Hello friends, and welcome to another irregular edition of Mood Music. Janelle Monae has entered regular rotation in my workout music, but she’s good any time of day for a mood boost. Franchesca Ramsey introduced me to this song in her eternally watchable Snapchat (@cheschaleigh).
So if you’re feeling down, or just need that extra kick to take over the world, please let Janelle remind you that haters gonna hate, but you need to do your thing.
I’m a sad songs junky. I think it has something to do with never having personally experienced epic love and heartbreak, but instead just a regular life of the stresses and sadness that don’t get songs. Shitty things are so easy to romanticize if you haven’t gone through them, after all. Other peoples’ (ideally, fictional peoples’) tragedies become fun to wallow in because you can leave.
So for somebody else’s sometimes melodramatic sadness, please enjoy a few of my favorites.
Lana del Rey, Dark Paradise
Honestly most of her songs creep me out and this one does too but I suspect that’s the point. Video Games is also a sad song but more for a “girl no come away from there” reason, so it didn’t make the list.
MAGICI, Rude (as covered by Kina Grannis)
Only listen to the Kina Grannis cover of this song. Hers is sweet and sad and the best version. Kina Grannis is overall a great source of sad songs, whether she means to be or not. Sorry Kina.
In which I realize while reading all the rape stories I have heard packaged in a family-friendly way to the point of not even realizing what was going on, because we are nothing if not fucked up about how we talk about rape.
In which the amazing black female producer Effie Brown (responsible for Rocket Science, one of my stealth faves) talks about what a pain in the ass it was to deal with some rich, famous whiny white guys, which is always a nightmare beyond imagining.
The ever-entertaining Stuff You Missed in History Class has been doing a great series of scary historical events in a lead up to Halloween. The one that stuck with me most, that I had somehow managed to miss despite its permeation into the pop culture ether and those “6 Famous Unsolved Mysteries” lists, etc, was the Dyatlov Pass Incident.
A common question writers get, and I myself got when I used to talk much more about writing with non-writers, was “where do you get your ideas?”
The answer is you steal them. You steal them from things that happened, you steal a piece of a person you know or saw once on the street, and you assemble all these disparate bits until there is a story that you want to tell.
Thanks to SYMiHC and an upcoming short story contest with the theme of “first contact,” I’ve found where I’ll thieve my next story from.
We consistently fail young women—all women—by tacitly relying on them to learn from each other, or from their experiences, which of the people in their communities they can and cannot trust. We ask them to police their own peers, but quietly, through back channels, without disturbing the important people while they’re talking. We wait for the victims of abuse to be the ones to take power away from their abusers, instead of working actively to ensure that these motherfuckers never get that far in the first place.