#one flew over the cuckoo's nest imagine

[crepesuzette2023]

What do you think was the deal w George playing on HDYS? Like all those ppl in the room knew Paul, used to be friends with him, and still talked shit about him, and it's just so crazy to me that Ringo was the only one bothered by it all. I can't wrap my head around it.

Full disclosure to get it out of the way: I don't much like HDYS. Musically, I mean. I think it's boring and monotonous, and the lyrics are childish because of how obvious they are. I know many people like the song, or like it musically while disliking the lyrics—all fine with me. But I'm not coming at this as a fan of the song.

What do I think George's deal was playing on HDYS? It's speculation time!

I think George had legitimate grievances about being in the Beatles: the fame, the John & Paul of it, the resulting creative frustration. He was clear enough in later years that, despite loving Paul as a friend, he wouldn't play in a band with him anymore. You can dismiss that as George being a mediocre bitch who's incapable of playing with a genius like Paul, or as Paul being a domineering asshole who can't play well with others, but it comes down to creative incompatibility, and three songwriters being at least one too many.

I imagine that any wounds and anger George carried because of that were still relatively fresh at the time HDYS was recorded. And since Paul had positioned himself as the odd one out (culminating with the lawsuit), George ended up in John's camp—his dislike of Yoko being compensated for by the presence of Klaus, Ringo, etc.

With HDYS being a reaction to Paul's no less cruel (in its own way) "Too Many People", I imagine George felt some personal outrage and solidarity with John as well: Too many people preaching practices...

With so much miscommunication/non-communication between all of them at this point, it was easy to project, blame, and make bad faith assumptions...with no one in the room (except, eventually, Ringo) willing and able to prioritize John and Paul's (and all of their) friendship over being part of the 'winning' fraction.

In One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, the main character, McMurphy, observes a group therapy session that ends with everyone piling on and competing for the cruelest thing to say or do. He compares this behavior to a pecking party: a flock of chicken driven into a pecking frenzy after smelling blood, which leads to more cuts, and more blood. It's a dramatic example, of course, but I sense something like this in the composition of HDYS: the collective rush of being assholes together, further enhanced by John's charisma and the victim being absent. Who hasn't experienced this at some point—talking shit about the person no one liked in the moment, so happy to be part of 'in crowd'? *Raises hand* definitely guilty—teenage behavior, not proud of it. Ashamed, even.

I think that's a big part of what happened. It says a lot about Ringo that he eventually left. That's backbone.

By the way, I've no intention to make this about Paul vs. John. The situation was out of hand, and there was no one with the authority or will to make them talk and stop this (though eventually they apparently decided to stop the excessive mutual flogging in public). It remained the John & Paul business, to the end.

To wrap it up, I'm not a huge fan of "Too Many People," either, because the taunting lilt is so mean and cutting. I like the melody, though, and enjoy the version on Thrillington.

Now, the whole Dear Boy/ Dear Friend/ Best Friend/ Jealous Guy/ I Know (I Know) thing...please.

[irimarzz]

couple of lineless drawings :3

[saintsenara]

the wizarding world really just does not care about anything huh? i mean. what would have happened if tom had been institutionalized due to his magic?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i need to actually get around to writing the big meta i have on the idea - which i know a few people have asked me about - that hogwarts applies some level of selection [that is, that - despite what lupin says in deathly hallows - it doesn't teach the majority of magical children in britain, whether they're born to magical or muggle families] when it comes to who it admits, and that muggleborn potential pupils who fall short of its criteria never get the letter-delivery meeting that we see the canonical tom riddle receive.

which would mean that, had tom been committed to a psychiatric hospital as a child, i think the wizarding world would have quietly struck his name off the list for potential admittance to hogwarts and continued on untroubled.

which is obviously grim.

although i think it's worth saying that, while there is a lot about 1930s psychiatric care which was legitimately inhumane - and the sort of one flew over the cuckoo's nest-style dystopian vibe, which makes the idea of poor wee tom being stuck in a hospital seem so terrifying, isn't entirely inaccurate - there's also, as odd as it sounds, a chance that he might have been genuinely helped by the psychiatric treatment of the time period.

we picture the psychiatric treatment of the early twentieth century as straitjackets and padded cells and lobotomies - violent and dehumanising procedures with no clinical benefit - because [as is often the case today in the way mental illness is spoken about both clinically and culturally] the medical community tended to regard anything accompanied by psychosis [schizophrenia, schizoaffective disorder, bipolar disorder, and so on] as intensive, untreatable and unmanageable [and to - therefore - institutionalise patients with these symptoms permanently].

but at the same time, mental illness which wasn't accompanied by [long-term] psychosis [depression, anxiety disorders, addiction, ptsd and so on] was increasingly seen not only as treatable, but as curable - and clinicians' aims were for patients to be treated temporarily either in the community or in modern hospitals which looked very different from the padded-cell asylums which were holdovers of the victorian/edwardian era, and to live independently after their course of treatment was done.

this was largely due to the prevalence of "shell-shock" and "soldiers' neuroses" - which we would nowadays understand as types of post-traumatic stress disorder - among men who had served in the first world war. these men - often from "respectable" backgrounds, with no history of mental illness in their families - were a very different demographic of patient than either the destitute "lunatic" or the hysterical woman of the victorian and edwardian imagination. they were also needed back in the trenches - but with their symptoms under control enough that they weren't considered dangerous to their fellow soldiers.

and treatments for shell-shock were - as a result - considerably more humane than the contemporary treatment of psychosis. emphasis was put on holistic treatments - especially the chance for men who had been shivering in the trenches to get a period of real rest - and on talking.

[british army officers were ordered - for example - to attempt to reduce shell-shock cases by encouraging their men to process their experiences of the war in individual and group settings.]

after the end of the war, the treatment of long-term shell-shock combined with the growing interest in "analysis" - which, while the image i'm sure many of us have of it is of sigmund freud suggesting the patient wanted to fuck his own mother, actually looked rather a lot like the various branches of psychotherapy do today - into courses of treatment for conditions like depression, anxiety, and ptsd [especially those caused by childhood trauma] which aren't actually terrible...

the way the young tom riddle speaks about magic in canon absolutely sounds like psychosis to someone who doesn't know he's a wizard - and so, yes, there is a very high chance that he would have been institutionalised to be stuck in restraints for the rest of his life.

but it's also the case that, since he was a child when mrs cole was trying to have him "looked at" by doctors, this increasing disciplinary focus on the psychological motivations for behaviour - especially in childhood; child psychology and the causes of juvenile delinquency were things the psychiatric community was increasingly interested in during the 1930s - might, instead, have had his belief that he could do magic put down to a fantasy which he had invented on account of his numerous [and treatable] neuroses.

and while it's not the case that he's making up being a wizard... it very much is the case that he's neurosis-central. you've never seen a more unbalanced ego.

and that actually being prompted to confront his childhood trauma [especially his grief over his mother's death] - even when the strange, freudian flavour any psychotherapy would undoubtedly have had is taken into account - would probably have done rather more to actually help him than hogwarts' "ignoring children's emotional needs is fine" approach...

[nhl-stories]

Serotonin – Cale Makar

Summary: Cale is just helping out a friend of a friend in a tough place, he ends up in deeper than he ever imagined.

Author’s Note: Warnings for mentions of substance abuse, suicide attempts, and mental illness. If you're feeling suicidal, please reach out, you can find some resources here

Word Count: 3.8 k

Album Series Masterlist

I get intrusive thoughts Like burning my hair off Like hurting somebody I love

Cale didn’t know what to expect; he was picturing the hospital from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, which he watched in a college psychology class, and pulling into the parking lot mostly shoots down that theory.

He wipes his palms on his jeans before getting out of the car, grabbing the backpack he was sent to bring.

The building is old and imposing in the way most hospitals are, someone should probably change that, he thinks as he enters the lobby.

The inside is a little warmer and brighter, but he’s immediately met with front desk behind glass and a door he has to be buzzed through to enter, so any comforting vibes are quickly swept away.

“How can I help you,” the nurse has a syrupy sweet voice.

“I’m here to see Morgan Lee, I brought some stuff for them,” Cale holds up the backpack.

“Great, if you can fill out this form,” she opens a door in the window and slides out a clipboard, “and we’ll need to check the bag before you see the patient.”

Cale opens his mouth, not sure if he wants to protest calling Morgan ‘the patient’ or searching the bag.

“It’s just protocol sweetie, we do it for everyone.”

Cale hates being called sweetie.

The bag search takes forever, they go through every pocket, then keep the backpack and hand Cale a box full of its contents before leading him to Morgan’s room.

The facility seems nice, it’s not filled with zombies in matching gowns being handed medication; in fact, it kind of reminds him of a college dorm.

“Morgan, you have a visitor,” the nurse opens the door and calls in before waving Cale in, “you can stay until dinner time, and I’m gonna leave the door open.”

“Oooh open door, Cale you must seem like trouble,” Morgan smiles from the bed.

They’re wearing a hospital gown with a scratchy looking robe over top, those surgery socks with the textured bottoms on their feet. Cale can’t stop staring at the bright green cast on their right arm.

He doesn’t want to stare, make Morgan feel weird, but the situation is weird. He drops the box at the end of the bed.

“I think they’re keeping your backpack,” he lamely adds.

“I told you to put it all in a box,” they start digging through the contents, “you can’t hang yourself with a box.”

There’s a quick intake of air, he doesn’t realize it’s his own until Morgan looks at him with a sad look.

“Sorry, too soon for suicide jokes?”

Cale looks down at his feet, he can feel his cheeks turning pinker than normal. He wants to be a good visitor, not make Morgan walk on eggshells around his own comfort zone.

“I graduated from hospital fashion, so that’s a good sign,” they find a baggy DU sweatshirt and start to change, standing up from the bed and shimmying on a pair of sweats, they look happier and healthier already.

“How long are you gonna be in here?” It’s not the best first question, but anything is better than Cale standing in awkward silence.

“They think 15 more days, depending. I’m mostly through the worst of the withdrawals so it’s all about whether I’m a threat to myself and others.”

Morgan pulls the chair closer to the bed and gestures for Cale to take it before hopping back on the bed, “then it’s all outpatient service.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

“The thing about people with functioning drug and alcohol problems, is you don’t usually know they have a serious problem. It’s kind of the goal.”

Cale can’t believe this is the same person who called him crying a day ago.

“Besides we’re like really, really good acquaintances at best. If you were the first person to figure it out…” Morgan let’s out a heavy sigh, “I don’t know, it doesn’t matter now. I’m here and not being scraped off a sidewalk.”

“Still, sorry it had to get this far.”

Morgan shrugs, “so tell me what’s new with you, how’s the team? Reading any new books? Or any good Costco deals?”

Cale is happy to prattle on, he likes talking to Morgan. They always seemed engaged with whatever he’s saying, even if it’s mundane.

Their friendship is quite new, only really blossoming in the past year when they learned they lived in the same neighborhood. Cale wouldn’t say they were that close, but in the short time Morgan has always taken his book recommendations, happily sharing their thoughts afterwards, sharing their own reads back. They even seem genuinely interested in whatever he found at Costco.

Because he enjoys Morgan’s company so much, it makes him feel a little worse that he didn’t notice anything was wrong. Sitting in a psychiatric hospital for a visit makes him think there must have been red flags he missed.

Eventually the nurse pops her head back in, “Morgan, dinner is in 10, so you and your guest can wrap it up.”

“Thanks for hanging out,” Morgan gives Cale a playful kick in the thigh.

“No problem, I’ll gladly swing by any time I’m free,” he hopes it’s clear he means it.

“And can you do me a favor? Don’t mention this to Jade or Logan please?”

“Oh,” Cale tries to hide his shock, “you don’t think they’ll notice you’re AWOL?”

“One week in Jade will know what’s up, this has happened a few times...” the words feel like they carry the weight of the world, “But I don’t want them to freak out and worry. They’ll try and make me move in with them again.”

“Yeah, I can keep a secret,” his stomach sloshes uncomfortably, he’s not only terrible at deception, his body seems to have an allergic reaction to it.

|||

Cale first met Morgan through OC and his girlfriend, Jade. Jade had been friends with Morgan since high school and they all attended University of Denver together. Morgan had come to a few games and parties, but nothing really made a lasting impression.

Until they won the Stanley Cup.

Morgan seemed to be at every party, doing an incredible job of keeping up with the boys. In hindsight, maybe that’s a red flag in it of itself.

He doesn’t remember most of it, but he distinctly remembers Jade apologizing for Morgan’s behavior the morning after the parade. Cale can’t recall what exactly what they had done, he has a foggy memory of Morgan being a bit of a ragdoll at one point, but nothing too alarming.

Whatever it was, it was apparently bad enough for the grave expressions OC and Jade gave as they apologized. Probably another red flag.

But Morgan was back, maybe a little more subdued, for the festivities the next day. Cale was a bit too drunk to operate his phone and had asked them to help him order an Uber home, Morgan happily obliged and made a delighted noise when they realized Cale was practically their neighbor.

They shared the car and planted the seeds of their friendship.

Cale didn’t get a chance to visit Morgan in the hospital for five days, but OC did question him.

“Hey Cale, have you seen Mo around your hood recently? Jade hasn’t heard from them and she’s getting a little worried.”

“Uhhh–“ the uncomfortable sloshing returns, “Morgan hasn’t been around, but I talked to them the other day, they seem to be doing well.”

It’s not exactly a lie, more of a lie of omission.

“Oh. Good. I’ll pass that along to Jade. I told her she didn’t need to freak out, but they’ve been friends forever and been through some tough times, so she can’t help it sometimes.”

It feels like Logan knows that Cale knows something, or maybe he’s just talking out his own worries about Morgan. Either way, Cale feels a little sicker about not telling the whole truth; he just hopes it’s not showing on his face.

“I’ll let you know if I hear from Morgan again,” he can at least be mostly honest about that.

“Thank for looking out,” Logan claps him on the shoulder before he leaves.

Cale goes to visit Morgan afterwards; he brings his cribbage board because he thinks Morgan will like having an activity, so neither of them will feel obligated to talk.

“We can go outside to play, I’ve been told I’m not taking advantage of the grounds, so I’ll get brownie points from the staff too.”

They find a table in a sunny patch, “Logan asked about you today.”

“Yeah, I have about 24 hours before Jade talks to my parents and then she’ll be here first thing.”

“It’s nice to have someone who cares that much,” Cale feels like he’s stepping into very heavy territory.

“I’m not really the nicest to the people who care about me when I go into self-destruct mode and it’s harder to face someone who loves you despite the things you’ve said or done in the aftermath.

Their eyes start to water, and Cale feels a little guilty.

“Do you know how to play?” He changes the subject.

“Absolutely no clue.”

“That’s fine, I hear that I’m a good teacher.”

Cale has never seen Morgan smile so wide. He’s always thought they had one of those contagious smiles, but he feels a sense of pride in being the cause of it now.

“I suck at this. Are you sure you’re good teacher?”

“There’s definitely a learning curve, plus I’m basically a pro.”

“Wow, is Cale Makar bragging?”

“Is it bragging if it’s true?” Morgan gives him a shove.

They play one more game and Morgan still sucks, but admits they have fun despite that. They have to call it quits because Morgan has group therapy so they head back to their room.

Cale hands over his cribbage board, “you can borrow this, if you want to practice with someone here.”

“I don’t want to take your board; you have a road trip coming up.”

“Don’t worry I have another one.”

“You own two cribbage boards? I was definitely being hustled.”

Cale chuckles, “I don’t think it’s hustling if there are no stakes.”

“A technicality,” Morgan smirks but takes the board nonetheless.

They awkwardly stand in Morgan’s room, just goofily smiling at each other. Not sure if they want to end their time together, even though they have to.

“Do you want to sign my cast?”

“What?”

“If I have a famous autograph, I’ll be the coolest person in group,” Morgan bites back her smile.

“In that case, sure.”

Morgan finds a marker and hands it over. Cale holds their cast, dangerously close to brushing their fingers while he signs.

“Thanks, I’ll see you after your road trip?”

“Yeah, rematch?”

Morgan gives a thumbs up and a wave as Cale leaves.

|||

“You little rat!”

Cale whips his head over to the voice in the hallway, but feels a punch in his arm before he can identify the voice.

“Cale Makar, I thought you were a nice boy,” Jade comes into focus in the hallway after the game, she’s fuming and Cale wonders if she’s been letting this fester for the whole hockey game.

He can assume what she’s mad about, but he can’t seem to wipe the dumbfounded look off his face as he stares.

“You signed her cast, and you didn’t tell me or Logan where she was? What the actual fuck.”

She punches him a few more times for emphasis.

The other guys trickling out of the locker room can’t help but stare, it’s not a normal occurrence for Cale to get yelled at by anyone.

Logan finally emerges and tries to calm his girlfriend down, or at least stop her from causing a scene.

“She made me promise not tell.”

“Oh, well then that’s okay, people in psychiatric hospitals notably have good judgement.”

Cale winces.

“Jade honey, don’t blame Cale.”

Jade let’s out a huff, like she’s still not sure.

“We should be glad Mo is reaching out to someone, instead of pushing everyone away,” OC reasons.

“Fine, I guess I’ll forgive you,” a small smile begins to form, “you seem to be a good influence, Mo made a friend in the hospital, and they’ve never done that before. And because of cribbage of all things.”

Cale feels his face heat up. He’s been called a good influence dozens of times in his life, but this one makes him feel giddy.

“Keep it up is what I’m saying. You’re in the trenches with us now, especially when Morgan is back in the real world.”

“Yeah of course, I think I graduated from really, really good acquaintance to actual friend.”

Then Jade pulls him into a tight hug, making a full 180 in the span of a single conversation.

|||

Cale comes from home from a road trip and finds Morgan sitting against the door to his place.

“Should I be concerned or excited for this visit?” He tries to keep it light, but his heart is racing with legitimate concern.

“I didn’t escape from the mental institution if that’s what you’re thinking, I got released three days ago.”

Morgan stands up so Cale can unlock his door.

“It’s just I took a leave of absence from school and in hindsight that may have been a mistake.”

“Yeah? I didn’t even finish college so I’m not exactly well-informed on grad school, but I can’t imagine missing two weeks is that easy to make up especially near the end of the semester.”

“That was my reasoning, but it’s only been three days and my schedule is a little too open.”

They follow Cale into the apartment, and flop onto the couch like they own the place. Cale feels the need to keep an eye on Morgan but also doesn’t want to be suffocating and he has luggage to put away and laundry to start.

Morgan keeps going on like they just need to talk so Cale goes about his business while he listens.

“I can only go to so much therapy or meetings and I don’t have a new sponsor yet, and all my friends except you and Logan have real jobs, so I’m feeling a bit aimless. Maybe I should pick up a hobby.”

“Maybe you could pick more shifts at work,” Cale decides chores can wait a bit and flops down on the couch next Morgan, picking up their legs to rest across his.

“Well I work at a bar, which is great for hiding alcoholism, not great for sobriety.”

“Yikes, probably not. What did you do in the past?”

“Throw myself into school or lie about getting sober.”

“Right,” Cale feels a bit out of his depth here, “Want to go on a hike?”

“Like right now? Didn’t you just get back from a road trip, shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I’m not gonna make you climb a mountain,” he stands up and offers his hands to help Morgan up, “exercise gives you endorphins.”

“Isn’t that from Legally Blonde?”

Cale can feel his ears burning but notices Morgan is flushing too, he realizes they’re still holding hands, neither making the first move to let go.

And that’s how Cale finds his off time filled with trails around Denver. Sometimes just the two of them, not really talking, just heavy breathing and enjoying the views. Sometimes with OC and Jade, which weirdly makes Cale’s nervous, it’s somehow more intimate than when it’s just Morgan and himself.

His heart sings when Morgan sends him a picture of a hike, they took on their own, or with some people from group, or Jade. He likes knowing they’re filling their time with something; that he’s a good influence, a good friend even when he can’t physically be involved.

And he can’t help but want Morgan involved in his life too. It’s why on one of their “double date” hikes he finally gets the courage to ask.

“You want to come to our next home game Mo?”

Morgan is still gasping a bit from the last incline they hiked up, but they smile through it regardless.

Jade is the first to speak up, “It’s a playoff game, will that be too much for you?”

“I don’t know, but I can’t come anyway. I’m getting my 30-day chip that night.”

“Oh fuck, Mo I completely forgot. I wanted us to be there to celebrate with you,” Jade pouts.

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“No that’s a huge deal, congrats,” Cale smiles through his selfish disappointment.

“Jade, it’s okay if you miss the game,” Logan adds, his own disappointment shining through a bit too, the whole conversation becoming a bit of a downer.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been a month sober, go cheer on our team for me Jade. And I’ll go to the next game,” Jade makes a noise of concern, “and if it’s too much I leave early to go to a meeting or something.”

“Fine, but I’m still getting you a cake to celebrate on another day.”

It turns out a game and a playoff game on top of that is too much. Morgan barely makes it through the first before they have to excuse themselves.

They text Cale: Sorry I’m too lame to hang, but still screaming and cheering in spirit

Cale can’t help but feel sad when he isn’t greeted by Morgan, watching everyone else get celebratory hugs from loved one feels like a stab in the gut. Jade gives him a hug that makes him a feel a bit pathetic.

“We’re going to Mo’s for some ice cream cake if you want to join, I know they’d like you there.”

He feels a little less pathetic and feels something warm make its home behind his sternum.

|||

They win the next game but then it seems to all go to shit.

He doesn’t mean for the hit to be that bad. He could make excuses about the heat of the game; about the blood that buzzes in his ears that makes him so singularly focused on the ice. But it doesn’t change what happens, how it looks in the replay. It looks bad, it is bad, and yeah, he probably deserves the suspension he gets.

It doesn’t help that they lose the game, in OT of all things.

He’s angry and blames himself for all the team’s problems, deep down he knows it’s irrational, he just can’t help it.

Morgan calls him, their name flashing on his phone would usually cause his heart to skip a beat, but he’s just tired. He answers anyway.

“Hey, how are you?”

There’s no pity or even concern in their voice, just a normal greeting like Morgan doesn’t know what happened. He’s torn between relief and anger.

He grunts in response.

“Ooh, never a good greeting.”

“Any reason you called?” He doesn’t recognize his own voice with the tone that comes out on its own accord.

“Just wanted to catch up, see if you wanted to hang out or something. Get your mind off the playoffs for a bit.”

“Don’t you have your own problems to worry about? Fix yourself before getting in my business,” he snaps before he can stop himself.

He wants to be angry; he wants to wallow in his frustration and disappointment. Morgan just happens to be the first person he can target it at.

“Oh. Justdon’tbetoohardonyourself,” they spit the last bit out in one word before hanging up.

Cale has even more reason to be hard on himself now. He gets a sick enjoyment from picking at his wounds rather than licking them.

But the guilt weighs on him.

It weighs on him when OC sends a glare his way during practice, clearly hearing how Cale acted towards Morgan.

It weighs on him when he gets back into the lineup, even when he has two points on the board.

It weighs on him as he sits in stall and stares at his hands, having lost the series. It feels like everything went wrong because of him, and he hates that there is a degree of truth in that thought.

When he finally feels like he’s mentally beat himself up enough in the locker room, he gets up to beat himself up more at home.

Morgan is there sitting against his door. Cale thinks of turning around and running, but since he’s being a glutton for punishment at the moment, he faces this head on.

“Sorry about the game, sucks,” Morgan stands up and hugs him.

Before he knows it, he’s hugging them back and crying.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs out, knowing it’s not enough but all he can give right now.

“It’s okay,” they rub his back, their cast feeling weirdly soothing.

“It’s not, that was a really shitty thing to do.”

“If anyone knows about lashing out when things are bad, it’s me. You’re forgiven.”

Morgan pulls away and gives him a reassuring smile, Cale wants to believe that he’s forgiven. They seem to sense that.

“Seriously Cale. Right before I went to rehab the first time, Jade had threatened to tell my parents about my problems, so I told her if she did that she would never find another friend because she was completely unlovable and I only kept her around because of how pathetic she was.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, doesn’t make it okay to say those things, it’s been like a decade I’m still trying to make it up to Jade, but you’re forgiven for letting your emotions get the better of you.”

“At least you had drugs to blame it on, that was all me,” Cale smirks, before he widens his eyes, realizing how fucked up that was to say.

But Morgan bursts out into a laugh, it feels like winning in a miniscule way.

“Now we’re real friends,” they ruffle his hair, “an acquaintance would never feel comfortable enough to make that joke.”

The word friend doesn’t sit quite right with Cale, like wearing a shirt that’s a size too small.

Morgan grabs his hand and gives it a squeeze, “I’m glad we’ll be on good terms before you go back to Calgary.”

He grabs their fingers peeking out of the cast and takes a big swing, “Calgary has some good trails around, if you feel like getting away for a bit, we can celebrate 60 days of sobriety.”

Morgan is trying to bite back a smile, “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

They stand in the hallway, grinning at each other like dopes and holding hands. Neither wanting to say goodbye but not really sure what to do next.

Then Morgan kisses him. It’s not quite a peck yet not quite a deep, passionate kiss. It’s something different: tender and meaningful.

“I’m not really supposed to date anyone for a year,” Cale furrows his brows in response.

“It’s an NA/AA thing, we’re supposed to focus on recovery and ourselves before we start putting energy towards other people.”

“Oh, yeah that’s–” Cale tries to hide his disappointment.

“But you’ll be the first person I call when I get there,” they intertwine their fingers, “cause maybe you can graduate from friend to something more.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” neither one can wipe the stupid grin off their face.

[thedreadvampy]

Midcentury American novels update:

Finished Farenheit 451 on Thursday and it didn't hit me to the degree Catcher in the Rye did but I do completely get the sense of despair and the hunt for something to cling to. Umm also there's an actual nuclear apocalypse in this book which I. Did not know through my general cultural osmosis. And it made a lot of the stuff that initially read a bit as 'you can't say ANYTHING now cause of 50s Woke' less irritating in hindsight, cause the looming presence of nuclear war gives some real crunch to the overall theme of looking away from the discomfort of acknowledging what's wrong. Still not 100% comfortable with 'well we started burning books lest minorities become offended' as a midpoint comment but like I read this when I was 12 or 13 and very much came away with the sense that it was a shallow What If TV But Too Much kind of story that was very pleased with its own intellectualism. and I don't really think that's what it is I think it's a primal scream of WON'T ANYONE DO ANYTHING????? CAUSE I AM TOO SMALL AND TOO STUPID AND TOO COMPLICIT BUT NOBODY ELSE IS MOVING EITHER???? which you know. I can connect with at this time.

anyway then I reread One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest yesterday. That one I actually have read as an adult, like 10 years ago, and what I remembered mostly from it was the degree to which either the characters, the author, or both, truly despise women. On reread I don't think that's entirely fair, although it's hard to tell inside one character's very limited and metaphorical perspective - I don't think Ken Kesey hates women, I think that Candy and Sandy are relatively whole people and the other women in the story are avatars of the system abusing the men on the ward, so Chief Brogden sees them as such. Getting over the general 60s misogyny miasma, though, I really really liked it and stayed up very late last night finishing it, I think it has a lot of very coherent things to say about trauma, power and marginalisation and I think it's all a bit Foucault. It's odd that I remembered it as being very het-white-American-male in tone because this time around it felt very interested in how people are artificially marginalised in order to preserve power, and specifically in the violent assimilation of Indigenous communities, so I truly don't know why I went away last time feeling it was so tone-deaf. It's really good, is the thing.

(As a side note, cause Sam's copy is an 80s film tie in copy - there's no fucking way that film is good, right? Cause I actively cannot imagine how you would make a film adaptation of a book that exists so much in one mostly-silent character's head, kind of unmoored from time and moving between reality, metaphor and hallucinations, and with a fairly distant relationship to the literal events, and have it not be shit. Animation could maybe do it and you could potentially do it with a really good effects department to establish early on that this isn't a neutral, literal depiction, but even so it feels like doing this in a visual medium would undercut the fact that most of the book's story involves stuff that isn't really happening on a visual or audible level.

Like about a tenth of the text is Chief Brogden drawing connections, conclusions, describing the emotional and sensory experiences of things like dissociation, anxiety and electrocution, and generally explaining why the things that he and the other patients do that seem random make sense to him. And even with heavy voiceover it seems to me that a) a film would mostly be us watching mental patients act the way we expect mental patients to act, without the insight we get through his eyes, and b) it would inevitably need to be about what a guy McMurphy is, either positively or negatively, which to be entirely honest is kind of not what the book is about even though that's the plot of the book?)

The book isn't about McMurphy, it's about people realising they've not only had their agency taken away, but given it up themselves, and how they react to that and what it would mean to reclaim that. McMurphy's one of several people going through that arc, and he's going through it in an opposite direction to the people around him, but it's not more about him than about Chief Brogden or Billy or Harding or even Nurse Ratched. But I feel like because of how film language works, it would be very hard to make a film of One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest where McMurphy wasn't the main character. And he's not. Chief Bromden is the main character as well as the narrator - his life is defined by people collapsing under unbearable pressure and giving up their freedom and agency, which is how his tribe lost their land and how he lost his agency and his power of speech, and watching McMurphy force the people in power to subdue him by force rather than him caving in, the Chief makes actual choices about how he wants to respond to power that don't involve him falling out of reality or becoming invisible. and I think like halfway through I was like 'ehhh don't really get why Kesey went with a specifically Native protagonist' and by the back end of the book it is extremely clear to me why.

Cause his arc has a lot to do with the violence against indigenous communities and while I don't think that the book is primarily a metaphor, per se, because it very much is literally about institutionalisation and the stigmatisation of inconvenient Madness, I do think it's also saying things it wants us to apply to other relationships of power and assimilation, starting with the forced assimilation and land theft of Native Americans, and touching in on class, politics, race and sexuality more generally. Not much on gender, mind - I don't think that it does actually despise women, but it also isn't very interested in interrogating anything about them other than the impacts they have on men, which 🤷‍♀️ 60s innit.

idk I liked it a lot. I liked Farenheit 451 pretty well and better than I expected to, but Catcher and One Flew have both got me in this kind of rambly post-read mode where I'm just turning them over and over in my head to look at them, you know?

[buzzdixonwriter]

A Writer’s Guide To Dopamine And Serotonin

Dopamine is the hormone / neurotransmitter our brain generates when something delights us, serotonin is the hormone / neurotransmitter our brain generates when something pleases us.

To grossly over simplify matters, dopamine is the brilliant spark, serotonin is the warmth from a long-lasting coal.

Genre fiction and its tropes are directly crafted to generate dopamine responses.  We want the colorful villain, the terrible peril, the stunning reversal, and feel disappointed when genre fiction fails to deliver.

We don’t want them presented to us exactly the same way every time we encounter them, but we want them nonetheless.

They’re like popcorn at the movies, all part of the fun experience.

Genre fiction as a whole may trigger serotonin, but that release is less from individual works themselves and more from the pleasant memories and nostalgia the genre evokes.  In the case of serotonin we get the same feeling from genre fiction as we do from revisiting a favorite spot or hearing an old favorite song.

Literary fiction -- and by this we mean anything that does not set out to fulfill genre expectations but rather tell its own story -- may trigger dopamine responses, but those tend to be responses to genuine surprise, not novelty.

A genuine surprise is something 100% logical for the story in question but totally unexpected by the reader, novelty is simply a variation on a theme, such as a pirate with two hooks for hands.* 

The long lasting appeal of literary fiction is that unlike genre fiction, it can provide new insights and stimulate new thoughts every time it’s reread. 

We can only extract so much wealth from Goldfinger while Moby Dick is a never ending wellspring for the imagination.

Some will claim this is pretentiousness, an artificial elevation of artsy-phartsy literature over two-fisted hard boiled writing, but nothing could be further from the truth.

While some literary fiction attempts to soar to undreamed of imaginary heights, a lot of it focuses on more grounded matters.

And literary fiction -- when it clicks -- often creates its own tropes that are imitated by other works to form a brand new genre.  This is often the case when a writer heads into new territory and -- when rewarded by enthusiasm from readers -- sees attempts to imitate that success again and again by others.

Mark Twain found popular success with Tom Sawyer and followed it with three sequels.  Two sequels were mercenary reiterations of his original work -- and justly forgotten today.

The third? 

He stepped out of his comfort zone and penned Huckleberry Finn which is arguably the quintessential American novel.

It would be unfair to claim all genre fiction is the equivalent of junk food – some of it can be quite nutritious comfort food – but the very appeal of genre fiction forces it into a groove no deeper than a dixie cup.  When it does break out it’s usually an explosion that shatters all genre boundaries imposed on it.

Genre fiction’s stated goal is not to supply a well balanced meal but rather savory morsels to get the audience begging for more.

Literary fiction wants to engage its audience but feels disinclined to do so by catering to their whims.  There is a certain arrogance among literary writers:  This is my/story, gawddammit, and I won’t jump through your hopes to tell it.

And in fairness, when literary fiction goes awry, it can be damn near unreadable.

And this isn’t counting all the so-called literary fiction that is actually just another specific but not well known sub-genre in pop fiction.**

Don’t misconstrue this as claiming literary fiction needs to be ”serious” in any sense of the word.  Alice In Wonderland, Catch-22, and One Flew Over The Cuckoo Nest are all rollicking fun and each took readers somewhere they’ve never been before.

Am I passing judgment on writers who favor one over the other? 

Well…yeah.  But only in the context of what feels right for me.

I’m fully capable of writing a thriller that punches all the boxes of the thriller enre tropes…

…but I don’t want to.***

To me it feels like squandering my time and talent, like an Olympic athlete competing in a middle school track meet.

To all the writers I know who write in that and other genres and feel enriched by it (and not just monetarily so), more power to ye, brothers and sisters.  Follow your bliss and write what your soul tells you to write.

But for those who seek that extra challenge, who want to pioneer new territory where we possess no idea anyone will want to follow, the road from Omelas is clear, even if it’s the path less taken.

  © Buzz Dixon

  *  How does he go to the bathroom?  That’s why he’s so mean.  No joke too old, no gag too shopworn.

** Looking at you, college professors who just wrote a novel about a college professor having an affair with a student.

*** Look at what I’ve written in the past; thrillers are clearly in my wheelhouse.

[state-of-disorder]

Just for your information I post One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest, The Shining, Phantom Of The Opera and the Hannibal (Hopkins) Movies but not in a normal and even way more like this

Imagine description: Revolving door spinning one of twice and then blowing up

[hannibal-confessions-nbc]

obviously none of us are sane here but I NEED TO KNOW someone’s reaction to this and I’m too shy to tell any of my beloved mutuals. So if I’m at work and I’m slightly bored or if I’m feeling sad and weird or if I’m trying to go to sleep I just imagine complex scenarios where Hannibal/Will get tortured and the amount of peace and like satisfaction it gives me is kinda wild and slightly worrying. Like yes yes I’m a whump hurt/comfort enjoyer and that’s fine BUT WHY DO I THINK ABOUT IT SO MUCH. I’ll have a fixation on one particular thing for a while, maybe a couple months or so, and then focus on that and the different ways it plays out. Then I’ll move on to something else. The most recent past ones I clearly remember I had before was Will getting his eyes gouged out, Hannibal getting a hand amputated by Matthew instead of just his stupid little scars, and this months special is Hannibal getting electroshock therapy but like in the very sensationalized old-fashioned “one flew over the cuckoos nest” way and not like the normal medical treatment way that’s used nowadays. I do research, imagine how he’d sound with the bit in his mouth, what nervous chatter would like look for him, whether they’d give him a sedative, how they’d cart him to the actual room for it, etc. Yeah i don’t really know what I’m looking for here, just your honest thoughts would be great because I just want to know if anyone else does this too 😭

I don't have much to say so if anybody has words of wisdom for anon, the comments and tags are open. I think they'd greatly appreciate it

[beastblade69]

okay, so apparently tumbrl shadow banned my previous account or smth, so I'm posting all of my one flew over the cuckoo's nest drawings once again. but for those who don't know: I draw book based one flew over the cuckoo's nest characters, so basically it's how I imagine them based on their descriptions from the book (and ofc with my headcanons)

[wheelscomedyandmore]

"See him once, and he catches your eye. See him again, and he catches your eye, puts it in a cage, gives it a name and keeps it as a pet. We don't want to say what happens when you see him a third time."

- Adam Sternbergh, co-author, "Hey! It's That Guy!"

Some actors work a lifetime to perfect what Vincent Schiavelli could do with a glance. This wasn't because of his acting ability — though he was a fine actor. Schiavelli had the countenance of a melting clock, the hooded eyes of a serial killer, the smile of someone who might be off his medication. It was a curse he forged into a career. By the time Schiavelli died of lung cancer in 2005, he had starred in 150 television shows and movies, usually as a hit man, a madman or a mad scientist. He was name you couldn't remember with a face you couldn't forget.

His looks were at least partly attributed to Marfan Syndrome, a genetic defect that affects the connective tissue of the body. Those who have Marfan — and Abraham Lincoln is considered to be one — tend to be very tall and loose-jointed, with limbs disproportionate to the rest of the body. Schiavelli, all 6-foot-4 of him, was an honorary co-chair of the National Marfan Foundation, and would speak to youth about the disorder.

You can only imagine what the audition was like for his breakthrough role in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" (1975) Schiavelli probably just walked in, all limbs and nose, and they put him in a mental institution. It's a credit to his talents — honed at New York University's Tisch School of the Arts, where he met "Cuckoo's" director Milos Forman — that Schiavelli wasn't trapped in the asylum. In fact, he played comedy more than creepy, in films like "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" (1982) and "Better Off Dead" (1985). In addition, Schiavelli won a James Beard Foundation journalism award in 2001 for a Los Angeles Times article on Sicilian cooking. (Fox News)

Happy Birthday, Vincent Schiavelli!

[innerangeltoadlover]

30. There was a film in the 80s called Ordinary People which made an impression on me. I was a teenager and I sensed that trouble was ahead for me. At this age one does not really grasp that Class divides exist – I was fed, housed, schooled and had a healthy social group. The film centres on a family with a suicidal son being treated by a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist is a central figure in the film- always available to this ailing family and determined to get to the crux of their problems. As a 15 year old I believed this was what psychiatrists did and I think it affected my ability to pull away from this ideal. Of course the name of the film is a complete misnomer – this is a family that lives in a mansion who can afford a psychiatrist at their beck and call. The reality for those of us without money is the complete opposite and at the time I was diagnosed (I can say this only in hindsight) I believe a diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia was status related. If you can’t afford expensive treatment -pills are the treatment and a diagnosis of schizophrenia makes this type of treatment legal. I also think there is a distinction in treatment of psychosis and neurosis which begins with Freud. Neurosis as characterised by the film is treatable with time and money – psychosis however is where Freud puts his untreatable patients with the “you can’t reason with a schizophrenic” ideology . Though I realise this is a somewhat generalised interpretation of treatment there is something about our diagnosis that mimics the relationship between the aristocracy and the masses; something about the doctor , patient relationship which smells of snobbery - the distance that dealing with grave problems that medication creates coupled with the language of science is not support it is the opposite. I can almost imagine Freud in his gondola discussing his patients as a mass and completely dehumanising those who were beyond help and flapping around his latest paper. This is where contemporary psychiatrists can justify 15 minute appointments because a genius nearly 200 years ago decided it was ok. Funnily enough the doctor who treated me resembled Freud and if you turned up a few minutes late for your appointment he would stand hand on hips at reception like an OCD case. I did complain about this behaviour to my former psychiatrist who defended him by shutting me down with “He is a brilliant man” . Brilliance is of no interest to a schizophrenic but empathy is. Having travelled through the mental health system I now realise that my story resembles One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest in one very significant aspect - that of powerlessness. When I first saw this film I viewed it more as a caricature but as I have aged it has become metaphorically correct. My future has been in the hands of people who don’t know me and care very little about my circumstances.

[monkeytrick]

Medic fav movies: -A zed and two noughts -dr mabuse the gambler + the testament of dr mabuse. And Metropolis while we're at it. Easy to say but. I do think he has a healthy appreciation for fritz lang -On a similar note: loves the original cabinet of dr caligari and also the weird 60s remake of it that you can't find anywhere with equal fervor -Experiment in terror -Decoder (1984) like as in the throbbing gristle movie -World on a wire Knowledgeable on film and has interests that range far and wide but is generally pretty reserved regarding it. Will watch all sorts of shit with Heavy and occasionally Engineer when the time is right but I think for the most part when the suggestion to watch a movie comes up he just tries to convince everyone to watch like pimple popping compilations

Heavy fav movies: -Also really easy to say but Stalker bc cmon. And Mirror, Solaris, Andrei Rublev, etc -The Ascent (1977) -Welcome or no trespassing (1964). -Underground (1995) -The like 4 different war and peace movies by sergey bondarchuk -And yknow what I think he'd fucking love Farewell my concubine and I feel very assured in this

Spy fav movies: -Purple Noon -- I think he has reasonably seen/read and enjoyed other works related to tom ripley but this is the only one I'm certain about. Like cmon now. -The red shoes -The discreet charm of the bourgeoisie LOL -Les Vampires AND Irma Vep -General hitchcock fan and I think his fav movie of his is Rope. Like. Ok. I'm sorry. But it has to be this way -The taking of pelham 123 the seventies one -Fucking reservoir dogs, somehow. Bonds with scout over this He WILL look down on everyone else for their choices of favorite Hitchcock movies even if he likes them too (he does, generally) because he thinks everyone else's reasons for liking what they do are worse than his. gets really distracted and upset thinking about this

Scout fav movies: -DRIVE -PULP FICTION -FIGHT CLUB -RESERVOIR DOGS AGAIN -AMERICAN PSYCHO -SHAUN OF THE DEAD (bonds with Spy over this one too. Spy goes like ''the editing of this is nauseating and the characters are unpleasant'' but as they continue watching they both get like, really sad and guilty. spy moreso. i havent seen shaun of the dead)

Demoman: I think that at some point when he was a TEEN his mom was like. Cmon lad. You haven't got any hobbies. You're wasting away here. So he found time in between his like 3-5 jobs to take a theater class at a high school he did not go to and they just let him until his CURSED EYE started wreaking havoc on the place. He never pursued his dreams of theater again but I imagine he loves wtaching like, shakespeare adaption movies and thinking about how he would have done a better job. -likes chimes at midnight, othello, and hamlet from orson welles -ran+othello+the bad sleep well -Conversely also really fucking loves like. Steel magnolias. and fried green tomatoes and shit -All time favorite movie is Muriel's Wedding for some reason

Sniper: -Genuinely, earnestly. Loves crocodile dundee with all his heart. And at some point someone else who he'd been in a spat with puts it on in hopes it would offend him but it makes him cry. from joy. because he loves it -Similar feelings towards mad max. watches it and goes like. oh god. this is just like my life -Fav hitchcock is vertigo -Fistful of dollars trilogy (bonds with engie over this) + once upon a time in the west -Fucking. Butch cassidy and the sundance kid LOL -Seven samurai and also like literally every movie that could be considered a remake of it in some form regardless of quality -Night/Dawn/Day of the dead. AND return of the living dead and furthermore the completely unrelated City of the living dead

Engineer movies: -Shares in the sergio leone appreciation with sniper. Likes once upon a time in america, but not once upon a time in the west, which is the opposite of how sniper feels -Touch of evil -One flew over the cuckoo's nest -My darling clementine -David and lisa -The swimmer

Soldier owns two movies, which are: -A version of American Sniper cut down to like 20 minutes and dubbed over with weird fucked up voices but he thinks it's the original and he loves it. He thinks it's beautiful and it makes him cry -An incomplete VHS recording of dr strangelove including television commercials that just has clips from the very beginning and end. This one also makes him cry

Pyro: Has seen every single movie mentioned here and thinks they are all beautiful. Also has a tape of the wicker man that is in such horrendous quality that it's rendered completely unintelligible to anyone else. They like to watch the end

Not meant to be a modern setting or anything I'm just choosing to believe that the existence of australium led to a domino effect ending with every single movie on this list that otherwise wouldn't exist yet being made in the 1960s with no changes. And VHS tapes and DVDs are both part of a lucrative enterprise that will never die

[czolgusszy]

imagining an edit of girl, interrupted where one flew over the cuckoo's nest is clearly happening in the backgrohnd

[capdragnet]

Cinematic Visionaries: Directors Who Redefined Film

Explore the world of cinema through the eyes of these visionary directors. Each one has left an indelible mark on the art of filmmaking, offering unique perspectives and storytelling styles that have redefined the medium. From profound introspection to dark humor and dystopian landscapes, these directors have it all.

Ingmar Bergman

Bergman's films are profound journeys into the human soul. He skillfully explores existential and psychological themes, inviting viewers to confront the depths of their own humanity. His works, such as "The Seventh Seal" and "Persona," are renowned for their introspective character studies and intricate narratives, often leaving audiences with a lingering sense of introspection and philosophical contemplation.

Jim Jarmusch

Jarmusch is a master of understated storytelling. His films feature a minimalist style and quirky characters, offering a refreshing departure from mainstream cinema. Works like "Stranger Than Paradise" and "Dead Man" showcase his ability to capture the essence of the mundane and infuse it with an air of the extraordinary, all while maintaining a distinct sense of deadpan humor.

Andrei Tarkovsky

Tarkovsky's work is a visual and philosophical treat. His films, including "Stalker" and "Solaris," are like moving paintings, inviting viewers to reflect on the mysteries of life and existence. His signature long takes and profound meditations on human nature make each of his works a profound cinematic experience.

Terrence Malick

Malick's films are poetic reflections on the human condition. He combines stunning visuals with profound philosophical inquiries, leaving a lasting impression. "The Tree of Life" and "Days of Heaven" are exemplars of his unique style, where the natural world often takes on symbolic significance, weaving together narratives of human existence and spirituality.

Jean-Luc Godard

A pioneer of cinematic innovation, Godard challenges the conventions of storytelling. His films, like "Breathless" and "Contempt," are thought-provoking and push the boundaries of traditional filmmaking. Godard's use of jump cuts and non-linear narratives has had a profound influence on modern cinema.

Guillermo del Toro

Del Toro's imagination knows no bounds. He crafts dark and fantastical worlds with intricate detail, creating emotionally rich cinematic experiences. "Pan's Labyrinth" is a prime example, blending historical drama with dark fantasy elements to deliver a haunting and visually stunning tale.

Stanley Kubrick

Kubrick's meticulous craftsmanship is evident in every frame. His versatility across genres, from sci-fi with "2001: A Space Odyssey" to horror with "The Shining," showcases his genius as a filmmaker. His films are marked by their attention to detail, innovative cinematography, and exploration of complex themes.

Tom Ford

Ford's transition from fashion to film is marked by elegant storytelling. "A Single Man," his directorial debut, is a poignant exploration of grief and love. Ford's films are characterized by their visual sophistication and emotional depth.

Danny Boyle

Boyle's films are a burst of energy and emotion. They entertain while also making viewers ponder deeper questions. "Slumdog Millionaire" is a prime example, blending a compelling narrative with themes of destiny and resilience. Boyle's ability to infuse optimism into his storytelling is a hallmark of his work.

Milos Forman

Forman's films often challenge societal norms. "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" is a timeless classic that continues to resonate, addressing themes of individuality and rebellion against institutional authority. His films are known for their sharp social commentary and strong character development.

Werner Herzog

Herzog's documentaries are captivating journeys into the unknown. He explores the extremes of human nature and the natural world with raw intensity. Films like "Aguirre, the Wrath of God" and "Fitzcarraldo" are not only visually striking but also offer deep insights into the human spirit's pursuit of grand ambitions in the face of harsh realities.

Andrey Zvyagintsev

Zvyagintsev's films offer a stark and haunting realism, often shining a critical light on contemporary Russian society. Works such as "Leviathan" and "Loveless" are characterized by their unflinching portrayal of human struggles and societal injustices, demanding viewers' introspection.

Martin Scorsese

Scorsese's crime dramas are iconic, known for their intense storytelling and memorable characters. Films like "Goodfellas" and "Taxi Driver" delve deep into the darker aspects of human nature, exploring themes of morality, guilt, and redemption within the gritty backdrop of urban life.

Paul Thomas Anderson

Anderson's films are marked by ensemble casts and exploration of complex relationships. "There Will Be Blood" is unforgettable, showcasing his ability to create epic narratives that delve into the darkest corners of the human psyche. His films often explore themes of ambition, power, and familial bonds.

Lars von Trier

Von Trier is a provocateur who challenges societal norms and pushes boundaries. His films, like "Melancholia," are both visually stunning and emotionally intense. Von Trier's works often invite viewers to confront uncomfortable truths about human nature and society.

Alexander Sokurov

Sokurov's meditative films and long takes are mesmerizing. "Russian Ark," famously filmed in a single, uninterrupted shot, is a cinematic marvel. His films, including "Faust" and "Mother and Son," often delve into profound philosophical and existential questions.

Alexey Balabanov

Balabanov's dark humor and gritty portrayals offer a unique perspective on Russian society. Films like "Brother" and "Brat 2" blend humor and introspection, exploring themes of crime, identity, and post-Soviet Russia.

Denis Villeneuve

Villeneuve's visual storytelling is captivating, immersing viewers in richly detailed worlds. "Blade Runner 2049" is a testament to his skill in creating immersive and visually stunning dystopian landscapes. His films often explore themes of identity, technology, and the human condition.

Woody Allen

Allen's witty humor and tales of neurotic characters in New York City are timeless classics. Films like "Annie Hall" and "Manhattan" offer insightful reflections on love, relationships, and the human tendency to overanalyze life's complexities.

[andswarwrites]

Day 14

We're almost halfway through the month and the last few days have been pretty heavy.  If anyone read all four days' worth of “bipolar” writing, thank you so much and I'm so sorry.  And if anyone has read all fourteen days' worth of writing total , besides S-, who reads everything I write, I don't know what to say.  Anyone who reads my writing and enjoys it moves me to continue my craft, and I am exceedingly grateful.  So today's thousand words is going to be about my love of storytelling.

We've already established that I love reading, and I love writing.  I also love movies and TV shows, Youtube and/or Tiktok videos and online articles: stories can unfold in so many different ways.  From an anecdote over coffee to an epic tale at the cinema, storytelling shapes and enriches my life.  I love a story that makes me laugh or just feel good, that's why my go-to favorite shows are comedies and slice of life anime.  I also love something that stretches my imagination or makes me reflect, and that is why I love science fiction.

When I was little, my parents would rent a few movies over the weekend, and that would be how we would unwind as a family, we'd watch together.  After S- and I got married, we would rent movies too, but he would rent movies he'd seen that I hadn't and I would rent movies that I'd seen and he hadn't, so we could get to know each other's tastes.  He only messed up twice: he had me watch Twelve Monkeys (1995) and Hero (2002).  I would probably be able to watch them at this point in life, but then I was too sensitive, and those movies made me cry uncontrollably. S- was very distressed.

One of my very best friends took a cinematic course in college where she learned about film noir, westerns, and I can't remember the third genre.  Anyway, she would come over and we would watch classic movies from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) to In the Heat of the Night (1967).  I was used to classic movies because my mom loved old musicals, but exploring everything from Hitchcock's works to Casablanca helped me to develop a taste for pacing, dialogue, jump scares and plot twists.

When S- and I were dating, I told him how much I had loved the movie Serenity (2005).  When he figured out that I had seen the movie but was unaware of the show, he went out and bought the DVD box set and I watched it.  Apart from some TV shows I had watched as a kid, like 3rd Rock From The Sun and The Pretender, oh, and of course Star Trek Voyager, I didn't watch that much TV.  Our TV was reserved for movies; we didn’t have Cable.

So S- and I started renting or buying certain boxed sets of TV shows on DVD, from House MD to Babylon Five and Stargate SGI + Atlantis.  I developed such an obsession with the Stargate world that I wrote a fanfic about Elizabeth Weir, called Weir's Gate.  It's the only fanfic I have ever written.  When we finally broke down and got Netflix, we started watching a lot of shows, and some of them were anime.  Thanks to anime, I started reading manga, because I wanted to know how the stories continued.

Anime on Netflix led to anime on Crunchyroll.  That was when my appetite for slice of life formed.  From Laid Back Camp to Chihayafuru, I love to immerse myself in Japanese culture.  We didn't keep Netflix.  I know, what's wrong with us?  Crunchyroll seems to suit us better, as does Disney Plus.  If we start subscribing to all the streaming services out there, we'll go broke.  We have to pick and choose.  I'll be honest, even though I have a healthy (or unhealthy, depending on your point of view) love of science fiction, it wasn't until The Mandalorian that I started to have affection for Star Wars.  Please don't hurt me.

So the point I am trying to make is that as time has gone on, I have found all these different formats of stories to entertain me, from musicals as a kid, because my mom had four VHS tapes that my sister and I would watch together, to science fiction and sitcoms as a young adult, and also anime, in healthy doses, as well as classic black and white movies: my tastes in stories are ever evolving.  And that is only visual media.  In my reading I have discovered authors like Ken Follett and Barbara Kingsolver.  Plus we lived near a comic book store for a few years, so I accumulated TPBs and graphic novels!

My daughter recently introduced me to certain Youtubers who tell stories through their artwork, most notably Neytirix.  One of her videos features her garden, and how she fixed it up with the help of her mom, and at the end of her video she shares the art piece that she was inspired to create from her experiences.  Spoiler alert: it is breathtaking.  Another artist who uses nostalgia in her storytelling quite a bit is Whatsupbeanie, who I first started following on Instagram, but now also follow on Tumblr.

Most of the stories I enjoy are wholesome.  From Fred Astaire to Alina Tysoe, all my life I have gravitated to something visually colorful and uplifting.  And yet.  Sometimes I crave a story that will destroy me.  Run me through, pierce me to my very soul.  Why?  I have no idea.  And yet other times I want to escape to a completely different reality: far off in the future or far off on some distant planet.  All of these tastes are reflected in my writing.  We write the stories we would like to read.  Or at least we should.  Our stories should stir us first.  When I cry while writing a scene, S- cries while reading it, I kid you not. 

So to cap it all off, what I am trying to say is with each passing year I am honing my skill as a storyteller through my love of stories.  I'm not copying or plagiarizing,  I'm absorbing.  I'm assimilating and creating my own spin.  Because nobody can tell a story the way I can, and I can't tell a story the way anyone else can.  I need to embrace my distinct perspective, my distinct style, my choice of words.  A close friend told me recently that I can't write a weak character.  That made me want to try.  She also told me my weak character would turn out to be strong in the end.  That is probably true.  Some of my friends REALLY know me well.

[thatgordongirl]

2, 4 and 6

Thank you for the ask!!

2. What are you currently reading? 

I know I answered it previously, but I’ll add on that I’m close to finishing Henry V and going to read Leonardo Da Vinci’s notebooks 

4. Favourite book format: Hardcovers, Paperbacks, E-books, etc

Most of the time, I need an actual book I can touch to really immerse myself, reading fanfiction doesn’t feel the same, I’d probably only read that online. I prefer hardbacks, but I’ve bought e-books that I couldn’t get an actual copy of. 

6. What songs do you associate with specific books? 

Dirty Little Secret by The All-American Rejects is always connected with One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest, I imagine McMurphy winking instantly. Before You Go by Lewis Capaldi for Misery, I picture Annie Wilkes going through a depressive episode. Choice by Jack Stauber for The Bell Jar, Esther going through moods rapidly and trying to make sense of it