Miscellaneous

How To Be A Badass: Course Review

How To Be A Badass: Course Review

I recently went along to ‘How to be a Badass’ training, which was provided by Liverpool Girl Geeks and led by Jenny Radcliffe. The two-hour session was designed to address some of the known issues around women in tech; namely that we often lack key negotiation skills and the resilience to navigate a male dominated workplace. Here I’m going to share some of the insights so that you too can become a Badass…

People Hacking

Jenny describes herself as a ‘social engineer,’ which is ominously ambigious, but basically entails the art of psychological manipulation or ‘people hacking.’ Jenny is equal parts endearing and terrifying: after telling us how she’s made an art of affability, my mind is immediately filled with suspicion. But she also seems like a genuinely interesting person with whom to have a drink and a chat.

It’s hard not to like her immediately. Her casual references to Discworld and Firefly, as well as the Mr Robot Evil Corp sticker on her laptop, automatically ingratiated her to a room of geeky girls. We talk about how difficult communication is for most people, perhaps especially for women – we’re often spoken over and ignored in professional situations, the social expectation for us to be demure is often butting heads with a need to be assertive.

It’s interesting to note however that in negotiation, talking loudest doesn’t always work, and in fact the real power lies with the listener.

She encourages us to continue with many traditionally female tactics, such as trying to understand others point of view and attempting to create a situation in which everyone wins. So often in business, women are encouraged to assume masculine traits – to show how professional they are through aggressive handshakes and powerful poses.

It’s a relief to hear that these aren’t generally considered to be indicators of professional success, and in fact betray a forced sincerity. Yet there are aspects of traditional femininity that we need to tone down. For instance, trying to keep emotion out of the debate can be one thing that is especially difficult for us women.

But it wasn’t all hippy-style communication techniques! She also talked about various methods used in torture, such as how to discover what people fear most and use it against them, and also explains ‘Aristotle’s rhetorical devices’ which are an effective tool for getting your argument across. I could go on here as it was fascinating stuff, but as her sessions sell for thousands I wouldn’t want to sell her short by giving the tools away for free!

Negotiation tips

The first half of our session dealt with negotiation. For many of us, we fall into business out of the necessity of having a job – we aren’t trained in how to negotiate a salary or ask for a raise, and most of the time our employers benefit from this situation. I’m lucky that I was brought up knowing my rights, and have a partner involved in a union, but generally speaking our society encourages us to be thankful for any paid employment and not to push for more. Being given the tools to properly prepare, to keep yourself calm and to reach a situation that pleases everyone is a valuable gift.

She talks to us about what we need to plan out before going into a negotiation – the outcomes you want, the interest lying beneath (for both parties), and the logical way to go about getting these things. I’ve often felt very anxious going into any kind of conflict, but having the right preparation underway can not only help you in the meeting, but also to calm nerves ahead of the sit-down. She explained a few in-depth psychological concepts but also how to present facts in a logical order and examining the motivations behind everyone’s position. I felt like this was really important – so often, business coaching seems to involve fighting to get what you want at the cost of others. Jenny made it clear that it doesn’t have to be this way, and in fact you’re more likely to get what you want when you appeal to what the other party wants as well.

The art of reading body language

The second part of our session was concerned with body language, and here I was totally hooked. As someone who binge watched ‘Lie To Me,’ I find the whole concept of micro-expressions and body language fascinating. Luckily, Jenny quickly assuaged my fears that she’d be telling us how to spot a liar based on minor ticks and microexpressions. The truth is, it doesn’t work like that – not everyone lies in the same way, or has the same giveaways, and you can’t always draw conclusions from a single point of data.

We learn body language from childhood, but it’s never taught to us directly. So we learn that this facial expression means sadness, this means happiness, this means fear, and we use their face and their body to decide whether they are strong people, truthful, confident or otherwise. The leaders among us will be the best at communicating non-verbally, making their words match their actions – and politicians are a whole other kettle of fish!

Log your successes

survivedLastly, she gave us some confidence tips, which felt like a form of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy – teaching us not to think in extremes, not to beat ourselves up for not achieving perfection, and to focus on solving a problem rather than assigning blame. One very important note she gave was to log our successes: most people will remember their failures far more acutely than their successes, but the wins are so much more important. By keeping a note of when your work has been praised, or when you’ve received a compliment, you have a record to look back on when you feel like a failure.

In short, I could have listened to Jenny talk for days. Whether she was telling us how to engage in manipulation, or showing us how to be confident her talk was fascinating. Everything could either be used practically, or was of great interest; after all, don’t we all want to learn those secrets of the body that give us away, and can help us to understand each other better?

 

Originally posted on Liverpool Girl Geeks

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Fifty Shades Of Feline

Fifty Shades Of Feline

Making new years resolutions – and, crucially, following them – has never been a strong suit of mine. So this year I’m not giving anything up, I’m not setting unrealistic goals, and I will plan for things to go wrong.

What I am doing is encouraging myself – and others – to practice their artistic talents by producing fifty pieces of art related to cats over the course of the year.

That’s right.

It’s Fifty Shades of Feline.

“But how do I get in on the ground floor of this revolutionary idea?!” I hear you cry. Allow me to expatiate!

  • Create a piece of art inspired by your cat or other cats (I’m sure like many others, my cat is my muse). Draw, paint, sing, make videos, craft – whatever you feel like.
  • Use the hashtag #fiftyshadesoffeline so that we can see everyone’s work, and I’ll repost some.
  • Nothing has to be perfect, beautifully artistic or poignant. Just do what you can and get it out there! It’s about quantity, not quality.
  • You may have noticed that a year has 52 weeks in it. I have done 50 specifically so that you can have two weeks off. Use them wisely!
  • The idea is to have 50 pieces by the end of 2017. If you don’t end up starting until later in the year, you can choose to either play catch-up or start the year from your first piece. Your call.

 

I’m going to be attempting this with my fancy new drawing tablet. I can’t draw, so don’t expect much.

Let’s kick this off shall we?!

fiftyshades1

 

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Ada Lovelace Day

Ada Lovelace Day

Today is Ada Lovelace Day! Which makes it the perfect opportunity to re-share my recent blog for the Liverpool Girl Geeks about the incredible, unique woman herself. She was a fascinating subject to research!

Link on the picture:

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The Library

The Library

This is not an original idea whatsoever – I have seen it done at least in Doctor Who and Avatar, and I’m sure many more. It’s like a dream place for book lovers!

I was thinking about it one night while trying to sleep, and parts of it came to me so vividly that I had to get it written down. This is what I ended up with – I tried to have some fun with the language, so please let me know what you think! (not you, spambots)

 

Here is every book that’s ever been written – and every book that ever will be.

As long as there has been writing, there has been the Library. From the outside, you couldn’t hope to see it all: on the inside it folds and turns back upon itself, creasing with the endless peaks and valleys of origami to fit inside it humanity’s insatiable lust for stories.

Once, stories were just sounds and shapes – told around a fire by humans waiting for their prey, they lasted only as long as their listeners’ memories. Without form the stories drifted into nothingness, filling up the void in the human subconscious with whispered fragments of truth. When we learned to write, we gave the truth life.

In The Library there are Ancient tomes in languages now dead to the world, covered in dust, their real life counterparts already crumbled into nihility. It’s not real dust of course – nothing here is real, not in any strict sense – but the human mind has a way of seeing only what most makes sense. Some are etched on clay tablets; they contain the answers to mysteries still unsolved by human science.

Here, classics grace the shelf alongside novels that were never known. Would it be a comfort, I wonder, for these failed writers to know that while their work never lived, it will also never die? Probably not. Just as well this isn’t for them.

This wing of the Library is for diaries – for what is a diary if not the private novels we all make of our lives? Why else would humans spend so much time writing down their inner thoughts and feelings, if not for some sense of prosperity? Golden-edged manuscripts detailing the inner thoughts of Princes and Saints are not kept in special cabinets, but sit next to the Hello Kitty padlocked diaries of children. The Library doesn’t care which has more worth.

And what about the books that were never finished?

They’re beneath your feet. Look carefully, and you’ll see that everywhere you step is made of them. They push up like fish to feed. As you walk you hear the sound of crunching frost, and feel your feet sink in as in freshly laid snow. But your senses are only trying to make sense of what they can’t: you’re making tracks in a thousand half-planned stories. Fragments of poetry cling to the soles of your shoes, all those tales that never had the chance to be told still clinging on, begging to be relevant. They bridge the gaps between the Library’s expansive rooms.

If you lived a thousand lifetimes you couldn’t hope to read even a fraction of the works here.

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Snippets Zine

Snippets Zine

My good friend Cat, half of the power couple running my favourite craft website Cut Out + Keep, very kindly allowed me to edit an issue of their fantastic zine, Snippets.

I’ve written for Snippets a few times before – starting with my in-person interview with one of my favoyrite musicians, Amanda Palmer, back in 2009. I’ve done book reviews, email and face-to-face interviews, product reviews and opinion pieces, but being in charge of my very own issue was something else entirely!

I chose to base it on Fandom, as I love seeing the things that people get excited about. I wanted to write about the things I love, and the way their Fandoms shape them, and ended up with some fantastic articles about things I would never have looked into it.

I’ll post some of the articles that I wrote individually, especially the cover star interview which was with two amazing geek ladies, Amy Dallen and Nika Harper from Geek & Sundry, but for now you can check it out here:

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Revenge

Revenge

Revenge.

That’s what keeps me going. hat gets me out of my shitty bunk each morning. The single, solitary thought that one day I’m gonna get my hands on those sons of bitches, and make them pay.

Grab a smoke. Take a pull and for a minute I can forget the hate and concentrate on the smoke, feeling it burn deep in my lungs like the wrath of god itself has crept inside me, made my heart its home. Draconian it spills from my nostrils, making me appear as the demon I really am.

Breathe in, fear.

Breathe out, fury.

Breathe in, guilt.

Breathe out, rage.

I feel like I could exhale smoke without even taking a drag.

I’ve spent years tracking those fuckers down, see. Years of waking up screaming, covered in sweat, seeing faces I love clear as the day they died only to have them fade before me. They looked different once – now all I can see is fucking sadness and betrayal, and it’s my fucking fault. I can’t even picture them smiling any more, and they had more joy in their lives than I ever had in mine. Not counting the joy they gave me, course.

I used to be a tea drinker. I used to greet strangers with a grin. Things change I guess – I sure haven’t seen any strangers I’ve felt like smiling at lately, and fuck knows the last time I had a cup of tea. Whisky and cigarettes are the currency of my body now – I put enough in, it works okay for a day or two.

When I get ’em, everything will be better. I’ll be able to say my goodbyes, maybe even stop seeing him every night. Those fucking eyes. Every good memory I have of him is torn away in that look, a look he never once gave me. Trust my fucking brain to ruin you, even for myself.

I’m gonna make ’em fucking pay, baby.

I’m gonna see you smile again.

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Badass Fictional Women of 2015

Badass Fictional Women of 2015

Earlier this year I did a Javascript coding course with the fantastic Liverpool Girl Geeks, who are trying to close the gender divide on STEM subjects. Although I’ve never been any good at science or maths, working in internet marketing has been a real eye-opener as to the things I’m capable of if I try hard, and I never would have tried out Javascript without help.

Luckily this wonderful organisation has also agreed to be host to my word stew, and this is the first piece I’ve written for their blog – hopefully many more will come!

2015 was a fantastic year for badass fictional women. Whether they were making their first appearances or wrapping up a long line of stories, they showed that the world’s attitudes to women have changed, and are still changing. We’re not in the clear yet, but having more women as well-rounded characters in fiction can only be progress.

 

Furiosa

The world balked when it found out that the real lead of the new Mad Max film was going to be…dun dun dun…a WOMAN.

“But it’s called Mad MAX!”, they whined. “It’s a film for men!” they protested. They asked Tom Hardy how he possibly managed to take the indignity of having less lines than a WOMAN – and thankfully he told them to go screw themselves.

But Fury Road was just as packed with cars, violence and masculinity as any of the others; arguably even more so. The film is one long chase scene and it’s dripping with even more post-apocalyptic scenery. The only difference is that instead of lumping Max with an ineffectual babe (looking at you, Jessie), he was matched with someone as strong and capable as himself.

While not addressed in the film, Furiosa is also a remarkable character from a disability standpoint – the fact that her bionic arm doesn’t have to be examined and explained, and that it doesn’t hinder her in any way, is an incredible shift from representations of disability we usually see in movies.

Fury Road wasn’t a chick flick. The presence of women – particularly Furiosa, who is a stone cold badass – didn’t make it less of an adventure. Max is a famously terse character, so the filmmakers can’t be accused of silencing his very important manly voice – but it’s Furiosa who saves the Five Wives, and is ultimately the hero.

 

Tiffany Aching

Tiffany didn’t make her first appearance this year, but her last.

Released posthumously, Terry Pratchett’s final book The Shepherd’s Crown featured heavily one of the most enthralling young women on the Disc. From her first appearance in The Wee Free Men, aged just nine years old and already smarter and more capable than most of us, she’s grown into a strong proto-Witch.

Like all of the Witches, Tiffany has the gift of First Sight, the ability to see what truly is – a talent I think more of us wish we had, sometimes. She’s fierce and competent, taking down monsters with ease, even for a brother she doesn’t particularly care for.

She also has Second Thoughts, Third Thoughts and Fourth Thoughts, making her a relatable character to anyone who is naturally self-critical. She’s self-educated, incredibly loyal to her home and family, and makes fantastic cheese. What’s not to like?

 

Kimmy Schmidt

Tina Fey’s spiritual follow-up to 30 Rock began early last year with season one of The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt – an unlikely female-lead story that ought to be too tragic to laugh at, but isn’t.

In a twist on the trope of a young woman coming to New York for her big break, Kimmy comes out of an underground bunker and, finding the fame too much to bear, moves to New York in an attempt to be lost again.

Kimmy’s a fantastic character because she’s strong – not in the way that Furiosa or Jessica Jones are strong, but strong because she can still find joy in a world that abandoned her for fifteen years, and now she’s returned, only wants her to be one thing.

Her character and background is far too complex to go into  in just a few paragraphs, but we fell in love with Kimmy because she’s adorable, strong, funny, tragic, and beautiful in a way she doesn’t realise (if she did realise it, we probably wouldn’t like her so much). Her fascinating story could be a compelling drama, but with one of the funniest women around writing it, it’s fantastically, darkly entertaining.

 

Jessica Jones

For all those people out there who are sick of seeing female superheroes as nothing more than boobs-and-butts, this is the show you need to watch.

Quite possibly the first Marvel production to feature a woman as the main and titular character, Jessica Jones is like the darker side of Daredevil – and far more twisted than it could ever be.

The fact that the main character is a woman allows for discourse around some interesting subjects, such as rape and domestic abuse. We can see these through Jessica’s life experiences and from the people she gets to know, who are frequently women.

Don’t go thinking this is a full-on man-hating extravaganza though. David Tenant is masterful in his portrayal of the villain Kilgrave, and while the sound of his voice will give you shivers he’s actually revealed to be more complex than just evil, at one point almost pitiable.

Jessica’s sidekick is the incredible Luke Cage, and it was so refreshing to see a twist on the archetype of the male superhero with his arm candy – instead Luke was shown in the light of the Female Gaze, with his body taking on the role of sexual object, while still presenting a complex and interesting character.

Rather than trying to present Jessica Jones in the way that most Marvel productions show their women – scolding, sexual characters that disrupt the flow of humour – they went full DC, tying great depths of psychological intrigue with stunning fight scenes and well-rounded characters.

 

 

Penny Rolle

A minor cheat, as the first issue of Bitch Planet was released in December 2014, but here we go.

Bitch Planet as a comic was always going to draw in feminists. The premise presents the extremes of a misogynistic society, where the slightest transgression on the part of a woman – which could be being too fat, disagreeing with a man, not wanting to have sex, or wanting too much sex – warrants harsh punishment. They are sent away to an off-world prison, where they are allowed to be as vicious to each other as they like – after all, no one’s going to mourn one more disobedient woman.

There are a few great female characters in here, but a special shout-out has to go to Penny Rolle, one of the inmates. Not just a woman but a woman-of-colour, and of significant size, it’s obvious why she would be a target in this kind of society.

From having the wrong type of hair (an aesthetic offence), to fighting men when they insult her (assault) and being overweight (wanton obesity), she’s had a hard time since she was a little girl.

For those of us who know what it’s like not to be the ideal woman (okay, so that’s most of us) we can understand Penny’s anger at the world – like everything else in the comic, it’s just an exaggeration of the frustration we women often feel at the way we’re treated by men, and even by other women.

penny

There’s something more that makes Penny stand out from all of the other inmates of Bitch Planet though: self-love, of the type we should all aspire to. She knows that she’s large, that her hair doesn’t behave, that she has a bit of an anger problem, but even in a world where she’s told repeatedly to be ashamed of herself, she isn’t.

In one issue, the men who run Bitch Planet put Penny in front of a mirror which is hooked up to her brain – it’s supposed to show what the woman feels her ideal form is, and of course it usually shows what that woman has been told is ideal by men. Penny though? She sees herself just as she is.

It’s hard enough in reality for us to be okay with who we are. In this fictional society where women are subject to constant scrutiny, and suffer from extreme consequences if they’re found lacking, it’s even more admirable.

It’s possible that we should all be a bit more like Penny Rolle.

 

Gone are the days when women were only background characters in comics, only eye-candy in action movies and helpless damsels to be saved. We’re entering an incredible new era where women don’t have to be defined by their gender but by the strength of their character – at least in fiction. We’re seeing more and more strong women in media, and hopefully that’s encouraging all of us to be strong too.

Whether you’re fucked up like Jessica, proud like Penny, lost like Kimmy or driven like Furiosa (see what I did there?) you’ve got a powerful figure to aspire to. Who is your inspiration?

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A Safe Place

A Safe Place

Another writing prompt from Death To Stock Photo and like the other, is entirely fictional

My safe place was always in other peoples’ lives. Especially my sister.

Pretending to be her was my fall-back when I started feeling scared. She was prettier than me, smarter than me, thinner than me, but most people didn’t know that. When someone wanted to know who the fuck I was, I said Sarah.

Sarah was an interior decorator — that seemed cooler than the accountant that my sister actually was. She didn’t have a boyfriend, but she had many lovers from around the world. She lived a cosmopolitan life in London, critically examining the art in galleries and meeting interesting people.

It was easy to slip into her skin. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know who she’d talked to last week, or what exactly she did for a living, because Sarah didn’t need to explain herself to anyone. She was beyond questioning; don’t even bother.

When someone tried to confront me about something — “Hey, you’re that weird girl I went to school with!” — I’d say no, I’m Sarah. I have no idea who you’re talking about. Insist it enough, and no matter how sure they were, I could throw them off.

When being me gets too much I just become someone else. My safe place is anywhere but in my own head.

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The Windshield

The Windshield

Death To Stock Photo are running a series of writing prompts at the moment. This one was “the windshield” and came with this picture. This is what my weird brain came up with.

windshield2

10.
She was my second love, after scotch. When you’re alone so long you get used to it; eventually you forget what you’re supposed to be missing out on. You adapt. Learn to thrive. Learn to wear your lonliness like a scarf. Whisky helps.

9.
My first girlfriend Holly was a real bitch. I know how that sounds, but there wasn’t a single person who knew her that wouldn’t say the same. I don’t think I’d have stayed with her at all if she didn’t give such killer head. Must have been the constant complaining worked her face muscles, or something.

8.
The car was bought years back, and it was old then. Holly said it was a hunk of junk, and I coudn’t disagree; the blue paint had half peeled away to show rust, and it couldn’t start uphill, but I’d always wanted a VW. I called it Betty, after my mum. That wasn’t fair of me, really.

7.
Nina was different. It was her idea to hang all that crap off the rear view mirror. “I’m just putting a little jewellery on poor Betty,” she said. I didn’t tell her that my mother would never have worn beads. It didn’t matter.

I kept meaning to take them down but I guess I never did.

6.
I crashed my first car the day I passed my driving test. Chalk it up to youthful arrogance — I was still buzzing from the high of passing, the first test I’d ever felt confident going into. It wasn’t until later, when I’d picked up my shitty “new” car and called on my friends that things went wrong. I told the police that I hadn’t been drinking, which wasn’t strictly true. They told me we were lucky to be alive. The car was totalled.

5.
We were fighting, as usual, and drinking. Not the best combination when you’re manouvering a rickety hunk of junk like Betty. I was always drunk those days, and had learned how to act like I wasn’t. I could even say the alphabet backwards, just in case I had to. I was just drunk enough to feel in control, and just too drunk not to be.

4.
When I took my my driving test, I kept thinking back to what my best friend Dougie had told me in school; how a friend of a friend’s uncle had been in the passenger seat when the air bag deployed without warning and killed him. It wasn’t that I believed him, but I could always imagine that I was that friend of a friend’s relative: I could picture my mum telling people how I’d died in a freak accident, and how my death should serve as a warning.

The first time I crashed a car the airbag broke my nose, but saved my life.

3.
I just wanted her to shut the fuck up. I wanted Nina and her eccentricites, Holly and her mouth. I wanted to erase the last three years of my life. I don’t think I realised then how much I loved her. She let me need her, and I did; I don’t know if I can forgive her for that.

2.
The way I remember it, I heard the glass smashing before anything else. I don’t think I even saw her move but to an alcoholic, the sound of a bottle smashing will always command attention. My scotch had spilled out onto the road and lay there glittering.

Fuck, I thought. That’s forty quid down the drain.

1.
Nina once told me that she hated me. She took it back later, but it’s not the kind of thing you can just forget; as much as I tried I just couldn’t stop hearing it.

She’d gone through the windshield like paper, still holding onto my bottle. One of her shoes had gotten caught up in Betty’s beads.

She was my second love, after scotch.

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The Grandfather – Preview

The Grandfather – Preview

1If you’ve read my review of The Lady, you’ll know that I’m a fan of the strange and disturbing work of Michael Patrick Rogers. Luckily for me – and anyone else who enjoys creepy point-and-click games with excellent artwork – his next project has just hit Indiegogo!

This time around, MPR has teamed up with David Szymanski of Fingerbones and comic book artist Stanislav Yakimov to create this simple yet challenging game which manages to feel like a comic book. Each level is introduced by some background information about the titular character The Grandfather, an old man sleeping alone while his cold, unloving wife ignores him in the adjoining bed. He’s an obviously sympathetic character – who of us hasn’t feared that we would end up like that, stuck in not just a loveless marriage but one without the slightest bit of compassion. In fact, one of my favourite songs is about that very idea.

These scenes of his life are shown in a wonderful comic book style that will feel instantly recognisable for any regular reader of comics. But even for those who aren’t fans of the style, the simplicity of the panels and the fact that there are no speech bubbles takes away what many find hardest about reading comics; taking in the words at the same time as the images. Instead a voice-over provides us with his sad story.

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Much of the imagery is to do with death and rebirth, often at the same time. This serves to give the character of the grandfather this curiously childlike demeanour, reacting to his wife’s rejection in the way a child might when pushed from their parents’ room after a nightmare. Just because he’s old doesn’t mean he knows any more than we do, especially about dealing with the unpleasantness of life.

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The music seems to be a huge part of the story, just as it was in The Lady. The ambient yet sometimes discordant noises are built up by the player throughout the game, giving each game its own individual soundtrack. I imagine mine sounded like the panicked clicking of my mouse over and over.

Although I’ve only played the demo so far, it seems quite similar in game play to The Lady – albeit easier (again, so far). As is usual for MPR, he makes no effort to explain how to play the game or what your objective is, and it can be bewildering trying to work it out (and often results in the mashing of keys and buttons). You’re simply dumped into an unknown room, tasked with progressing…but how? That’s up to you to find out.

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It’s always hard to tell how indicative a demo will be of the final piece, and there are certainly one or two technical issues to sort out. But if the artwork, the pacing, the playing and the music stay pretty much the same, I think we’ll be on to a winner with The Grandfather. If you’d like to donate toward the making of the game please head to this location.

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An Explanation For My Absence

An Explanation For My Absence

So, this is going to be difficult. I don’t like talking about myself, especially in any kind of public way, but I felt that my lengthy absence from writing warranted some form of explanation – even if just to myself. The truth is that I’ve been having a slight crisis of confidence when it comes to putting my work out there. It’s not even about the quality, but more the insignificance of it all.

Now that my work is mostly writing and promoting blogs, it’s hard to ignore the fact that my voice is one of so many, very few of whom are really contributing anything. How could I possibly provide any kind of new insight or angle when thousands of other people are discussing the same thing? What is my USP? What can I offer anyone who reads this website that has any value, or makes any impression? I’m increasingly unsure of the answer to these questions.

But it isn’t just laziness and self-doubt. I’ve been having problems for some time now with my hands and arms; it’s been difficult to talk about, in part because of my distaste of writing about myself but also because it’s difficult to discuss something without a name. For some time I was misdiagnosed with carpal tunnel syndrome, a common affliction in writers and computer workers. It seemed likely given the growing pain in my left wrist and fingers, but when the steroid injection failed to work and the pain spread to my other hand, carpal tunnel became much less likely.

After months of hospital visits where physiotherapists well-meaningly manipulated my back to see if anything happened – it didn’t – I was given sleeping splints, working splints, elbow splints and hand paddles, and nothing seemed to be working. Now, nearly a year after the symptoms first began I still don’t know what’s wrong with me and am currently waiting on a consultant’s appointment to have nerve conductive tests.

The point of all of this is that between working a (nearly) full time job at a computer for eight and a half hours a day, I tend to come home with aching from my fingers up to my elbow or even shoulder, which doesn’t make me feel particularly inclined to do more writing.

I don’t want to make any kind of promises about getting writing done on time – it’s worked amazingly for my friend Charlie and his Terror Tuesday blog, who’s done an incredible job of getting an article out every week for over a year now. I just don’t feel that, given how unpredictable the pain in my arms can be, that I can commit to anything other than my job. Which I love, by the way.

I’m going to try though. Not writing a comic review since last October is pretty shameful, and at some point I have grand plans to redo the website but that will probably require an intensive weekend of work. I want to keep writing for myself because as much as I enjoy it, I can’t only be my job. I need something that’s just mine.

Works I’ve written for other websites and zines are still waiting to go out, so there will eventually be some form of update from them, and I’m always looking for some exciting new work to do (hint hint). Until then, I’m going to do what I can, and try not to lose something I love doing – writing meaningless reviews for a handful of readers, expecting nothing but an outlet for my thoughts. To that handful, thank you for making this a worthwhile endeavour.

 

Post script: Hehe this is my 69th post. I am mature.

Posted by jenny in Miscellaneous, 0 comments
The Lady

The Lady

I reviewed The Lady earlier this year for a publication it was rejected from. Luckily, one of the creators of the game was pleased by it and posted it on his site, MPR Art, where he has updates on all the interesting things he’s working on.

In celebration of the game’s much-overdue release on Steam this January 29th, I have chosen to share the piece with all of you! And whether you play this particular game or not, please support indie game developers.

I am lost. I don’t know which way to go, nor can I be sure where I came from. I feel like no matter how hard I try to progress, I’m holding myself back – I am my own worst enemy. I am The Lady.

The Lady is an emotionally provocative yet wordless journey into the mind of a person suffering from depression. The game plays as a simple 2D side-scroller, taking inspiration from classic video games, including their incredibly steep learning curves. The Lady isn’t impossible, but it takes a lot to stick with a game when there is no indication whatsoever what you need to do to progress. What helps in one level can kill you in another; you’re constantly adapting your methods, only occasionally repeating simple motions in order to get by.

thelady

Unlike the text-based game Depression Quest, The Lady doesn’t spell anything out for you. It doesn’t aim to tell you how she feels, but instead show you and make you feel it too. The frustration of the brutally difficult learning curve combined with no ability to save or go back – you mess up three times, you start from square one – is of course a throwback to the time before games had manuals or memory to save, but it also brings up a lot of the feelings of depression in the player. After a while, you begin to feel like this whole thing is futile, and when the helplessness builds you want nothing more than to click the “Fuck it, I can’t go on like this..” option.

Depression Quest is probably one of the most famous of games to deal with depression in a realistic, everyday way. The static of the background makes you feel the numbness that often accompanies depression, and the writing is slow and paced – anything too energetic wouldn’t work. It elegantly presents the idea that certain choices aren’t yours to make, such as “just getting over it” – these are crossed out to show that this is an impossible decision for someone with serious depression to just make. As the player, you make decisions about whether to ask for help or take antidepressants, and as such it is probably an invaluable game for anyone trying to understand depression, either their own or others’.

thelady2

The Lady, on the other hand, throws you in the deep end without context or a safety net. There’s absolutely no understanding, no helping hand, no closure. The world is just a terrifying place and you don’t know why. In terms of artwork, it has the same feel as body horror movies, and the Lady herself is a monstrous exaggeration of an emaciated, scarred rag doll with no arms. She drags herself around, either blind to the world or with huge bloodshot eyes bulging in horror at what she sees – which, nine times out of ten, is herself.

In The Lady, you don’t fight against an external figure other than yourself. To get anywhere you have to smash projections of your own self in various forms, before they come to you; it’s a great way to show an all-encompassing self-hatred, and the negative spiral depression leads to wherein you’re depressed because you’re depressed. It also reinforced for me the idea that when you have depression, you can be your own worst enemy.

I’m armless, useless, impotent. Moving is like wading through molasses. I can’t scream for help, and I don’t think anyone could save me anyway. I know this is something I need to do myself, but I just don’t know how. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

Like Alice going down the rabbit hole, you can’t be sure what is real in this game and what is not. Seemingly endless mazes can keep you occupied for hours if you don’t know where to leave. Sometimes, seemingly without reason, you’re plunged into near-darkness and have to grope your way through broken glass and your own fears to get anywhere. But I understand The Lady, I found myself thinking. If things had gone differently, this could have been me.

thelady3

Short puzzle-based games have been shown to improve the player’s mood, reduce their anxiety and promote relaxation; this is why casual games like Angry Birds and Bejewelled are so successful. The Lady does the exact opposite by withdrawing any kind of reward, cheats or easy progress from the player, but instead forces then to use an important part of any serious gamer’s arsenal – reappraisal. This skill helps with problem solving, acceptance and willingness to change tact entirely, and this ability to re-assess is both useful in everyday scenarios and in dealing with symptoms of depression.

Don’t play this game expecting closure or even a sense of relief at the end. The whole thing was created as an artistic exercise when artist and video game designer Michael Patrick Rogers developed anxiety and depression, and did as so many of us do – lost interest in everything he’d enjoyed. By creating an artistic journey through the haunted house ride that is a panic attack, he hoped to express the feelings of intense fear, helplessness and anxiety that are impossible to describe to anyone who hasn’t had one.

The Lady could be considered more of an interactive art piece with a jaw-grinding soundtrack than a traditional puzzle and reward computer game. But like any challenging game, it forces you to think in creatively – despite the oppressive atmosphere – and come out the other side against all odds.

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Experiment #1

I’ve had a real urge to do some creative writing recently, but I’m terrible at coming up with original ideas, so this is just a little experiment in writing very short pieces of mostly descriptive fiction.

If you have an idea for a story you want brought to life and think this is alright, email me at jenny.mugridge@gmail.com with your idea.

~~~

His hands trembling, he raised his pen – that very fountain pen he had so desperately coveted from his mother’s desk, but that now filled him with regret and longing – and dipped it into the inkwell, taking care to remove any excess ink from the nib. He wouldn’t want to get this wrong; he only had one chance. The pen tip descended onto the page and he stroked it across as evenly as he could, controlling his tremor through a sheer force of will which had always failed him in past attempts. The ink sank into the paper and the words that had consumed his thoughts for so long finally became real, became tangible.

A slow smile began to take shape on this face that had expressed only pain and guilt for so long – it was a foreign experience to him, and oddly fitting. She had always said he had a lovely smile.

Content with his work he meticulously placed the pen’s cap back on, listening for the click to prove that this was the end of the matter; no more words would come from here, not any time soon anyway. He sealed shut the inkwell, closed the leather bureau – you know you’re not allowed in my study, you knew what would happen – and left, feeling immediately more like himself.

His smile faded. He had left his confession and now there was nothing left to do; he found himself feeling both liberated and suffocated by the knowledge that it was over. Too late to back out now. He was already a dead man.

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My Dish With Catherine D’Lish

My Dish With Catherine D’Lish

catherine-lish-catherine-lish-img
We were lucky enough to catch some time with Catherine D’Lish, the “striptease virtuoso”, to talk about costume making and designing, her favourite materials and her and Dita Von Teese’s newest show, “Strip Strip Hooray”. Ms D’Lish has won a plethora of awards including Miss Erotic World and Showgirl of the Year, and features in the Burlesque Hall of Fame, as well as being a burlesque costume designer and the creative designer behind the infamous giant champagne bubble bath routine.
Originally posted on Cut Out + Keep’s Snippets, reposted here with thanks to Cat and Tom.
You’ve made costumes for Dita von Teese and Christina Aguilera as well as yourself. Is there much of a collaborative process?
I generally work best when left to my own devices. Most of my custom pieces for people are based on a collection of very vague adjectives, like “pink” or “fluffy”. For Christina, she wanted a red crystal ringmaster’s look built upon a corset, and I took it from there. Dita and I are best friends and we can yak for hours about costumes and that sort of thing… we share a love for extravagance that is part of the bond between us. I have a huge appreciation for the trust Dita has in me, she’ll set me free to build something that she will enjoy wearing.
Is there anyone you would particularly like to create a costume for?
Ha- that’s easy! Definitely me.
How do you find inspiration for new costume ideas?
I find motivation for new pieces in the elements that I choose to build them with. I like the excitement that comes with finding a fabric, feather or crystal type that appeals to me. Once I start to see and gather the components that turn me on, it’s very easy to start making something with them.
How important are props to a good burlesque show?
I’ve seen great shows with props, and equally great performances without props. I believe that an entertaining act has more to do with what the performer does on stage than the presence of props or accessories.
You’ve said that every costume you make has to top the last – is that getting harder and harder?
I don’t think so… I always enjoy a costume challenge, and I learn more and more as I go along, so hopefully (fingers crossed!) my work will continue to improve.
What was the first piece of costume that you made for a show?
I first started making costumes when I began stripping at a strip club. I don’t remember what the first one was, there were so many! Not all great, and god willing, nobody will ever see them again.
Were you brought up sewing and crafting or is it something you taught yourself as you grew up?
Sewing and crafting were something that I taught myself while I was growing up in the strip club. I just bought some scissors, a machine, and started going at it.
You’ve mentioned before that you work mainly from home. Is that still true?
Absolutely still true. I can’t imagine doing it any other way! I like to roll out of bed and into work, and when I’m done for the day, I want to roll right back into that bed. I like making every day “wear your pajamas to work day.”

What are some of your favourite materials to work with?
Hands down, Swarovski crystal gets me the most fired up. I could never tire of it. I also love working with feathers, and enjoy my relationship with Jason, the owner of Fabulous Feathers. He sources incredible products for me, and I appreciate that he will find and sell to me anything I ask for. He is my feather pusher, and I’m a feather junkie.
Is there a fashion designer you are a particular fan of?
There are many designers with work that I like very much- Dior, Mugler, Head, Galliano… I could go on and on, there’s no shortage of beauty in the fashion world, both past and present!
Do you have any shows coming up soon, that either you or your costumes are featured in?
“Strip Strip Hooray” is touring more this year, I perform in that show, and Dita wears three costumes I’ve done for her (Cowgirl, Powder Puff and Opium Den). Also I’m touring Europe this Spring and Autumn/Winter. More scattered shows in the US in between, hoping to get a couple new costumes for myself completed this year… lots to do… lots to do…
Posted by jenny in Crafting, Miscellaneous, 0 comments
Boy Meets Grrrl

Boy Meets Grrrl

Boy Meets Grrrl: A Gendered Approach to the Industry and Culture of Video and Computer Games.
– The Article Edition

In 1966, Ralph Baer created the first video game console to be used as a military training tool. It was designed to be used with a normal television and therefore portable – although at the time “lightweight” meant just under eighty pounds. The simple ball-and-paddle game he created to teach strategy and reflex skills to soldiers was inspiration for Pong which came out six years later in arcade form. At the beginning of the arcade game period, games had an incredibly steep learning curve and were havens for competitive young boys – girls were often confined to the supportive roles of mother or girlfriend.

Although the military had not been interested in producing consoles commercially, Ralph Baer was the first to design a home console system, The Odyssey, in 1972. It could be used with any TV, played multiple games and had graphic overlays to keep the cost of production down. Perhaps the most famous game on this console was Pong (1975) and video games began to become commercially successful; for two years that is, until an unexpected crash in the market due to the amount of Pong rip-offs being distributed. In 1978, Space Invaders was released and along with Asteroids in 1979 managed to sell so well that arcades were popping up all over the place, in shopping centres and convenience stores. Games at this time had incredibly simple graphics, meaning gender wasn’t really a problem in the characters, but as graphics improved and sales declined once again, the industry decided to close in on their target group of young boys, and games became more distinctly masculine, whether it was Frogger (1981) carrying the pink frog across to safety, or Pauline shouting to her hero Jumpman in Donkey Kong (1984).

“Research suggests that females of all ages are disadvantaged in their leisure choices and activities by constraints such as time, income, class, marital and parental status, and by the way in which gender influences access to, and participation in, leisure spaces and activities” J. Bryce, The Gendering of Computer Gaming

The first game to offer a choice of gender was the 1986 Leather Goddesses of Phobos, but in the 1992 Ultima VII Part Two the player could choose both gender and race, and all of the character bodies had been modelled on real athletes. Even more surprising, the female characters weren’t dressed in barely-concealing armour but shared the same armour as their male counterparts, only shaped to their bodies.

During the 1990s, video game companies finally became aware of the market they were ignoring – girls and women. Not knowing how to do this, they pursued the idea of “productivity” games for girls, normally on skills such as housekeeping and typing, and unsuprisingly felt that computers were just educational instruments for them, not toys for fun. The release of the Gameboy in 1989 took gaming mobile and Pokemon Red and Blue, which were released in 1996, were hugely sucessful at attracting girls without discouraging the existing male audience. The Pokemon games were fairly simple to begin with and encouraged sociability in gaming with the use of the data link cable. Since then, Nintendo have largely dominated the family market with their simple, colourful or white devices which are much less overtly masculine than the industrial, black design of the Playstation.

In 2006, the fictional character Lara Croft won the Guinness World Record for “Most Successful Human Video Game Heroine”, but is she a tough and sexy inspiration or a transgressive female for the masculine player to use and to view? Lara’s attributes originally included cooking and a degree in needlework (is that even a real thing?), and as the graphics became more realistic her more physical attributes had to be reduced due to fear that she would become “too sexy”.

By the mid-1990s, 90% of American boys were playing video games, and the companies turned once again to the issue of girl gaming; however, they were unwilling to invest any serious amount of money, meaning that most games designed for girls were either poorly made, poorly advertised or both. As third-wave feminism took off in the early 90s, it was becoming noticeable that there were far fewer women in maths, science or technology jobs than men, simply because girls had less interactions with the machines, and weren’t encouraged to see them as sources of creativity and fun. When consoles were still prevalent, playing games meant having to buy the console and then each individual game, but as PCs became more common in the household it was possible to buy just one game to play without any special equipment, making the investment much less, and unlike console games, PC games were made by a wide variety of companies, allowing for more diversity in the games available. But this wasn’t just a feminism thing – it was about increasing the freedom of video game subjects from just saving the damsel in distress.

Patricia Flanagan created Her Interactive in 1995, a company which aimed to make games for girls based on qualitative data instead of statistics, but she found herself continuously turned away from publishers and forced to self-publish. McKenzie and Co, their first title, sold relatively well, although it didn’t do much for feminine stereotypes, having a huge focus on shopping, makeup and getting dates. Barbie Fashion Designer (1997) sold 600,000 units in its first year on the shelves, proving there was money to be made; although it became pretty clear that the high sales were directly linked to the brand name Barbie as opposed to the game itself. The Girls Games experiment was considered a failure, and proof that girls just didn’t want to play games. Of course, this is entirely reductive thinking, as the video game companies had assumed that girls were the opposite of boys – by focussing on differences in gender and seeing them as binary opposites, they neglected to explore the similarities and complexities of gender. During this time, girls games were split into “pink” games, which supported traditional feminine ideals, and “purple” games which contained practical – although distinctly female – scenarios. In “purple” games girls were often encouraged to be themselves and not to lie or manipulate.

There are certain things statistics show that females are more likely to want out of games. Mutually beneficial solutions, socially significant situations, complex stories, indirect competition, flexibility and customisation and puzzles make this list among others. Physiologically speaking, emotional and tactile stimulation is more likely to arouse a response in women than the visual gore or shock which promotes increased heart rate, perspiration and respiration in men; because of this, prolonged gore or violence may not be offensive to a girl, but it may be incredibly boring. Having a choice of characters is generally speaking important, for both male and female players to engage with, and whereas traditionally masculine sensibilities aim to overcome technology, feminine sensibilities seek to work collaboratively with the machine. Zero-sum games, in which one player outright wins and another outright loses, are generally disliked by females; although this shouldn’t be taken to mean that competition can’t be enjoyed by everyone.

“I don’t want to be friends! I want to be king! That’s right, King, Hail to the King, baby! I want all the best stuff and I want it all for me and I will knock the hell out of anyone who tries to take a piece of my action. Not very community driven and collaborative, am I?” Nikki Douglas, Girls and Gaming

In more recent years, creation or sandbox games such as Little Big Planet have become more popular with men and women due to the high level of customisability and range of gameplay. The Sims, released in 2000, had a player base that was forty to fifty percent female, and a design team which was split equally between men and women. The Sims wasn’t advertised as a girl’s game but stayed successfully gender neutral thanks to the fan culture surrounding it which constantly created new, personalised people and furniture. I remember using my first ever Cheat while playing The Sims.

Nowadays, women make up 70% of the casual games market but are still largely excluded from the realm of “serious” gaming. MMORPGs (Massive Multi-player Online Role-Playing Games) are becoming more and more popular with feminine players thanks to their social involvement; studies showed that female players were much more likely than male players to dream about the game or create lasting relationships with other players. The rise in girl gaming groups in both MMORPGs and more overtly masculine games such as the Call of Duty series has shown that it isn’t the technology the girls are unable to overcome, but the culture which surrounds it. While things are improving, the console gaming culture can still be very alienating to women.

The website “Fat, Ugly or Slutty” demonstrates this by allowing gamers to post examples of sexist comments which range from asking for naked pictures to threatening to rip a female player’s ovaries out. Although gaming can be a competetive past-time with insults being order of the day, most insults toward women are directed at their gender. Reactions to the website showed that many male players simply had no idea the abuse could be so bad, and women who didn’t play games were stunned to find that the conversation they thought had been taking place for years had only just begun.

“We are angry at a society that tells us Girl = Dumb, Girl = Bad, Girl = Weak” The Riot Grrrl Manifesto

Of course, there have always been women who put up a resistance to the culture which others them. Brenda Laurel of Purple Moon distinctly remembers a period in which girls got into Pinball in order to mark some territory within the male-dominated arcades. Rhoulette, a member of the Frag Dolls, is even encouraged by the negative and derogatory comments to try harder. The concept that women are mild-mannered and non-confrontational is resisted by many female players who enjoy the opportunity, in some games, to express a masculine side without losing the right to their real-life femininity, and it works the same with men, giving them the chance to play as a female character or with women without being emasculated. On the other hand, some women prefer to bring femininity to the game and make a point of it – although these women are often accused of not being serious gamers but just attention seekers.

ESA’s Essential Facts about the Computer and Video Game Industry (2008) was already showing that 40% of gamers were female, with the number increasing to 44% for online games, and by the time the 2012 Essential Facts was released the number had moved up to 47% with women over the age of eighteen becoming the fastest-growing demographic and outnumbering boys under the age of seventeen. As video games have become mainstream entertainment and women are experimenting with new ways to define themselves within the culture, it has become less alienating to them. They are now a strong customer base and despite the misogyny which still occurs, women are more common in the gaming community than ever, making it clear that the issue is one of visibility, encouragement from a young age to interact with machinery, and a more accepting video game culture.

 

 

This is the article version of my dissertation. This version was first published on Neutral 2013

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Rebel Girls and Runaways

Rebel Girls and Runaways

Riot Grrrl was the movement I always wish I’d got to experience first hand. It was a huge movement in the ’90s and although there are many versions of how the movement started, most people would agree that the band attributed with starting up Riot Grrrl was Bikini Kill. Starting out with a free zine with the same name, they later became a band and were into creating more female-focussed gigs by encouraging the boys who wanted to mosh and dance violently to head to the back, while the girls could enjoy the music at the front if they wanted. As with any feminist movement, they were labelled sexist towards men, but that wasn’t what it was about – it was about trying to do something that women could enjoy just as much as men.

The zines carried on from the punk ethos of the ’70s and the college idea of freedom of speech. Cutting and pasting together pieces of photos and literature was the original form of what we now have in many online zines – but before the internet was really used, it was important to have something that could be reproduced, photocopied and passed around to get the message out. It was never about making money but about spreading the word, and helping girls to come together. And also, importantly, about advertising girl punk rock bands, which were hardly seen in major music magazines – and if they were, were normally insulted or at best, classed as “good for girls.”

“We want and need to encourage and be encouraged in the face of all our own insecurities, in the face of beergutboyrock that tells us we can’t play our instruments, in the face of “authorities” who say our bands/zines/etc are the worst in the US” The Riot Grrrl Manifesto

The bands grouped together, and there seemed to be much less of the competition between bands than often happens now, because they were all fighting for the same cause. They wanted to talk about the issues that women go through but were never allowed to talk about; like childhood abuse, rape, abortions and equal pay issues. They could talk about lesbianism, but in a way that wasn’t designed to just attract men – real love between two women, which was either unspoken or still considered “just a phase.”

Riot Grrrl has taken on many forms, and although it is largely associated with punk rock music, anyone who believes in the Riot Grrrl manifesto could be one, whether they realise it or not. Singers like Beth Ditto have come out as saying they support the movement – Ditto said that Riot Grrrl helped her to become a whole person. Other contemporay artists and bands which seem to fit into the movement include Amanda Palmer, PJ Harvey, Regina Spektor and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Not many people would come out as saying they’re Riot Grrrl – any more than people tend to announce that they’re feminist. It’s not about declaring it as a publicity stunt, it’s about being it and getting across the ideas in your music.

Seeing girls in the rock business doesn’t happen all that often, even now – of course they exist, but usually as lead singers or bassists. These are seen as the “acceptable” places for women to have power, but the drums and electric guitars – the instruments that are seen to be gritty and difficult – are reserved for the men. The movement also revolutionised the idea of a female musician who didn’t have to be beautiful or thin, just talented. Even now in the rock industry there are so few female musicians who are not conventionally attractive, when in history male singers such as Steve Tyler, Axl Rose and Sting were seen as sex icons despite not being commonly accepted as attractive. In many metal bands, the attractiveness of a male lead singer means nothing, but Christina Scabbia of Lacuna Coil will be criticised if she puts on a little weight or takes an unflattering photo.

“You learn that the only way to get rock-star power as a girl is to be a groupie and bare your breasts and get chosen for the night. We learn that the only way to get anywhere is through men. And it’s a lie.” Kathleen Hanna, Bikini Kill

I think one of the greatest parts of the movement was the girls’ acceptance of what people thought of them – they said “I know you think I’m a bitch, so I’m going to write it on my arm,” and often wrote conflicting messages on their arms, such as the famous picture of the band Huggy Bear in which lead singer Niki Elliot has written “Slut” on one arm, and “Prophet” on the other. Other than that, there was no distinctive style for Riot Grrrl – no way to dress like one – which meant it couldn’t be corrupted by capitalism as easily as, say, Punk culture.

Riot Grrrl brought feminism into the public eye in a way that was less academic and less structured – instead of only finding a voice in studying feminism as a subject, or by participating in marches, girls were able to kick and scream about what really mattered to them. It gave girls – normal girls – a voice, and that voice wasn’t what a lot of people wanted to hear.

A re-emergence seems to be happening now – the DIY ethic that Riot Grrrl helped bring back with third-wave feminism has stuck longer than anyone had predicted, and with films like Whip It!, we get to see natural women a little easier than before. So for all of those who thought that Riot Grrrl was just a phase, just some angry girls kicking off – you were very much mistaken.

Posted both in Snippets #19 and on Neutral 2013

Posted by jenny in Crafting, Miscellaneous, Music, 0 comments
Mrs Samsa

Mrs Samsa

I wrote this piece in my first year of university for a Creative Writing module. I’ve long loved Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis and through a curiosity to hear the untold stories, I focussed on Gregor Samsa’s mother who has a handful of lines but is full of the conflict of maternal love versus the human revulsion to insects.

I chose the medium of a diary entry with haikus for each appearance Mrs Samsa makes in the book. As she has to turn to needlework to support the home, she would have increasingly little time to write a diary and would have had to hide it from her family. I liked to think of Mrs Samsa catching five minutes now and then to collect her thoughts in the rigid but simplistic form of haiku.

“When Gregor Samsa woke up one morning from unsettling dreams, he found himself changed in his bed into a monstrous vermin, a giant beetle-like insect, thus becoming an object of disgrace to his family, an outsider in his own home, and a quintessentially alienated man.” – Franz Kafka, Metamorphosis (1915)

1.

Sticky brown liquid
Little legs fly everywhere –
This is not my son.

One-part white vinegar, two-parts warm water. Blot the stain with a dampened clean towel. Remember, never rub, only blot. To remove a coffee stain from a carpet, you use hydrogen peroxide. Egg-yolk and rubbing alcohol works too, if you have nothing else. But the key is to catch it fast.

That stain distracts me, now. I feel that I could stare at it all day long.

It tortures me even now that such a disgrace of this family was made of the chief clerk. I hadn’t even had time to put my hair up, as I’ve grown used to doing. The floor a mess, just an old, effete couple.

I was going to put the washing out to dry this morning, but it was raining. It just wouldn’t stop raining. Even now, I can hear it shuffling on the windows.

2.

We sit in silence
The weight of this change, hanging
over helpless minds

Little bits of news are all we get from Grete. She tells us that he hides from her, that he eats only the rotten food. I suppose that means one less mouth needing fresh food – but where will we find the money to feed the other three?

It was announced today that we have some savings. I was surprised this had been kept from me; I understand not telling Gregor, but I had believed a marriage to be an equal partnership. At least in some ways.

It’s been decided that we will all need jobs. A year ago I would have been wild for the chance to work again; to fill my days with meaningful tasks instead of hovering about the house. But after this length of domestication, I dread the very idea of labour. I know that years of little exercise – especially since Grete became too old and independent to look after – have weakened me, left me a struggling old woman, long before my time.

3.

The tragedy is –
I can’t remember his voice.
He seems long gone now

I ask my husband if he remembers how Gregor smiled. We never thought to take pictures of him. He reminds me that Gregor wasn’t much of one to smile, anyway. I’m not sure what that means.

Only through a panicked haze did I see him after his transformation, I can barely remember. It seemed a blur of legs, a brown mess on the floor. That floor that I’d scrubbed only days before, eagerly awaiting the return of my son.

Now I have to plead to see him, like a child desperate to visit the zoo. I don’t know when I lost control, when I became so helpless. I think I know how he feels, locked in that room.

4.

Shiny red bullets.
Barely clothed, I cry and beg;
“Not my only son”

It was horrible. I don’t know whether it was trying to scare me, or trying to reach out to me. It was far worse than I’d remembered from my fleeting glance before; even so, I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It only served to make my husband more angry when he returned home; angry at Grete for giving into my whims, angry at me for not obeying his every command.

How can I tell what I’m doing, and what Grete’s doing is right, if it can’t talk to us? We are still unsure of whether it can even understand us – admittedly, no one has been tempted to spend enough time with it to work on some kind of code. Wiggle your right legs for yes, your left legs for no. I don’t think so.

5.

Just a small mercy
But his watching sickens me,
Eyes glint in the dark

We try to carry on like we can’t see it, but we know it’s there. I’m not sure which is worse – feeling it watch us, observing our every move through the door, or just knowing that it’s trapped in the next room. Its good behaviour is encouraging, we keep reminding ourselves. Maybe we finally taught it a lesson.

I don’t know whether I’d rather it understood or not. If it was just an animal, if we could say once and for all, “Gregor’s dead,” we could grieve and carry on. I had hoped it was some kind of mistake, some nightmare, maybe a punishment, but that time has passed. We all thought that perhaps we might get used to it in time; but despite the rational part of my mind telling me not to be afraid, I suffer terribly when I see it. Even Grete, who experiences it on a daily basis, is still unused to it, no matter how she pretends in front of me and her father.

6.

Who knew that kindness
Could cause my little girl such harm,
My man such anger?

I am his mother after all; shouldn’t I be looking after him? I suppose I’m out of practise. He grew up so fast. And when did Grete become a young woman? It surprises me still how the passion of a young girl can completely sway opinions; before I had been chided for not looking after him, but now he won’t let it go, how foolish I was to risk myself. All I did was clean the room; it’s still my house after all, and the dust and filth does spread.

I wonder whether I’m more at fault for trying to look after my son, or for not sticking to my needlework. After all, as was kindly pointed out, the Charwoman is here to help so that I don’t have to concern myself with such things; I can work work work all day. But, being confined to this house as I am, I need to find myself distractions; my mind was never very good at staying still for too long, and although I have always enjoyed needlework, it has become such a chore lately.

7.

They said he must go.
If only I’d stayed stronger,
Protected my child.

When I have the time to glance back over what I’ve said, I notice that I changed from saying “him” to “it.” Is that awful? Only a few months and I’ve already begun to describe my son as a monster. Tonight – for me – marked the human still inside. For the others, it only established him more firmly as a creature. I thought for a moment I could see passion and feeling in his eyes again; he’d always been fond of Grete’s playing, even if he couldn’t understand the mechanism.

The others took Gregor’s uncharacteristic boldness as a sure sign we are dealing with something that is not our son. I for one assume he’s finally taking after his mother. Grete often reminds me of when I was young – passionate, believing I was the only person in the world who was right. I’m sure she’d be terrified if I told her that, and immediately place herself in a convent to avoid becoming like me. I wouldn’t blame her.

8.

We give thanks to God,
For the death of the monster
And forget the man.

It saddens me that there won’t be a funeral for him. What we’ll tell people still has to be discussed – perhaps we say he left on business and we never heard back, now missing presumed dead. Maybe that he was struck down with a mysterious illness which left him incapacitated for several months before he finally passed away. But then, would we have to hold a sham funeral? Pretend to cry, when really we mourned for Gregor a long time ago? Even before Grete condemned him, even before my husband beat him, I distanced myself; knowing that, should Gregor come back, he would understand.

We took the day off work, and went into town for some air; all of us stretching the bodies which lay dormant for so long, and now are being used purely for work. It was enjoyable; we walked along almost in silence, but a comfortable one. For the first time since I can remember, I felt part of a family. And not just that; a family with prospects, with an old man and woman who’ve found that they’re not past it yet, and a daughter just turning into a woman. For a long time we’d depended on Gregor, allowing ourselves to stagnate rather than keep this family afloat when he would do it for us. And for that, son, I’m sorry. When he was home I’d hear him talking in his sleep; a sure sign of an unsettling dream. Perhaps no one wakes up from these dreams without changing.

metamorphosis2

Originally posted on the Neutral Magazine website

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Why I Love York

Why I Love York

First published on One&Other, available here – http://www.oneandother.com/articles/why-i-love-york-jenny-mugridge/

When I’m asked why I moved to York for university, I always say the same thing – that as soon as I stepped out of the incredible train station to see flowers and grass surrounding the ancient walls I knew. York isn’t a big party city, but coming from Bristol I appreciated how peaceful it was, and immediately felt at home. I knew this was where I was going to spend the next three years of my life.

People visit from all over the world to see York, whether it’s for the fantastic architecture – the Minster especially, the rich history from Vikings to Constantine, or simply for the huge selection of independent shops and markets – including some of the best-stocked charity shops I’ve ever seen. The city of York is like a community, we look out for each other. My family always rave about how friendly Yorkshire folk are when they come to visit, which is a fair amount – not for me, but for the city.

Other cities may have better clubs, but we have a good mix. Alternative nights at Mansion, cheap nights at chain bars like Vodka Revolution, all the way down to Willow – which, as a new student, you will become all too familiar with! And if you get bored of the many pubs (the old joke being that there’s 365, one for every day of the year), Leeds is a short train ride away and has some great pubs and clubs.

So many students in York fail to take advantage of the tourist entertainment, which is a shame. The ghost walks are top quality, as are the museum and galleries, and walking the walls is a must. Signing up for the York central library is a great idea too, as the card gives you discounted or free entry to many of the tourist attractions – the Castle Museum for example is a great way to spend a few hours.

But my favourite thing about York? Simply how beautiful it is. Whether you’re sat in Museum Gardens or watching the sun set  from the top of Clifford’s Tower, it’s a city that never fails to take my breath away, and I couldn’t imagine being as happy anywhere else. I may be a southerner, but I’m not afraid to declare that I love York – and hopefully you will too.

Posted by jenny in Miscellaneous, 0 comments

Ghost Hunt

First published in Cut Out + Keep’s Snippets – thanks to Cat and Tom for letting me post it here too! Original article – http://www.cutoutandkeep.net/snippets/issue21/ghost-hunt

 

Awarded the prestigious title of “most haunted city in England” by the GRFI (Ghost Research Foundation International), York is the perfect place to visit if you have an interest in the supernatural. It is a beautiful city, but with an unmistakable ghostly feel, perhaps due to the high number of old buildings and graves scattered everywhere about the city. Some websites place the number of ghosts at 140, with over 500 separately recorded hauntings, and with so many it’s no wonder that the several ghost walks and hunts of York – which range from traditional storytelling to shocking visuals and are able to update their talks regularly and always keep the audience enthralled.

One of the most famous stories is the tale of the Roman legion in the Treasurer’s House. In 1953, an apprentice plumber named Harry Martindale was working beneath the house on his own, when he heard the sound of a horn being blown, and before him he saw a man step out of the stone, dressed entirely in Roman attire. Behind the man came a slowly moving troupe of Roman soldiers, some on horses, that walked straight past Harry, not looking at him for a second, and through the other wall. Harry was able to describe every detail of their clothing, but what especially struck him was that he could see nothing of the soldiers from the knees down. He stood and watched in terror as they walked by him and disappeared through the opposite walk. It was only when they were all gone that he immediately ran to the doctor where he was signed off from work for “shock”, but never returned to work in the Treasurer’s House. He only talked about his experience in public twenty years later, at which time he discovered that the Roman road that had run directly through the Treasurer’s House had been lower than the current one – just about the length of a man’s lower leg.

Many of the places these ghostly happenings have taken place are off-limits to the public, meaning that unfortunately the tours must simply stand outside of certain places – but this does nothing to lessen the atmosphere. Even better are the tours in winter, when you can explore the city in the dark, and perhaps believe that the chill running up your spine is the presence of another being. Although some locations may require more imagination than others, many of the buildings have remained the same, and some of the magic of York comes from the fact that you can stand just two streets away from a main road, but somehow seem miles away from the 21st century.

Although of course, there are many other ghost experiences in York without attending a ghost walk. With over 350 pubs in York, you would expect that a few of them claim to be the “most haunted”, but they are all worth a visit. My personal favourite is the Golden Fleece, a beautiful old pub and inn, which is said to be home to at least 5 supernatural beings which haunt its’ upstairs rooms and crooked hallways. One evening out, I asked one of the bar staff if she had ever seen or heard anything, to which she replied that no, she had never seen anything for sure, but on several occasions she had misplaced things in the cellar, sure she had left items on the table only to find them gone, and never appear again – the same cellar where the bodies of hanged criminals would be kept until relatives collected them. She then laughed, and confessed that on occasion she would flick on and off the lights to frighten tourists.

As a connoisseur of ghost walks, I’ve tried out a few of them, but to anyone visiting the city of York I would recommend the Original Ghost Walk, especially on the evenings which are lead by the charming Yorkshireman Mark Graham, who uses his cane to great effect when dramatically telling stories (although any of the other gentlemen who lead the walk are fantastic!) Mark often claims that his interest in ghosts stems from his having astral dreams, and from seeing and hearing what others may call ghosts, although one of his most appealing features as a storyteller is that he never claims any stories as fact, but reminds the audience that this is only the story that has been told. The Original Ghost Walk began as a way for history teacher Jon Mitchell to engage his students in their lessons, and was turned into a professional ghost walk by Peter Broadhead in 1973, taking then ten years to transform into the established tourist attraction it is today. It remains a fantastic walk for anyone wanting to hear about the history of York and its’ buildings, as well as some interesting tales and it is left up to you whether you choose to believe or not. It is also a good one if you aren’t keen on having actors jump out at you; even though there is audience participation, Mark believes that the stories are powerful enough without having to physically frighten the audience.

Of course, if you are in it for the horror, you can try one of York’s many other ghost walks, including the The Ghost Hunt of York which provides practical jokes on the crowd as well as the audience favourite of watching the tour guide make a display of cutting through his own wrist with a knife. Many of the more theatrical ghost walks can be identified by the sight of a man in cape and top hat, also making them easy to spot on their way home if you fancy asking them a few questions, or directions to a particular ghost site. There are also many fantastic books that will provide you with places to go if you want to take an unguided ghost tour – and sometimes, the best stories are hidden in the smallest, darkest corners of the city where tours may not go.

I’ll leave you with one of the most famous stories known around York, but scarcely known elsewhere – the story of the children in Bedern. Bedern is situated just down an alleyway from a busy street in York, but once you reach the square you are shrouded in silence – a silence far too absolute to exist in a busy student city, in the middle of blocks of houses. Years ago, an orphanage was built behind the streets, which was run by a cruel man who sold the children out as labour. He soon discovered that when the children eventually died (a common event at the time, especially for the children forced to work in chimneys, but also from abuse in the home) that he would cease to receive funding from the council for their well-being. Being a greedy man, he began to hide the bodies of the children underneath the floorboards, and about the house. But the guilt devoured him, and he believed he could hear the screams of terrified children where he had kept the bodies. He eventually went truly mad and massacred the remaining children, before spending the rest of his life in an asylum where he still heard the children. To this day, visitors will hear the sounds of children playing and laughing – although it is said that if you stop to listen too long, the laughter will turn to screams of terror.

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