#but another idea was that I’d highlight Puzzles in orange

[hplonesomeart]

Ah nothing stings quite like a doomed friendship. Especially when you’ve got no one to blame except yourself for all those careless, selfish actions that pushed them away. Going as far to hurt them for your own gain. You’ve become the catalyst of your own loneliness. A path you forged willingly. A path you thought would bring you recognition…but it’s only lead to you being forgotten. Irreversibly.

[flatfootmonster]

Puzzle Pieces

Cold bites but not enough to dislodge me from my spot or my bookmarked thoughts. Orange tongues lick at the darkness eagerly, but as much as my palm hovers over them, enjoying heat spewed into the dark by the fire, the sensation sends no comfort to my feet. The dwindling success found in wiggling my toes every now and again is a good measure of how much more I can take. Winter nights hold less mercy than him—and perhaps a pinch more warmth. 

When I told myself I would run no more it was because there’s nowhere for me to go. Thoughts of escape didn’t cross my mind tonight where usually they would tempt; reality warping under illusions a safe haven could be blindly stumbled across if I only dared to look. I’d always retrace my own arguments, follow my own tracks, right back to my bed—an endless, exhaustive circle. But tonight there’s a task, it’s delayed as my pocketed hand remains hidden in cloth, cloaking the artefact I grip—equal parts spoiled reverence and fresh disgust. 

There’s no need for it anymore. I’m not sure when the spell was unmade; it was a slow unravelling process leading me to the understanding that no desire or intrigue hid within the mysterious forms—ink against paper. The only thing left after that discovery was a bitter disappointment. I think I’ve been disappointed for a long while now, at first, that was entirely self aimed. Not anymore. 

He was the one that scolded for ill words spoken against my betters. Yet if I don’t speak them, they are still true. Ill thoughts come from facts and if they only reside within my skull it doesn’t make them less truthful. Respect remains, as is proper, but I’m wary of memories. I’m ashamed of my feelings—once shunned and sacred, now infantile. I was infatuated, and he broke that with a cold smile and a harder shoulder. How had I ever imagined softness there?

This—this poem—was never for my benefit anyway, and was never given with good feeling. My fingers are cruelly tight around the parchment, they possess an unforgivingness that I cannot wield in my heart. Even if I don’t follow through it will be spoiled. And to think I once risked my life for a list of heartless platitudes. 

A cloud of mist materialises beneath my nose as a short snort of laughter burst from my lungs. I’m changing, and I don’t know what I look like or feel like anymore—if I even knew those things in the first place. All I know is I’ve outgrown the box I was placed in and I’ve granted myself the freedom to look deeper at those around me. Even if what I see stays secret, I can understand more detail than a sketch now, I begin to see hues and shade and highlight—nuance. That goes both ways—for the bad and good. 

I pull the poem free from its hiding place. It’s necessary to keep moving because that thought process—of looking beyond the two-dimensional outline of a being—always leads me to ground I’m not quite ready to tread. Emotions are dissolving in one part of me as they bloom elsewhere—wild and raw. As much as I’m growing out of selective naivety, these new developments seem just as treacherous. They are unknown and they feel dangerous. 

Frigid air expands within my chest before the hand strangling parchment joins the first. One end dangling down, teasing the fire, and the tongues grow longer, eager to devour. Spirits dance within the heat source knowing what needs to be done and what needs to be erased. Another huffed cloud appears when my fingers spring open, orange shivers and devours. There’s not a sound in the world past the crackle of excitement as spirits rejoice in appeasement of their meal. The thing was gone the moment it met the flames.

Ease settles in my chest. If they weren’t so numb, my lips might be persuaded to smile. The dancing flames hold me captive despite knowing that numb lips perhaps indicate that I should move now that it’s done. It’s just hard to summon the will to move because I know I’ll see more change once I do so. Deep within, my structure will have changed, restructured itself somehow and I’ll need to learn how to balance myself. But I’m not sure if my toes are actually moving now when I command them to. I should go back—to my own room, or… 

Weight cuts off that wondering notion; an extra layer envelops me as palms smooth over my shoulders. I don’t have time to flinch before he’s moved to the other side of the fire. Suddenly I’m being studied by dark eyes that flay and question on their own before I’ve taken one single breath. I can’t look away, my hands work on their own, drawing the heavy robe around me. His gaze drops to the fire for a heartbeat, gathering information from the spirits, before rejoining mine once more. 

“Do you plan on standing here until you turn to ice?”

The fact that he tackles my intentions to remain rather than question my motives means he’s watched; he’s aware of what I’ve done. But even if he hadn’t seen the action he has a way of reading me and knowing. It’s unnerving. 

“I was just about to come inside.” Under which part of the roof was never determined.

Head tilting to one side, his study takes in every inch of me as though he’s drawing up an itinerary. I get flustered when he does that, both in agitation and whatever the new thing is that’s evolving—it’s vines twist themself around my gut and chest, constricting and paralysing where they grow. 

I’m beginning to realise that this is not a passing fancy. I don’t think I’m a plaything to him either. Honestly, I’ve no idea what I am to him but I know he isn’t sure either—and that’s what makes this different. Constructing fantasies won’t help, so I try to stay grounded. but it’s confusing. Every now and again there’s a sensation like my heart wants to leap out of my mouth when he’s near. Should I feel shame over this, too? Emotions and desires before were held behind a safe shield—untouchable and unreal. All the knots I tie myself into now, because of him, he pulls and yanks and teases without trying.

“I fell asleep waiting for you.” The words are flat—emotionless even. It could just be a stated fact but there’s something more. The adjustment of his chin, as it firms momentarily, and then as his eyebrows draw together, add nuance. I don’t know him well enough to read these expressions, as minute as they are, but if I had to bet on it I’d name it disgruntlement. 

I was painting in his room. The thoughts that led me to this spot—and this purpose—had crept in the dark before ambushing my mind. My focus remained firmly on the parchment as they coiled around me, blinding me to everything but highlight, hues, and shade. I didn’t notice when he moved, from his reading spot to the pallet. No clues were picked up on that he was sleeping until I shifted around to work feeling back into my legs. The gentle sound of slumbering breaths caught my attention. It’s an odd sensation, and it always is, when I’m awake and he’s asleep. It’s about the only time when I can describe him as gentle, the unwavering features soften. He looks peaceful and that’s strange to see when his demeanour is usually focussed and sharp; he’s a library of rigid expectation and command in every waking breath. 

So, I watched for a while, feeling powerful in one hand and yet protective in the other. Who sees this side of him? There was never anything beyond the forced smile Inhun wore; no weaknesses shown and no upper hand offered. Yet Seungho lays down before me, allows me respite from his perception and gives me free rein. I can’t work out if it’s trust or complacency.

“I was going to come,” I repeat, clamping my teeth shut as they begin to chatter. 

Arms folded, his lips quirk into a smile which is neither warm nor cruel. This is another thing we’re both learning—something other than extremes. He doesn’t even have the decency to shiver, as he stands there in the snow wearing only his bedclothes, because when Seungho isn’t unconscious it is absolutely out of the question for him to show any weakness—no matter how human that weakness may be. I’m not sure if that side of him rankles me anymore, it’s more amusing now, although I don’t think I’ll ever have the confidence—or death wish—to laugh at him over it. 

“You said that already. Yet here you stand, turning blue. Must I carry you? Were you waiting for me to come and drag you inside?” he pauses, entertained by his own notions before adding, “or carry you like a bride?”

I don’t think my eyes could widen any further as I tussle with indignation. Drawing the robe tight around myself, I smooth out the irritation plucked at by his words before straightening to my full height. “I was doing no such thing, My Lord.” With all the courage I can muster, I make a jerky bow and turn away, willing my feet to do their job while they feel as useless as bricks. 

There’s a sound coming from where he still stands, near those dancing spirits, a snort that—if I didn’t know any better—could be laughter. Then he’s at my side. One arm extended, a hand hovers just behind my lower back. I can’t see the gesture but I feel it. I know the heat of it there, as vivid as the warmth from the fire, waiting in case I stumble. He has every right to scold me, in the very least, but he doesn’t—and I’m sure if I could look at him that strange smile would lay on his lips. For the life of me, I cannot figure him out. Every moment I’m blindfolded while assembling a one thousand piece puzzle, and each piece might kiss or bite depending on how I handle it. 

“The cold seems to inspire your impudence,” he murmurs. Still, there is no hard edge to be found to this particular piece. “Turning you back on me,” he tsks to himself as we enter the house. 

I slip off my shoes and he does the same. “I was following your advice, My Lord.” Perhaps I’ve lost my mind because the sniff added in punctuation is not humble in the slightest. My chin firms as my skin prickles because the mirth that radiates from him agitates me for a reason I cannot fathom. And why am I so perceptive when it comes to his moods? Why do his high spirits always make me mulish lately? The tangled threads of questions dampen my mood and cloud my vision before I catch myself. Hand to his door, I freeze realising, as I am sure he has, that I was about to enter his room without thought or planning. But It was where I’d just come from, well before I sought out the poem that is no longer. That’s why I was returning—it makes sense. But to him, it must look like…

“You’re quite the opposite of a bed warmer right now,” he says as he walks past me. 

And just like that my jaw finds its strength once more and I am staring him down, arms crossed over my chest. My purpose nor my intention was to be a bed warmer. I must have gone insane but I cannot help the way he easily plucks at my nerves tonight. Perhaps it was the surprise that came with his apparition outside whilst I was burning embarrassing souvenirs from a life left behind. The act says too much about me and where I stand that I’m not willing to admit out loud—least not to him. 

Does he know already?

Once more, he tilts his head to one side as he faces me—considering, amused. His mouth is soft, just like his eyes somehow became, before he offers a smile, it isn’t generous but it's genuine. It feels like an apology. He scans me, probably trying to understand why my feet have frozen on the threshold—no, he knows the why, he’s trying to figure out the undoing. “It’s warmer in here.” It’s given in place of an ask. That is something I’m learning about him: he does not know how to ask. And why would he need to ask a lowborn of anything? But what do I say?

Just as he has no ability to ask simple things, I have no practise in accepting. “I wasn’t finished,” I nod to where I was seated before, paper and brushes spread out around my work. His eyebrows rise by a fraction but he says nothing and gestures me into the room with one large palm.

I take the offer, silently shuffling to stand at my spot, looking down at my work. It was a lie, of course. I’d done everything I wanted on this particular piece, I knew when the last stroke was enough. Usually, I have no idea when a piece is finished, it can lead to ruin at times. Tonight it was intuitive, and as soon as the brush was laid down, I stood and made a quick path to where I’d hidden the poem. I realise, scouring the paper with fresh eyes, that there is something final about the forms beneath my nose, something that puts it apart from what has come before. 

“It’s different.” His voice at my shoulder is a shock. He’s crept up on me twice in the space of ten minutes. I try to shoot a scowl at him but he’s standing too near. If I tilt my head to meet his eyes, distraction from my ire will be inevitable. When did he learn to soften his gaze?

The scowl instead finds itself aimed at my feet as I fidget. Does he not like it? It seemed to come so naturally, without thinking, like a song from a morning bird. “Do you dislike it?” I ask, unaware that trepidation apparently lodged itself in my throat. It makes my words vibrate in tension. Do I need him to like it? That wasn’t a part of the agreement and if he doesn’t like it, that’s too bad. I shouldn’t care one single ounce for his appeasement. I shouldn't...

“I never said that,” he murmurs, moving closer. The fact that he’s unreasonably close and the inevitable urge to move into him sets off an itch beneath my skin. “It’s just different,” he pauses and I can hear my own heartbeat. Being cold seems a long-departed problem and it has nothing to do with the warmth filtering through the floorboards and thawing out my toes. My palms are damn, too. “Your face,” he continues, “the expression. Your eyes are closed, and your fingers hold to me, denting my flesh. There are marks down my back. My mouth is at your throat, brow creased. Your mouth is open, perhaps on a moan, and your toes are curled…”

With each clue he states, I begin to see it, too. My breaths deepen like his observations alone are foreplay. When did I become so fickle? “I hadn’t noticed,” the words are whispered; it is a lie, too. 

He hums, unconvinced but choosing his battles. “It's not a picture of an act, it’s a portrait of sensation. They aren’t on display for us, they are captivated with each other.” 

Wiping my palms off on the borrowed robe, my tongue is absent and my mouth dry. It isn’t fair for him to be so perceptive, to see so clearly into a piece I hadn’t quite understood yet. And that’s what he does, seems to figure me out before I do. All those times, watching me whilst inside of someone else, reading so clearly what I hid from myself with a thin veil of shame. Blindfold or not, I’m a puzzle he has no problem constructing. It makes me vulnerable and that scares me. 

“Perhaps.” It’s as much as I’m willing to concede, and it’s quietly done at that because another lie would be too much—even for me. Could he ever be captivated with me?

The trepidation in my throat hardens, it feels like I swallowed a rock. I should go back to my room. That notion lands in time with his arms as they coil around me. “Perhaps?” he asks knowing no answer will come because his breath is on my throat. In truth, he doesn’t need an answer. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes open, to stop my neck from weakening so my head can loll on his shoulder. What has he done to me? “Do you like it when I kiss your neck, Nakyum?” 

“It’s late.” The only thing left is diversion tactics. I can cope with his demands without consideration; I’ve relied on that to avoid my own agency and desires. But now he’s asking me. 

He’s saying my name. 

As if he can feel my body summoning the energy required to pull away, to leave this embrace, he holds tighter. He rests his head on my shoulder, then he sighs. “I would like it if you’d stay—someone needs to make sure you’re warm enough after standing outside for so long.”

I’m frozen again. Another ask, even if it is followed by reasoning or an excuse that I can’t quite bring myself to believe. He’s asking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen vulnerability in him, and that’s what this feels like. Out of the confusing tangle of newness within, something very clear sounds: I don’t want to hurt him. It’s an absurd notion, what could I do to him? But it’s there all the same, logic damned. The softness I saw in his eyes, on his lips, is reflected in my answer, in my unwinding muscles. “I’ll stay.” The response is almost illegible to my own ears, I can’t hear much for the blood pounding through me. 

When he dictates it’s so easy to lose myself, and then there’s no nervousness because I have no choice to be so. But now it feels like I have power to act on my own urges and that is terrifying. Can I ask of him? How can I do that when I can’t even admit that everything firm, that’s within and without, melts away when his lips are at my neck. 

Something eases in him, he’s relieved—pleased with my response. There are butterflies trapped in my stomach, my mind is tripping over expectations of what comes next. I answered in a way that gives permission, he should need that and nothing more. Instead, wings still their beating when his arms release me. He steps back and it takes every bit of stubbornness I can summon not to buckle without his fortifying strength. It’s worrying—much, much more than worrying—to find myself leaning on something. I don’t trust what I seek for support because I’ve been wrong before. 

Chills glide over my skin and I rub at my arms. It’s futile because this cold didn’t come from outside. “See,” he impresses, the statement balanced between victory and concern. “Come. Lay down.” 

And I do; it’s an instruction, my body follows the lead as trained. Confusing thoughts torment and preoccupy my mind enough that I don’t retaliate against that sheep-like quality I’m starting to abhor. There’s no firming of my chin or crossing of my arms, I’m simply waiting on what happens next. 

Disappointment wasn’t what I had in mind. Seungho simply lays down beside me, bundling covers over us and muttering something about my cold feet. Then I’m left to argue with urges and shame in silence and dark—the only presumptuous thing is the thick band his arm makes as it wraps tightly around my middle and his slow breaths on the back of my neck. 

Now what? 

His question still burns, my inability to answer is an irritant. Do I want to speak on it? It’s a question of what’s at stake, I suppose. What do I lose by gaining my tongue? No one is present to hear the confessions I could proffer to Seungho, I’ll simply be naked in a way he’s never witnessed before. Yet the way he sees things, the way he looks at me, I’m sure he can already imagine that secret part of me—perhaps not the fine detail but he anticipates the sketched outlines. He’s not wrong. 

There were constraints holding me before, doctrine I’d prescribed myself on the advice of someone who I trusted. But that’s gone now—smoke and ashes. There’s nothing to stop unlearning those strictures, I just have to find the strength to be bare once more. It was other people’s ears I worried about overhearing my secrets—not Seungho’s. Do I trust him? 

My shallow breaths echo around the silent landscape. Is he still awake? I can’t move, I can’t apply the brakes in my thought process. The words have reached my throat and there’s no way they can be forced back down. 

“I like it.” 

It sounds much too loud but the reality is my words were as minute as a raindrop landing on the ocean. Minute and yet still they cause ripples. 

He’s as still as I was, the broad chest pressed to my back unmoving now. The words were caught, they are percolating through the space between us. He edges closer, his lips ghost along my shoulder. “What is it that you like?” he asks, pleasure clear in his voice. My will is gathering itself; he knows exactly what I mean, the question is simply posed to draw out the details. Before ire is finessed enough to engage with my tongue, his breath rushes over my skin and he adds one more sound to the ones that came before—a one-word question seeking reassurance. “Nakyum?” 

Does he know what it does when my name is in his mouth? He must know. My brain wants to reinforce mulish behaviour but the rest of me becomes fluid, I’m all too aware of every single inch of his body pressing to mine. I’ve come this far… “I like it when you kiss my neck.” There’s a confidence there, as my lips move, that I wasn’t aware I could wield. 

A deceitful stillness descends once more. I want to see his face and learn the expression that comes when he’s hesitant like this—to know the emotions beneath the surface of this vast ocean. 

I want to know him. 

“Can I?” This rift in stillness causes its own ripples. No, it would be more accurate to call it a tidal wave because the influx of need to demand clarification is suffocating. It forces me to turn, to face him. He asked? 

The ask coaxes something playful. I find myself mimicking his game. “Can you do what?”

The same snort I heard outside repeats. I thought I knew better but that was untrue. It is a laugh—or as close as it gets to laughter with Seungho. I made him laugh? The kaleidoscope of butterflies has returned, cascading flights swirling within. “Can I kiss you, Nakyum?” 

There’s no thought; no consideration; no hesitation; no shame. There’s only urgency.

“Yes.”

(You can read the first POV I wrote for Seungho here)

[sarakwasna]

A couple of years ago, I decided to keep a list of all the books I read in a year. After recording the twenty-somewhat books of that year, my competitive nature showed itself and I decided I would read more the following year. I set a goal to read at least 25 books in 2018. I ended up reading 38. In addition to those titles I completed, I also abandoned a few. When I was younger, I wouldn’t have dared to not finish something I’d started, but I’ve come to that place in life where I no longer feel I’ve got something to prove. Life’s too short and there are far too many books out there to waste time on the ones that don’t thrill me.

This year, unlike last with My 18 Resolutions for 2018, I haven’t been able to decide what my goals for the new year will be yet. Sure, I want to get more fit and eat healthier, but that’s nothing new. I’d like to replace screen-time with face-time or even just me-time, but as for the big goals, this year I am going to have to wait to see what life unfolds. Whatever my intentions end up being, I know reading will be a part of it, so for those of you who also enjoy curling up with a good book, here (in no particular order) are the top 10 books from my year of reading.

The Untethered Soul by Michael A. Singer (Non-fiction/Self-Help)

“You are capable of ceasing the absurdity of listening to the perpetual problems of your psyche. You can put an end to it. You can wake up in the morning, look forward to the day, and not worry about what will happen. Your daily life can be like a vacation. Work can be fun; family can be fun; you can just enjoy all of it.”

I’d first heard about this book when I listened to an episode of Oprah’s SuperSoul Conversations; I’d written about that experience in To Forgive, Divine, but at that time, I hadn’t read the book yet. Well, as the second book read last year, this one deserves a place on the list; it’s actually a great choice for starting a new year. This is the type of book you will want to read with a pen in hand. You’ll underline a phrase here and a quote there, and then eventually half of the page will be highlighted. You’ll write “WOW” in the margin or you’ll bracket off whole paragraphs that speak to you. There’s a reason it is a #1 New York Times Bestseller with more than one million copies sold.

The Serpent King by Jeff Zentner (YA Fiction)

“If you’re going to live, you might as well do painful, brave, and beautiful things.”

I’d had students who had read this book in the past and really enjoyed it, but I hadn’t read it myself until I planned to include it as a book club choice for my students last year. The story centers around three teens who are unlikely friends in a small, southern town, but it’s more than just a book about friendship. The protagonist’s father is a religious man who is in prison, but the story behind his imprisonment is disturbing, to say the least.

At one point, I had to put the book down, then pick it up and reread, then put it down again. “Did that just happen?” I asked my husband who wasn’t reading the book and therefore had no idea what I was talking about. “I can’t believe that just happened.” Later, when my students were reading it, they’d come into my classroom at lunch or in the morning to ask me, “Did that really happen?” While it is a YA book, it certainly doesn’t read like one.

Educated by Tara Westover (Memoir)

“I was an incurious student that semester. Curiosity is a luxury reserved for the financially secure; my mind was absorbed with more immediate concerns, such as the exact balance of my bank account, who I owed how much, and whether there was anything in my room I could sell for ten or twenty dollars.” 

 Every now and again, I read a memoir that depicts a life that is so incredibly different from my own and from anyone else’s with whom I am acquainted that I have to keep reminding myself that it isn’t a work of fiction. Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs was one, The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls was another, and Tara Westover’s Educated was a third. Westover beautifully tells the story of her childhood growing up in the mountains of Idaho with a father who did not believe in public education. She was seventeen when she first entered a traditional classroom yet ends up with a PhD from Cambridge University– although it came a a cost.

The quote above is a great example of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and a good reminder that not all students have the “luxury” of being engaged in school. This book has garnered a lot of praise and publicity this year, and it is definitely one that is worth the read.

The Book of the Unnamed Midwife by Meg Elison (Sci-Fi)

“It does no good to tell a beautiful woman how beautiful she is. If she already knows, it gives her power over the fool who tells her. If she does not, there is nothing that can be said to make her believe it.” 

Sci-Fi is not usually my genre of choice, but a girl who I went to high school with (who is now a librarian) posted about this book on social media and I thought, if a librarian is posting about a book, then it’s worth a shot. It was. This was one of those picked-it-up-and-read-it-in-a-day kind of books. It’s a post-apocalyptic world where any woman who attempts to bear a child dies, as does that child. The protagonist, the midwife, is a fiercely independent woman determined to help save humanity.

This is Book 1 in The Road to Nowhere series, but despite liking this one a lot, I haven’t checked out any of the others.

Girls Burn Brighter by Shobha Rao (Fiction)

“We girls. Afraid of the wrong things, at the wrong times. Afraid of a burned face, when outside, outside waiting for you are fires you cannot imagine. Men, holding matches up to your gasoline eyes. Flames, flames all around you, licking at your just-born breasts, your just-bled body. And infernos. Infernos as wide as the world. Waiting to impoverish you, make you ash, and even the wind, even the wind. Even the wind, my dear, she thought, watching you burn, willing it, passing over you, and through you. Scattering you, because you are a girl, and because you are ash.” 

If I had to pick ONE book that was my favorite read of the entire year, this would be it.

Girls Burn Brighter was not only beautifully written, but also told a story of friendship, love, and female empowerment unlike any other I’ve read. It was disturbing and heart-breaking, powerful and poignant. Every woman should add this book their list, then read it, then cry about it, then get together with friends and drink wine and talk about it together.

There There by Tommy Orange (Fiction)

“This is the thing: If you have the option to not think about or even consider history, whether you learned it right or not, or whether it even deserves consideration, that’s how you know you’re on board the ship that serves hors d’oeuvres and fluffs your pillows, while others are out at sea, swimming or drowning, or clinging to little inflatable rafts that they have to take turns keeping inflated, people short of breath, who’ve never even heard of the words hors d’oeuvres or fluff.” 

This book has harvested a lot of accolades this year. Told from the perspective of ten different characters whose stories come together in the end at the Big Oakland Powwow, Tommy Orange gives voice to the urban American Indian, a voice not heard nearly enough in modern literature. While I loved the Indian legends and lore peppered throughout this tale, it was quotes like the one above that made me stop and re-read entire passages and then just sit with it for a few minutes only to go back to the page and read it again.

An American Marriage by Tayari Jones (Literary Fiction)

“But home isn’t where you land; home is where you launch. You can’t pick your home any more than you can choose your family. In poker, you get five cards. Three of them you can swap out, but two are yours to keep: family and native land.” 

Years ago, I read Silver Sparrow by this same author and I friggin’ loved it, so when I realized this was also by her, I knew it would be a great read. It’s a story about love and marriage and race and family and everything in between. Reading the letters sent between Roy and Celeste felt deeply intimate and immediately drew me into this story that satisfied me all the way to the very end.

What School Could Be by Ted Dintersmith (Non-fiction/Education)

“We treasure the occasional story about a child who climbs out of poverty, graduates from a prestigious university, and goes on to success. Since it’s possible for a handful, we cling to the view that nothing is broken in America. But it is. Education has become the modern American caste system. We fuzz up the issue in a sea of statistics about test-score-gaps, suggesting that social inequity is a classroom issue. We bemoan the achievement gap but dwell on the wrong ‘achievement’ and the wrong ‘gap.’ Achievement should be based on challenging real-world problems, not standardized tests that amount to little more than timed performance on crossword puzzles and Sudoku. The gap we need to face is how much more we spend to educate our rich children than our poor. We can test until the cows come home, and we won’t begin to bring meaningful equity to our youth. As an educator in the Midwest noted, ‘If a cow is starving, we don’t weigh it. We feed it.’”

I already raved about this book on social media and wrote about it in Dear Fifth-Grade Teacher, but I had to include it in my top ten list too. I found the book to be inspirational and thought-provoking for anyone who is involved in education or policy-reform. The quote above is my favorite from the book. I considered getting it as a tattoo, but it’s a tad long.

The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah (Fiction/Drama)

“In the silence, Leni wondered if one person could ever really save another, or if it was the kind of thing you had to do for yourself.”

 I still think Firefly Lane is my favorite Kristin Hannah book, but it was the first of hers I’d ever read, and I have a habit of latching on to firsts (i.e. My Sister’s Keeper is still my favorite Jodi Picoult and Looking for Alaska is still my favorite John Green). For some reason, I refused to buy this book since it was still in hardcover, and I had to wait ages for it at the library, which may be why I didn’t love it as much as I should have.

My mom read it first, and once I finally got it she kept asking me what I thought. It really was a great read, but it was also over 400 pages, and I really hated the protagonist’s father, Ernt. Somewhere in the middle of the book, I got sick of his shit and kind of lost momentum as a result. Still, it deserves a place on the list. It may not have been worth waiting months for, but it’s worth the eighteen bucks to not be cheap and buy it.

The Light We Lost by Jill Santopolo (Fiction/Romance)

“What I wanted to tell you is that there are lots of ways to love people and I know that you’ll love someone else again. Even if it’s not the same, some of it might be better.” 

Last, but not least. One of my favorite people told me about this book and I had the title written on a notes page in my phone for a few months, but then, I saw a former student post about it on social media and it reminded me to check it out from the library. It was another can’t-put-it-down book that I texted every reader in my life when I was done to tell them about. This is a book you can lose a day in, and even though I’m not a huge fan of romance novels, this book won my heart (and gave me a bit of a book-hangover too.)

Well, that’s it… for now. I’ve got The One Thing by Gary Keller and Michelle Obama’s Becoming to start off 2019.

What are you reading this year?

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My Top 10 Reads of 2018 A couple of years ago, I decided to keep a list of all the books I read in a year.

[nathanielwharton]

My 2017 in Pop Culture

Same deal as usual. This is what meant most to me last year in pop culture.

Top Forty Things From 2017

40. The Mummy I liked it. It's definitely got the worked-over vibe that people most object to in these shared-universe experiments, and it goes a little bigger and more action-heavy than I'd probably prefer for a Universal Monster movie. But, I liked the way it fused a modern Tom Cruise narrative with a traditional monster story. I liked the genuine horror movie flourishes throughout. I liked the winks at monster fans in the Prodigium headquarters. I loved Sofia Boutella's Ahmanet. And I loved Russell Crowe's silly/creepy thug Mr. Hyde. This one also got bonus points for The Mummy: Dark Universe Stories, the iPhone game that came out a month after the film. The story plays out a sequel to the movie, but the real nerdy thrill of it was the way it incorporated a bunch of original Universal Monsters characters and ideas, including Lisa Glendon from Werewolf of London and Kharis and Boris Karloff's Ardeth Bay from the original Mummy movies! 39. Baby Driver This was just a delight, a combination of classic crime movie and classic musical with that Edgar Wright energy giving it that extra nitrous burst of excitement. 38. "Every Country Has a Monster" on Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Return I'm one of those fans who loved Mystery Science Theater 3000 when he stumbled across it on cable in the 90s but has a little trouble with the way it gave license to a certain sourness and superiority about older movies among some audiences. Still, I found myself looking forward to the revival with a little trepidation as to whether it would find the right tone (or recapture the lo-fi public access charm of the original). The first twenty minutes or so of the first episode back (focused on the Danish giant monster movie Reptilicus, so they were doing well by me right off the bat) were pretty promising, but this song about giant monsters of myth across the world was where I decided I was on board for this revival. 37. Happy Death Day What a fun time this was! It's got a really charming lead performance and a fun story hook, but it's really the energy and inventiveness that it applies to slasher movie/Groundhog Day story of self-improvement that put it over the top for me. 36. John Wick Chapter 2/Free Fire/Atomic Blonde Hard to pick from among the three of these in terms of which action movie I had the most fun with this year. They've all got something special to recommend them. 35. The Scariest Story Ever: A Mickey Mouse Halloween This doesn't quite scale the heights of last year's Duck the Halls Christmas special, but it was still a funny, thoroughly delightful seasonal treat that I'll probably make a point of watching next October too. 34. My Favorite Thing is Monsters Vol. 1 I checked it out because I'd read it was a comic about a 10-year-old girl who was obsessed with monsters (picturing herself as a little wolfman) who tries to solve the murder of her neighbor. What I got was a moving story about historical injustice and personal revelation told with dazzling illustration. Really, this knocked me out. 33. Gemini/Murder on the Orient Express I think Gemini is actually going to be a 2018 release, but these two mystery films really scratched an itch for me this year. I was a big fan of director Aaron Katz's Cold Weather, a wonderful little mumblecore mystery story, but I wasn't prepared for how much I dug his twisty neo-noir, Gemini. And Murder on the Orient Express was kind of a similarly satisfying experience on the other end of the spectrum: a lavish, big-budget adaptation with a cast stocked with movie stars and exciting up-and-comers. I loved it, and now I'm all about seeing Branagh continue to work on his little proposed Agatha Christie universe. #thirtyBranaghPoirotmovies 32. Okja It's a new Bong Joon-ho film! That means it's got a bunch of thrilling filmmaking, wild performances, tricky tonal shifts, and a beautifully clear-eyed honest empathy. 31. The Get Down Season One, Part Two I was sorry to see this one cancelled after the still thrilling but also melancholy second half came out this year. I really fell in love with these characters, and it was always an exciting experience. And this was just one of the many Netflix shows I really loved this year (including Mindhunter, BoJack Horseman, Lady Dynamite, GLOW, Orange is the New Black, and Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt). 30. The ending of Split I loved the rest of Split, and I was already onboard the M. Night Shyamalan comeback train from The Visit (after riding like five movies on the “oh no, he’s lost it so bad!” train). But those surprising final moments of Split, while holding the potential for another dive into disastrous hubris, made me straight up gasp out loud in confusion & delight.

29. The Samurai Jack Revival/Finale I enjoyed a lot of the original run of Samurai Jack, but I wasn’t exactly a devoted viewer & hadn’t particularly missed it in its absence. So I checked out the revival largely just to see what the great Genndy Tartakovsky would to with it after spending time on other projects. And wow! It turned out not only to be a truly gorgeous & riveting experience, but it also took the characters & elements of the original & gave them some interesting psychology & moral challenges. 28. Nathan for You’s "Finding Frances" I love Nathan For You, but this year’s season finale, “Finding Frances,” was probably the most interesting thing he’s done with the format. In some ways it’s basically Nathan For You: The Movie, finding a sprawling emotional journey, still filled with nutball comic cul de sacs, that also digs into the “Nathan” character & finds a new place to take him by the end. 27. Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events Season One I figured I’d check out the first season, despite the fact that it would mostly be covering the same material covered in the totally decent Jim Carrey movie, because I was interested to see Barry Sonnenfield finally get a shot at the material & because I wanted to see what they’d do with the later books. But from the first moments with Patrick Warburton’s Serling-esque take on Lemony Snicket (and that infectious theme song) I fell in love with the show. The cast is great, the adaptation work is clever and involving (including an ingenious side story with Will Arnett & Cobie Smulders that seems brilliantly designed to provide different-but-complementary experiences for fans and non-fans), and I stress again how much I loved Warburton. There’s also a wonderful flourish in the season finale that amped my love into adoration. 26. A Cure For Wellness If Gore Verbinski can keep getting people to give him huge budgets to make big, weird genre films about the rot at the center of capitalism and western civilization, I will keep seeing them and (presumably) loving them. 25. Opening sequence of Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets The rest of the movie is a colorful bit of fun, but the opening sequence where we see, via montage, the establishment and development of the titular city of a thousand planets, is as sublime and moving a movie moment as any I saw this year. Thrillingly optimistic and hopeful, Besson briefly hits on something more than his usual enjoyably daffy nonsense. 24. Final seasons of The Leftovers & Vice Principals Two HBO shows I loved aired their final seasons this year. Both of them had set themselves up with particularly tricky tasks in providing satisfying resolutions without either ruining the mystique of what had come before or pulling their punches in a way that impacted the whole. And they both nailed it. 23. A Ghost Story I wrote about this one for SportsAlcohol.com. I found it bewitching and it stayed with me. 22. Star Trek: Discovery It was a long wait, but this new Star Trek show pretty immediately justified my subscription to yet another streaming service all on its own. I love the characters, I’m engrossed in the storytelling, and I’m challenged by the moral and intellectual ideas it’s exploring. Good Star Trek. (This also may as well be where I mention that I also watched, and pretty much enjoyed, the whole first season of Seth Macfarlane’s generic brand Trek cover, The Orville. Pretty well scratches whatever old school Trek itch Discovery could have left me with.) 21. Wormwood I love most everything of his that I’ve seen, but this is basically in competition with Tabloid for my favorite Errol Morris project.

20. Gorogoa Feels almost silly that I found what basically amounts to a puzzle game for my phone so entrancing & even spiritual. But I LOVED this thing. My only complaint is that it wished it kept going and going. 19. DuckTales Wrote about this for SportsAlcohol.com. A testament to how delightful this show is can be found in the fact that I put it in this slot instead of the also hugely enjoyable Milo Murphy’s Law. 18. Marvel Cinematic Universe While this year I definitely cooled on the Marvel television offerings (I still watched and enjoyed the Netflix shows despite some underwhelmed feelings, and I'm still pretty high on Agents of SHIELD, but Inhumans was a total misfire), it was perhaps the best year yet for Marvel Studios's cinematic offerings. I totally loved Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Spider-Man: Homecoming, and Thor Ragnarok. They each offered something fairly distinct and emotionally engaging (even Ragnarok, despite it's hilariously cheeky tone) and they were all a complete blast. Best Guardians yet, best Spider-man yet, best Thor yet! 17. Lady Bird Between 2016’s Edge of Seventeen and this,  guess I’m gonna hope for a wonderful teen girl coming-of-age movie every other year. And thanks to Saoirse Ronan, Laurie Metcalf, and the idiosyncratic empathy of Greta Gerwig, this one was a true highlight of 2017. 16. Get Out The terrific horror-themed sketches on Key & Peele suggested a genuine feel for the genre, so it wasn’t a huge reach to expect Jordan Peele’s directorial debut horror movie to turn out well. But this one still felt like a revelation at the beginning of the year (not to mention a huge event when seen with an audience). 15. Your Name Another wonderful surprise, this one makes some clever and twisty shifts as what starts out as a charming body-switching comedy reveals an emotional core that really swept me away. 14. War for the Planet of the Apes I wrote about this one for SportsAlcohol.com. 13. Blade Runner 2049 I also wrote about this one for SportsAlcohol.com. 12. The Post I wrote about this for SportsAlcohol.com too! 11. Coco Look, I’m generally less excited about Pixar’s sequels than I am about its originals (and I generally really like or love their sequels! but still...), and Coco is a perfect example of why. It’s a great story with a bunch of lovable new characters, beautiful new worlds, and the fun of seeing something new. And as is often the case, it also packs a real emotional wallop. 10. S-Town Speaking of emotional wallops, this podcast miniseries was already shaping up to be an involving look at a fascinating character, but a bombshell dropped in an early episode spins the thing into something deeper and more powerful than anything else I listened to this year.

9. Colossal Wrote about this for SportsAlcohol.com. 8. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel While this show has many things that set it apart from the other Amy Sherman-Palladino shows I love (namely Gilmore Girls & Bunheads), it does share the qualities of being unstoppably effervescent and entertaining while offering hidden depths. We gulped the whole season down in two plane rides and can’t wait for the next batch. 7. Star Wars: The Last Jedi Wrote about the movie on SportsAlcohol.com. It was another good Star Wars year in general, with some excellent Star Wars Rebels episodes, the continuation of the fantastic Marvel comics, and some cool novels (generally I didn't read any bad Star Wars books this year, so that's good; personal highlights were Aftermath: Empire's End and Leia: Princess of Alderaan). But the real highlight was, of course, the movie. It was a joyful, powerful experience opening night (in a way that felt interestingly different from the experience of The Force Awakens), and it’s a movie that has lingered and deepened in my mind as I’ve thought about it. 6. The Shape of Water I run pretty hot and lukewarm on Guillermo del Toro (that is to say, I don’t particularly dislike any of his movies, but while I love some of them, others just don’t connect like I feel they should, despite how much the separate elements might appeal to me). But for every one that I just like okay, he connects with something like this, a gorgeous, perverse fairy tale retelling of the Creature From the Black Lagoon with tributes to Cold War paranoia, classic movie musicals, and a great Michael Shannon performance added to the mix. Just a lovely tribute to the way love can unite the disenfranchised and overlooked. 5. Kong: Skull Island An eye-popping fever dream of a monster mash, this movie assembled a stacked cast of actors I love and surrounded them with some of the most stunning monster movie images I’ve ever seen. A++++infinity 4. Stranger Things 2 What a wonderful surprise the first season of this show was, and what a relief and a joy to get this sequel that is, in most ways, even better. By the final scenes of the finale, I was more in love than ever. 3. The Florida Project I wrote a bit about this for SportsAlcohol.com, so I think it’s enough to say here that this is a very special movie. 2. American Vandal What a wonderful little surprise this was! Like Stranger Things last year, this was something that popped up on Netflix & gave me something I didn’t know I wanted. On one level, it’s just a silly, dirty joke really elaborately told. But on another level, it’s a sneakily moving portrait of the way that expectations and choices made when you’re young can really impact what you become in that transition from teenager to adult.

1. Twin Peaks: The Return I was looking forward to this, and I had a pretty open mind as far as what it could be or what to expect from it. But I still had no idea how amazing and immersive and gripping it would all be. I wrote about it over at SportsAlcohol.com and talked about it on the podcast and I STILL only scratched the surface of how I felt about it.

Top Twenty Things I'm Excited About in 2018

Arrested Development Returns! I adored both the original run of the show and the fourth season that hit Netflix five years ago. I cannot wait for this. The Ballad of Buster Scruggs It's the new Coen brothers project. And it's supposed to be something like six hours of new Coen brothers project. Holy smokes. The Last Best Story I really loved Maggie's last book, and the tidbits I've heard about this one make it sound terrific. Been anticipating this one for nearly three years and it's almost here! Isle of Dogs Wes Anderson movies pretty much automatically quality as "most anticipated" for me, and the trailer for this one looks thoroughly delightful. And it hopefully augurs an exciting year for stop motion animation. While I'm obviously into The Incredibles II and Ralph Wrecks the Internet, I'm even more intrigued with the untitled Laika film scheduled for this year. There's been so little news about it, it seems possible it won't actually hit this year, but even if it doesn't there's Early Man, a new Aardman film directed by Nick Park due out in February, and Jan Svankmajer's final film, Insects, that I hope makes its way to the US this year. Ready Player One I'm sure I'd see this one no matter what, but the fact that Steven Spielberg directed it means I'm actively excited to catch it on day one. Marvel Cinematic Universe After a stellar 2017 (and all the goodwill they built up over the last ten years in general) I'd be excited for their three pictures this year. So the fact that they've got Black Panther (a terrific cast in Ryan Coogler's follow-up to Creed!), Avengers: Infinity War (the beginning of this big two-year culmination event, written & directed by the folks who made my beloved Captain America movies), and Ant-Man and the Wasp (I had a great time with the first one, and Down With Love guarantees Peyton Reed my attention forever), gives me confidence that they'll have another great year in 2018. Star Wars I'm forever excited about Star Wars (or at least the current firehose volume of it still hasn't made me bored of it yet) so I'm pretty interested to see Solo: A Star Wars Story, and I'm also really on the hook to see the final batch of episodes of Star Wars Rebels. Roseanne Revival Maybe I'm just tempting fate because of how the Twin Peaks revival turned out, but I'm excited for this one. I love the original show (one of my favorite little things about getting cable has been that Roseanne is on one channel or another almost all the time) and I'm equally apprehensive about and intrigued by the news that's come out about the revival so far. But I'll definitely be watching the whole thing. Lethal White AND Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald A new Cormoran Strike book and a new Wizarding World movie with a screenplay by J.K. Rowling! I understand why neither of them are exactly the kind of cultural event that the Potter books and movies were, but I'm personally so excited for both. A Wrinkle in Time AND Mary Poppins Returns Two big Disney productions that are super up my alley, so I'm grouping them together. Wrinkle promises an adaptation of a wonderful book from an exciting director and a fantastic cast. And Poppins has the liability of a director I've been extremely mixed on in the past, but it also has a perfect cast and the original Mary Poppins is a movie a really love deeply. Really excited to have these bookending the year. A New Cloverfield The God Particle was on this list last year, and it's on there again this year. We're only a couple of weeks into the year and it's already been delayed again, so this is in hopes that it does really come out this April. But in any case, with God Particle and Overlord, another mysterious genre film from Bad Robot that fans have been speculating could be another Cloverfield movie, both scheduled for release this year, seems pretty likely we'll at least get one new Cloverfield picture. (UPDATE SINCE I WROTE THIS: the game is afoot again!) Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters It's got a killer premise and it's just hit Netflix! I'm excited for this one, and it seems possible that the second film in the announced trilogy could also hit Netflix before the end of the year. New Darin Morgan X-Files episode The new season of the X-Files revival already seems off to a stronger start than the last one, but no matter what it does hold the promise of another new episode by writer Darin Morgan. This is an event. Disenchantment Look, I still watch (and usually enjoy) The Simpsons. I adore Futurama. I am super excited for a new Matt Groening animated series, and tickled by the notion that it'll explore a new genre. My Favorite Thing is Monsters Vol. 2 The first half of the story was such a beautiful, engrossing, moving surprise this year, that I can't wait for the follow-up. Sense8 Finale Movie I'm glad they're getting a chance to wrap things up the way they want to here, and I'm looking forward to one more visit with this nutty, beautiful show. My Next Guest Needs No Introduction with David Letterman AND Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee I don't keep up with all of Netflix's stand-up comedy offerings or the like, but I am super excited for these talk shows by a couple of my absolute favorite comedy curmudgeons. I actually watched (and really loved) the episode of Letterman's show with President Obama, and I'm looking forward to getting through all the rest of both of these throughout this year. Mute It looks like Duncan Jones's new film, some kind of spiritual follow-up to his great Moon, is finally going to show up on Netflix early this year! And they've also got the next films by Gareth Evans, Jeremy Saulnier, and David Mackenzie that could always drop sometime this year AND The Other Side of the Wind, a lost Orson Welles film! The Predator A new Shane Black movie is a cause for celebration, and while trying to revive the Predator seems like a dicey proposition, he's assembled an exciting cast and co-wrote the film with his Monster Squad collaborator Fred Dekker, so I'm looking forward to seeing what they've cooked up enough to put it here instead of the other genre sequels I'm intrigued by this year (like David Gordon Green's Halloween or J.A. Bayona's Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom). The Happytime Murders A Roger Rabbit riff with puppets would be enough to get my attention, but get Brian Henson to direct it in his first theatrical feature since his Muppet films from the 90s and I'm fully excited.

[montrealrampage]

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Stellar Lineup As Usual

I’ve only been living here for three and so years but year after year, POP Montreal’s lineups have always been satisfying without relying on star power. Of course, names like Royal Trux, Elza Soares, and Austra each have their pull, but POP doesn’t fit into the calendar of mega summer festivals and all the better for it. For some local and indie (in the truest sense of the word) bands, it may mean the chance for long-deserved recognition. For other, mostly newer bands, it’s a chance to test their mettle. What it always translates to is a full palette of choices for the listener and a guarantee of finding some new band to love.

POP For All

Reflected in the lineup’s diversity is POP’s idea of inclusiveness. They really try to offer a little bit of everything for everyone and it was nice to see people from different walks of life. All ages, all genders, many musical cliques, a healthy mix of origins. It was nice to look around venues and not once have the feeling of being out of place.

Hurray for Hurray For The Riff Raff

Early in the set Alynda Lee Segarra proclaimed that her music was resistance music. We don’t have much, but we do have music, went the argument. Hers was a high-octane resistance, full of yelps and shrieks and guitars making shattering sounds that were as melodic as they were calculated. Apparently, the last time she was in town she had to sleep in a park. Touched that POP invited her back, her performance pulled heartstrings and called for harmony. Lots of shows leave you feeling happy at seeing something good, but few leave you actually feeling positive. Segarra’s was one such rare concert and I hope she’s back soon.

KEXP at Breakglass Studios

This year, KEXP filmed a few sessions at Breakglass Studios including The Besnard Lakes, Moon King, and Wake Island. Interested people could reserve a free ticket by RSVP-ing and while initially this was capped at 35 entries, POP released at least 50 more. My partner managed to get tickets for The Barr Brothers, who played five songs off their upcoming October album, Queens of the Breakers. A compact studio with roving cameramen and lights in their eyes didn’t stop the band from playing a truly tight set and joking with the crowd. Judging from the tracks played, the band look to take on a heavier sound, simultaneously more bluesy and wandery.

Strong Merch Game

That music sales have been in freefall is no secret. Yet, vinyl sales are on the up and bands are still making music. The economic argument that streaming would kill music isn’t necessarily holding up yet. Is it because passion trumps finance, or because bands are finding other ways to stay afloat? At any rate, one of the latter ways includes merch sales. Vinyl purchases at shows make very nice mementoes, as it beats getting vinyl at the store. Then, there are the posters, stickers, pins, hats, cassettes, shirts. Undoubtedly however, Jay Som had the biggest and brightest selection of all, which I found really mirrored her cheery personality on stage.

What’s ‘Mile End’?

Often, I would hear a conversation in passing about the Plateau or the Mile End or La Vitrola or Le Divan orange. Locals and residents were explaining the layout of Montreal’s musical landscape to either new residents or tourists. What better way to get to know a city than by venue hopping?

Post-punk’s Not Dead

I knew of a post-punk resurgence in the States and the U.K. but up till now hadn’t heard anything of the sort from Canada. Enter Casper Skulls from the Toronto exurbs. Brooding and dark, Neil Bednis and Melanie St. Pierre’s spoken-voice style is counterbalanced wonderfully by sung choruses. Languid at times, the band evoked Silver Jews and even Built To Spill. So, not exactly Pere Ubu or PiL, but just as post-punk fractured punk, Casper Skulls’ toying with the formula gets a pass too. This young band has potential.

Juana Molina

Molina gave one of those shows that one is totally unprepared for. Her latest album, Halo, was an exercise in restrained calm and serenity, sketched with elongated vocals and punctuated by synthetic glitches. One expects a quiet persona, the type that doesn’t look up beyond her bangs. Live, apart from one quiet “more romantic” piece, it was controlled chaos – disjointed yet whole, like trying to fit a puzzle with pieces from different sets. Barely a minute into her set and people could not sit down in the seated venue. Her, Odin Schwartz (multi-instrumentalist) and Diego Lopez de Arcaute (drums) played cracking, thunderous music that left us breathless.

Ty Segall

Perhaps the venue for Juana Molina should have been switched for Ty Segall’s acoustic performance. What could have been an intimate, get-to-know-you-behind-the-mask (literally) soirée was marred by constant chatter and ambient noise. Of course, the man himself didn’t underperform at all. Deft guitar work, his hand just a butterfly blur as they fluttered over the strings. Plus, in his threadbare voice, a sense of humility prevailed despite his stardom in garage rock circles. Those closer to the stage joined in on songs like ‘Crazy’ and ‘Black Magick’. It was a night of missed opportunities.

Laura Babin

So you’re in Montreal and you hear that this city is a bilingual city. POP had Dead Obies rep the franglais crew in what I’m sure must have been a fun show. Laura Babin covered the other side of the spectrum with her show at Le Divan orange early Sunday afternoon. Low key folk rock in both English and French charmed and swayed the audience. Gentle guitar melodies grounded by thick bass notes surrounded Babin’s captivating vocals. Her song ‘Water Buffalo’ was a standout song and personal highlight, reflecting on the idea of being a foreigner – another very Montreal theme.

Divan Brunch

The above brings me to the idea of a ‘Brunch concert’. Indie Montreal has been hosting such concerts for a while. There are so many novelty factors here. Not only is the show in broad daylight, the audience is sitting and eating! Sunday’s show went further in offering a buffet style meal, therefore prompting concert goers to leave their seats for further gastronomical satisfaction. Does this formula work? The argument that the band gets less attention doesn’t really hold well given that crowds do whatever they please, brunch or not. Time will tell but colour me intrigued.

Sing Like You Mean It

So many bands, so many vocal styles. I’ve mentioned Casper Skulls harried spoken word but I heard an idyllic English countryside in Tess Roby’s performance at the Ukrainian Federation too. It was my first time seeing her (she’s performed at POP five times!) and I liked the precise mastery of the ascents and descents. On ‘Ballad 5’ (highlight), what sounds on the record like an electronic looped voice was actually her own breathless repetition. Meanwhile, Stef Chura left me hanging on to every word in the way she could enunciate without much lip movement. You’d expect a mumbler but words left her with utmost urgency, matching the sharp, charging guitar and drums. Then, on ‘Human Being’, playing solo, there was that fascinating lilt, rolling around, unpredictable and magnetic.

Girl Power

This year, I saw more bands with women in them than men. I didn’t choose to do so consciously; POP’s lineup and the convenience of venues led to that itinerary. Some didn’t, but most bands blew me away. I imagine seeing more and more woman acts on the bill (and in bands) must be very empowering for female audiences in the same way seeing someone of my own background is. I’m not sure any other festival can boast such equal footing between the sexes and I’m glad POP are leading the way.

MAUNO

I’d never seen a Haligonian act prior to POP and this year I saw an excellent one: MAUNO. Quirky in their personality, the music is sparse yet energetic rock. They already have one album in their discography but judging from the cuts they played from their upcoming one, Tuning, the band could go places. Crunchy bass, shimmering guitars, well-balanced vocals from Nick Everett and Eliza Niemi. The setlist featured masterful instrumental transitions for a bit of indulgent headbanging. Most importantly, a strong sense of self-assuredness and dry humour from the four-piece ensured a fun show to close out my Saturday.

Maggy France

At one point I believed I was tired of vocal harmonies. Then I heard Maggy France at L’Escogriffe on Friday and changed my mind again. Listed as a two-person band on their Bandcamp page, the band performed as a six-piece. Despite the number, the sound wasn’t stuffy or overbearing. In contrast, what we got was dreamy, shining guitar tones couples with calming, sighing harmonies. One of a few bands I thought had too short of a set.

Sweetest moment of POP’s sweet sixteen

Definitely goes to the little hug Tess Roby gave her unsuspecting younger brother Eliot at the end of their show. I’ve always wondered about the secret life of bands and what happens before and after shows. Why is it that members don’t seem to acknowledge the fact that they just worked together to play an awesome show? Is it jadedness from the road? Or are high fives reserved for the band room? I’ll never know.

Sixteen Things at POP Montreal’s Sweet Sixteen Stellar Lineup As Usual I've only been living here for three and so years but year after year, POP Montreal's lineups have always been satisfying without relying on star power.