have the potential to be a poet, but your voice is too raw, not refined, not artistic enough.”

My voice was poor. My cadence was public school. I was not from rich. Every sentence I spoke showed that.

They still do.

Those are just four of the incidents that made me both angry and intimidated and focused, but in the back of my head it just inflamed my self doubt. I could never be a poet because I wasn’t wealthy, private-school educated, my parents weren’t intellectuals. I could never move people with words because my words were too stark and my sentences too short. I would never fit in because I didn’t have the background that most of the other students had.

And then two things happened. I read Sherman Alexie, a not-wealthy Spokane and Coeur d’Alene who despite his issues with women, impacted me positively. Maybe because I never met him.

And I met Seamus Heaney in real life.

Seamus Heaney came to our college at the invitation of Robert Farnsworth, who was an awesome poet and professor. He met with students, he gave a reading and we all got to hang out with him at a reception.

“I can’t go,” I told my boyfriend at the time.

He bit into his pizza. He was always eating pizza. “Why not?”

“Because it’s Seamus Heaney,” I answered staring at the little bits of sausage on the pizza before I plucked them off.

“So?”

“Seamus Heaney!”

“So?”

I didn’t know how to explain. Seamus Heaney was THE poet, the Nobel Prize winner. He was Irish for God’s sake. Those people were gifted with words. They had so many amazing poets… Heaney, Yeats, Wilde, Clarke, Moore. I was from New Hampshire. We had Robert Frost but pretty much every New England state tried to claim him.

Heaney wrote things like:

“A hunger-striker’s father

stands in the graveyard dumb.

The police widow in veils

faints at the funeral home.

History says, Don’t hope

on this side of the grave.

But then, once in a lifetime

the longed for tidal wave

of justice can rise up,

and hope and history rhyme.”

You will regret it if you don’t go,” my boyfriend said. “I’m going to just be playing Leisure Suit Larry anyway.”

So, I went, as anxious as if I was going on stage myself. Heaney transfixed me with his amazing baritone and bear-like presence. And his words… Of course his words… And when I met him afterwards, I was terrified until he grabbed my hand in his and said, “So you are a poet?”

And I said, “No.”

And all he did was nod and say, “Oh, yes you are.”

But in his eyes was this knowing, this connection, and maybe it wasn’t really there. Maybe I just saw it because I wanted him to understand me, because I wanted someone to get who I was and who I wanted to be. Or maybe not?

I don’t know, but one second later my professor said, “Oh, yes she is. I told you about her. She is like you.”

And then one of them said something about growing up not wealthy and I can’t remember the exact words, but what I do remember is that I finally felt understood. Later, I looked up Seamus Heaney’s past, about how his dad was a farmer and neither of his parents were big on words really, not in the intellectual way that everyone in college seemed to be. I found out that he was like me a little bit not because he was a poet and I was trying so desperately hard to write just one decent poem, but because we were both human, that we both came from humble places, that we both looked in people’s eyes when we said hello.

And that was enough for me. That was enough for me to believe in myself.

Seamus Heaney performed a miracle when I met him. He made me believe that I could be whatever the hell I wanted to be and that it didn’t matter how hard I had to fight or work or not fit in. What mattered was that I wanted the miracle of being a writer, of metamorphosis from Carrie the poor neurotic kid from Bedford, New Hampshire into Carrie Jones, the neurotic best-selling author who lives on the coast of Maine.

He gave hope and miracles in his poems and in his person and I am so thankful for his existence and so sorry for the world’s loss.

“The main thing is to write

for the joy of it. Cultivate a work-lust

that imagines its haven like your hands at night

dreaming the sun in the sunspot of a breast.

You are fasted now, light-headed, dangerous.

Take off from here. And don’t be so earnest.”

  I wrote this post back in 2013 when Seamus Heaney died, but in one of my student packet’s this week, I referenced Heaney and then yesterday I saw this Liam Neeson video (randomly) where he was talking about Heaney, so… there you go. I’ve reposted it.

Here’s Seamus Heaney reading his own poem, “Blackberry Picking.”

  Do Good Wednesday

Scary, right?

People are fixing it.

You can help with poetry and kids. These images are from Get Lit’s website and Get Lit is making a difference.

“Get Lit was founded in 2006 after Diane Luby Lane created a one-woman show about the power of words and toured colleges with iconic Chicano poet Jimmy Santiago Baca. After the show closed, she couldn’t bear the thought of cutting off the work completely. She started teaching classic and spoken word poetry in two high schools, Fairfax and Walt Whitman. When the semester ended… the students wouldn’t leave. They insisted on meeting after school. The rest is history. Today, the curriculum has expanded to almost 100 schools, and the Get Lit Players are the most watched poets on the internet. Curriculum requests flow in from Mexico to New Zealand.”

Get Lit “uses poetry to increase literacy, empower youth, and inspire communities.”

Get Lit works – 98% of Get Lit Players go to college, and 70% get scholarships!

Here are Get Lit’s specific needs and how you can get involved.

  Writing News

Carrie’s  super excited about the upcoming TIME STOPPERS book coming out this August.

This middle grade fantasy series happens in Acadia National Park in Bar Harbor, Maine and it’s all about friendship and magic and kids saving their magical town.

An imaginative blend of fantasy, whimsy, and suspense, with a charming cast of underdog characters . . . This new fantasy series will entice younger fans of Harry Potter and Percy Jackson.” –  School Library Journal

  “Sticks the landing . . . The world building is engaging . . . between the decidedly wonderful residents and the terrifying monsters who plague them.” –  BCCB

  “Amid the magic, spells, adventure, and weirdness of this fantasy are embedded not-so-subtle life lessons about kindness, friendship, and cooperation.” –  Booklist

  “A wild and fresh take on fantasy with an intriguing cast of characters. Dangerous and scary and fun all rolled into one. In the words of Eva the dwarf, I freaking loved it!” –  Lisa McMann, New York Times bestselling author of The Unwanteds series

  “Effervescent, funny, and genuine.” –  Kirkus Reviews

It’s quirky. It’s awesome. It’s full of heart. You should go by the first two books now. 🙂

  Time Stoppers

Time Stopper Series

Time Stoppers Front and Back Covers – US versions

CARRIE’S BOOKS

For a complete round-up of Carrie’s 16-or-so books, check out her website. And if you like us, or our podcast, or just want to support a writer, please buy one of those books, or leave a review on a site like Amazon. Those reviews help. It’s all some weird marketing algorhthym from hell, basically.

OUR PODCAST

Thanks to all of you who keep listening to our weirdness as we talk about random thoughts, writing advice and life tips.

We’re sorry we laugh so much… sort of. Please share it and subscribe if you can.

Please rate and like us if you are feeling kind, because it matters somehow.

Love

The Poet Who Saw Me – Wednesday Writing Wisdom When I was a kid at Bates College, I spent a lot of my time feeling like less.

[thomasreedtn]

Loose Ends, New Year: Mercury Retrograde in January 2017

Happy 2017! I hope you’re all enjoying the shift from a “9” year of completions into a “1” year of new beginnings. It’s a little more fluid than that due to Mercury Retrograde still in effect until January 8th, and then with its decreasing shadow period for awhile afterwards. As with any external energy influence, you can align your attitude and tasks with the energies in order to create more ease and flow in your own experience. Traditional advice says, “Don’t make contracts or start anything new in a Mercury Retrograde period,” but it all depends on how you embrace or resist those influences. In my own life, I’ve continued tying up loose ends since December 19th, including “tying the Celtic Knot on Yule,” which David and I consciously chose for both the return to light aspect and for the sense of completion at this level of our spiral journey together.

Permaculture Design Certification

Some readers might also recall that I began my Permaculture Design Certification way back in 2015, shortly before the opportunity to rent the house next door appeared. That creative expansion added many exciting and busy months to my completion of Permaculture Education’s excellent online course, including another yard to begin designing and sheet mulching, but I fully planned to finish my coursework and final project by February 2016. I did finish all the coursework, but a commissioned portal painting, house guests, and the sudden and unexpected eight week whirlwind in Pennsylvania caring for my father in his last weeks and then moving my mom into her new life in a new home and getting their old house ready for sale meant another huge delay.

Those two months in Pennsylvania borrowed energy from the next five months, which also coincided with garden season and some much needed getaways with David. We had a lovely summer and fall! I wouldn’t change a thing, but I primarily needed to rest, recharge and renew. Tackling a major left and right brain final project while also gardening, processing bumper crops, and doing intense phone sessions just seemed like it would push me over the edge. I might have been able to complete the project then, but not to my own standards, and it would have felt like a burden rather than an accomplishment. As my June 2016 deadline neared, I requested more time.

Dr. Alan Enzo at http://permacultureeducation.com was kind enough to extend the usual year’s time for course completion due to the exceptional circumstances of my 2016, and I’m so glad I waited until I could again enjoy preparing the final project, as it was a lot of work. I used our yard and both houses as the permaculture project, and I took the opportunity to “stack functions” by beginning to learn the software program Scrivener while writing the text portion of my project. (I’ll do a separate post on Scrivener once I have a better handle on the software, but I found it invaluable for creating and organizing a complex and many-layered recap of all the moving parts and functions of our growing permaculture haven.) I promised myself I would complete this PDC final project in 2016, and I managed to submit both final text and design drawing on New Year’s Eve day:

The actual file is quite large and involved, with over twenty pages of text exploring and explaining the coded drawing, but this 11 x 14″ sketch gives you some idea of the project’s scope. I won’t receive my grade and actual certification for about two more weeks, as a group of people analyze the drawing and text, but along with helping my father peacefully pass into the next world and leveraging my mother into her thriving new life, I consider finishing this PDC course one of my biggest accomplishments of 2016. Right under the wire!

Kalamazoo New Year’s Eve Festival

Later that afternoon, David and I drove up to Kalamazoo, Michigan to for another mini-honeymoon at the downtown Radisson. We love Kalamazoo with its hugely creative populace, ample vegan and vegetarian food options, and the sense of community; however, we had no idea how amazing we’d find their 30th annual New Year’s Eve Festival. The Radisson included buttons to access all the downtown events: concerts across all sorts of venues, food, fun for kids of all ages, fireworks and a ball drop at midnight. Unsure of the weather, we had bought backup tickets to some concerts at Bell’s Eccentric Cafe (a concert venue for the famous Bell’s Brewery), but we were so blown away by the talent and whimsy of the downtown concerts that we only spent about a half hour at Bell’s.

We explored the historic Ladies Library Association, where all the volunteers dressed in Victorian garb amidst stained glass windows and old books. David snapped this shot of me reading a Maurice Sendak book I found on the shelf while awaiting Kalamazoo’s Mandolin and Guitar Orchestra. He’s been playing with filters, so my hair looks much redder than usual — even more than it does in bright sunshine — and my black onyx necklace looks white; however, this photo gives you a sense of the magical storybook feel of the place. My faery combat boots worked well with the Victorian theme!

We learned during the concert that the Kalamazoo Ladies Library Association is the oldest building in the United States continually owned and operated by women — a landmark since 1871. Also, the original Mandolin and Guitar Orchestra had played on that very same stage a hundred years ago, and the library maintains a photo of that event, which made Saturday night’s concert extra special and time warp-y.

Next, we made our way to the Baptist Church, which we had noticed over Thanksgiving weekend on a Kalamazoo trip with my mom. From the outside, the all white and blue building looks more like it belongs in Greece, so David and I were keen to get a look inside. What better opportunity than hearing traditional Irish music on New Year’s Eve? Below, you can see some of the Gothic sanctuary and organ, along with the band, “Whiskey Before Breakfast.” The music was fun, but we both agreed that the best part of the show was a three-year-old audience member jigging and rockin’ out on the balcony. That little guy loved the music even more than I did, and his pure exuberance delighted many:

Another unexpected highlight for us came right after the Irish music that also featured some lovely poetry by (Scottish) Robert Burns. We decided to stay for the next act, a NYC band called “The Founders,” which featured a Kalamazoo native on trumpet and piano, along with a violinist and bassist. They described themselves as eclectic and classically trained, so we had no idea what to expect. Oh. My. Goodness. Were we in for a treat!

We sat spellbound as this talented trio played Bach’s Agnes Dei “as though Bach grew up in New Orleans.” In other songs, the songwriter violinist sang while playing violin, and he also recited Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Bells” poem very fast, very dramatically to original background music — a Kalamazoo nod and wink to that famous Bell’s we would head to next. They created their own unique fusion covers of the Beatles, Radiohead and more. David and left the concert in silence, literally stunned by such unusual and delightful talent that brought old to new and back again.

We did head to Bell’s for awhile but towards midnight decided to make our way back to Bronson Park to check out the ball drop and fireworks. I have not been to a ball drop on New Year’s Eve since I went to NYC in 1994, so that was another cycle bringing old into new. Normally, fireworks bother me, but between earplugs, a cozy hat with ear flaps and pure joy, I did fine this time. They put on quite a show: we kept saying, “OK, this must be the finale.” But wait … there’s more! In total, the fireworks lasted a little over fifteen minutes, and they were truly spectacular. It was so great to watch such a diverse group of people of all ages having fun and celebrating together.

All those walks through the cold worked up an appetite, since we had finished our veggie sushi dinner over six hours ago. Where, oh where, would we find food we could eat at this hour?! Well, it turned out we found food about 10 feet away at the Gorilla Gourmet food truck, which offered curried carrot soup after midnight. Seriously? Back in my pre-brain-injury sales job days, I used to plan business trips around a chef friend’s curried carrot soup offering on Tuesdays. I’ve not had one that good since. Until this one. Holy yum! David also got a veggie quesadilla (not vegan, but with homemade slaw and total yum), so we settled into 2017 with big smiles, new takes on blasts from the past, and very happy bellies.

New Year’s Day on the Kal-Haven Trail

The next morning, we slept in, checked out, and headed over to The Crow’s Nest, one of our favorite vegan friendly restaurants in Kalamazoo, which just happened to be open on New Year’s Day. (OK, I did a literal happy dance when I found out they were open.) It turned out I was not the only happy dancing would-be eater. The line stretched all the way down the stairs, out the door, and halfway down the block. And that was just to turn in your name to get on the list. After awhile, we noticed people in line drinking coffee and eating bagels and pastries while they waited. As we traced the trail, we discovered a nearby bagel shop, where we got tea and bagels instead. Yum! Plus, we finished within fifteen minutes instead of the estimated hour and a half to two hours for The Crow’s Nest.

We had chosen Kalamazoo for New Year’s as part of our intending for 2017, and we wanted more nature than waiting. After bagels, we drove to the Kal-Haven Trail, covered in deep snow at this time of year, but an actual connection bike route between Kalamazoon and South Haven, right on Lake Michigan. We enjoyed the fresh air, crisp whiteness, as well as all the friendly dog walkers and doggies. David snapped some photos along the way:

Still Revising and Reclaiming in the Tail End of Mercury Retrograde

Yesterday brought several more very long cycles to completion, with the arrival of author Mike Clelland‘s completed draft of the chapter on me to be included in his follow-up book to “The Messengers,” which I reviewed here. This marked the end of a year and a half of story sharing, questions, answers, writing and revisions, and it involves owl synchronicities that go back to 2010, 2006, 2002, and 1998. More than that, Mike’s chapter explores events I have never publicly shared — events dating back to 1987, which completed in this past 29-year Saturn Return Cycle of the 2016 time I spent in Pennsylvania. Tremendous healing occurred through emailing and telling the stories to Mike, as well as in his reworking them into something suitable for a single chapter in a book that explores many other owl synchronicities, UFO’s and paranomal experiences.

Mike Clelland is a rare bird. Probably an owl, LOL, but seriously, if he’s put anywhere near the time, attention and compassionate truth seeking efforts into the other dozen chapters of this new book, it promises to be a quiet and potent tribute to the Mystery with a capital M, as well as a huge catharsis for many healers and experiencers. The back and forth correspondence included so many synchronicities that Mike needed to stop collecting new information and only work with a sliver of the old, but highlights occurred when each draft section arrived as I was either sitting with or on the phone with someone else involved in that part of the story.

Many behind the scenes conversations discussed details of my 2010 divorce, during which owl synchronicities ramped up very high … so I processed the surreal nature of my previous marriage and that magical and Divine intervention divorce time in a deeper, final closure kind of way, just as I was synchronously planning my Winter Solstice marriage to David. Some very cool sync winks that did not make it into the final draft included my friend Karen walking in nature as David and I were getting married and finishing right at my birthday time stamp, and Karen suddenly feeling a powerful sense of love and blessing flow from her and her animal friends to us. Then, she heard a great horned owl hoot at 5:55, which according to Doreen Virtue’s Angel Numbers 101, means “Huge changes are rumbling throughout your entire life!” Hundreds of miles away, David and I also noted the clock at 5:55, as we drove to dinner, expressing our sense of huge change and blessings.

Karen’s text about the owl came through the next morning, right after I sent her the marriage photo of us with my birthday time stamp. Later that afternoon, I got excited texts from my mom about finding beautiful, unusual feathers on her driveway on her way out for a walk. My mom felt certain these were owl feathers and took them as a huge sign of blessing on our marriage. Mike asked for a photo of the feathers so he could definitively identify those, but by the time my mom got back home, the feathers had blown away. She started to doubt herself, but we have both had so many owl synchronicities related to my birthday or to big changes in my life that we figured they “probably” were owl feathers.

The next morning I received a very excited text from my mom that she had been awakened by “unmistakable” and “oh, so comforting” owl hoots that morning. I researched the exact calls she described and found the cry followed by three hoots to be the sounds exchanged between mated male and female great horned owls. This mysterious synchronicity provided such a beautiful and happy ending to a long and winding 29-year journey. As we move through this final week of Mercury Retrograde and into the freshness of a universal “1” year, I feel so grateful, blessed and awed by all that has transpired. I feel my own Neverending Story pulsing through life, and I look forward to the next sequence, tale and characters.

Wishing all of you a magical and mysterious 2017!

      from Thomas Reed https://laurabruno.wordpress.com/2017/01/04/loose-ends-new-year-mercury-retrograde-in-january-2017/