Why Art Matters: Remembering Fanfic

Beatles, Queen, Def Leppard - looks like I had a thing for British rock musicians.

This memory came about from a Reddit post discussing the coming-of-age movie Seeing Red and the main character Mei's notebook filled with drawings and stories about her crushes, from a boy band to the kid at the convenience store. Fellow adult women confessed to the vibrancy of their teenage imagination, falling in love with love and pimply boys elevated to gods in Nikes and Cheeto-stained t-shirts, and what we created out of that emotion.

One poster confessed to fanfic stories about Harrison Ford.

Another, drawings of herself with Prince.

My cringe-worthy contribution to the discussion? Back in the 80s, after we got MTV, I storyboarded a music video for Def Leppard and the ballad Too Late for Love. Oh lord, let’s see if I can remember the plot based on rereading the lyrics and a glance back at the object of my affection, lead guitarist Steve Clark.

It would also appear I have a thing for tall blondes. Why did you break my heart, like for real? RIP

In the video, Steve and I are in love, making eyes at each other while I write songs in a beat-up spiral notebook, playing together in a garage band until we split - he for Def Leppard, me to my American Catholic grade school while performing in some local band. 

We try to connect, the girl back home and the boy on the rise to superstardom. I look wistfully at a phone, and he stares sadly at a picture of me looking HOT, I am on stage alone staring out into a crowd, reaching for him in the darkness. I continue to write, gazing through lace curtains at the rain.

I was only about 13, so that pocket full of innocence was intact as I fantasized about my 22-year-old British lead guitarist boyfriend! And what girl didn't want to be the queen of the dream?

During the whoa-ohs and guitar solo, Steve misses me in return, gazing into the camera, sending flowers that somehow just miss me. Did no one think to send them along to me? Hey - was that a ring he just bought?

At the conclusion of the video, I sneak backstage to surprise him but groupies! Sleazy record management! Drug dealers! Crazy fans who are probably more age appropriate! Roadies! It's too much, I've lost him! I turn to leave, a tear sliding down my cheek because heartbreak is so appropriate at this moment. But Steve sees me in the crowd, his heart is true, and he disengages from the throng and races to catch up to me.

We face each other, the both of us wracked with emotion, and kiss, defying the meaning of the song, as Joe Elliot sings that we are bound to “play the fool.” 

So unoriginal. Cringe complete. 

Once I finished it, I was so embarrassed I hid the notes between my mattress and box spring for at least a year.  It may still be in a box of papers in the basement along with my other diaries.

As embarrassing as it is, I say keep creating preteens. This is your artistic heart sorting something out while you are transitioning into adulthood. Lest any reader judge, I know you’ve got some Duran Duran adventure diaries tucked away in a box somewhere.

Edited to add there's an official video for this song I never saw before today! My concept was better.

Loyalty

Halloween haul after hanging with his group

The boy has started eighth grade and is blossoming. He has a core group of friends that he hangs out with for football games, pizza parties, and school dances.

But he’s left a few behind, and it kind of hurts my heart. But Dave tells me to leave it be, we can’t orchestrate his social life for him. 

I was the loyal friend to a fault. My instincts were to leave no one friendless and leave no friend behind. 

This was not often reciprocated, as I was ditched for others more popular, with invites to better parties. Tides turned when I got my own car and was seen as the ride to the dance. 

Now that I think of it, I did resent my good nature being taken advantage of and saw right through it. So good on him for being honest with himself and not taking on the baggage, I guess. 

I know I’m not right, but I feel like this isn’t right either. 

November Playlist: Originals!

I’ve got a hand in this.

So I was at the Porcupine Tree show in September, surrounded by dudes entirely too tall for me to even attempt to stand on tiptoe to see the band. They were performing in shadows with a video playing behind them, so it was enough for me to sit and listen to the music. The mind started to wander, and I thought, "I could write a song."

Since I've got a set list of cover tunes I can play, what about original material? I mean, if the guy from Poison can knock out Every Rose Has Its Thorn, I could pen... something? 

I'm feeling tongue in cheek, a little punkish, a little open mic night, a little folky. Also feeling like this is the start of a new year’s resolution. I could write a song a month, with the resolve not to self edit or worry if it’s crap or not. After years of trying to win gold medals or complete a run with a personal best, might be nice to get an idea down on paper then let it go without worrying if it’s Grammy-worthy.

The girls.

I Wanna Be Stevie Nicks - an homage with a twist. Lyrics have me focusing on Stevie's lace, broken hearts, fairies, and doe eyes. But with her fuck it attitude and whiskey tinged vocals maaaaaybe, just maybe, I'd rather be Christine McVie. 

Fat Mom - meet me where I am. And who am I? Someone who is tired of fad diets and exercise class, who'd rather take a walk than a run. Someone transitioning away from an afternoon skate for little league double headers. Someone coming to terms with occupying my skin. Empowerment punk.

Canning Jar - letting my inner Laura out, and spicing things up with some country flavor. Gotta save the fruit, so some fun with color and flavor. 

Retro Crush - moms dream too! I obviously am nursing a little golden heart for 70s John Deacon "who's the shy boy behind Freddie? I suddenly want to go steady! But look at me, and he's in Queen and that was so many years agoooooo." LOL. 

Bracket to Counter - I have to sing about skating. This will be my turn - literally - at being Christine Lavin, the folk artist who wrote a song about the 1961 plane crash that took down the USFSA skating team. I can find a lilting melody and sing in quiet desperation about moving along and finding the joy in skating, and possibly my time in the sport as a competitor coming to a close. 

Ismeta - a story song. We were staying at a Hampton Inn downtown Chicago where we encountered the most astonishing breakfast room manager. It was 5-star treatment for galley kitchen free breakfast. She's Bosnian, and worked the room as if it were her life's work. She gave little bits of love to everyone, a banana for a man on the go, cinnamon rolls for Will, a hug and Earl Grey for me. What's the story there? 

Light a Candle, Say a Prayer - introspection. I'm not the only Catholic struggling with the church, yet pretty sure my faith is intact. Or is it? 

I'd Give You Mine - more introspection. Just someone is in need, and I wish I could give him what he needs but I can't.

Victory - I wrote this song when I was eight years old, and it was about overcoming shyness, winning a spelling bee, standing up to the school bully, all the things an eight year old would consider a victory. Can a 53 year old remember who she was (checks math) 45 years ago? 

Merch! Oh, I'd have Rachel, my cartoonist friend from Italy draw me and Deaky together for stickers. Concert tee would be a slightly out of focus photo of two hands canning some berry jam, or Ismeta's hands offering a to-go paper cup of tea.