Jenn, I’m behind on my reading, but I’m so glad to get back to your memoir. This chapter satisfied a lot of things I’d been wondering about the nitty-gritty of what stage combat training entails. I really loved all the details and your adventures with the Band. Your discussion of performing masculinity at a time when gender options were few is fabulous - and it really conveys who you were then or were wanting to be.
My only note is that I think you start this chapter in the wrong place and from the wrong POV. I’m mentioning this because you asked for comments about shifting from the original essay about tropes to memoir mode. The long opening in which you don’t reveal your “I” doesn’t work for me. I kept wondering how you, the author, knew all this about On the Edge and the Band, while I also figured you observed it all in action (because it’s a memoir, and I already knew you’d worked at the Ren Fayre from earlier chapters). So, it’s not much of a slow reveal, and it ends up diluting your strong voice and the way you direct readers to connect the gender/theater/abuse dots throughout. Instead, I’d open with you in action, with the scene where you include dialogue lines. This chapter is all about performing action and gender, after all 😉
I’ve enjoyed reading your “One of the Guys” essays. This is such a crazy coincidence, but I worked summers at the Larkspur RenFaire ‘97-99. I worked as a caller for the big cat display. I’m sure that I saw your performances. I never had any ambition to become a performer, but I enjoyed the experience. I still love taking the family to the CO Shakespeare Festival in Boulder. What a small world!
Remember the clowns that would do parody recaps of our fight scenes? One of them would stand at the back of your audiences and shout, “it’s just animatronics!” Ha! Good times.
Yes!! I do remember those clowns. Have you been to the RenFaire recently? I haven’t visited in years and I’m curious how much (if anything) has changed.
Jenn, I’m behind on my reading, but I’m so glad to get back to your memoir. This chapter satisfied a lot of things I’d been wondering about the nitty-gritty of what stage combat training entails. I really loved all the details and your adventures with the Band. Your discussion of performing masculinity at a time when gender options were few is fabulous - and it really conveys who you were then or were wanting to be.
My only note is that I think you start this chapter in the wrong place and from the wrong POV. I’m mentioning this because you asked for comments about shifting from the original essay about tropes to memoir mode. The long opening in which you don’t reveal your “I” doesn’t work for me. I kept wondering how you, the author, knew all this about On the Edge and the Band, while I also figured you observed it all in action (because it’s a memoir, and I already knew you’d worked at the Ren Fayre from earlier chapters). So, it’s not much of a slow reveal, and it ends up diluting your strong voice and the way you direct readers to connect the gender/theater/abuse dots throughout. Instead, I’d open with you in action, with the scene where you include dialogue lines. This chapter is all about performing action and gender, after all 😉
Happy to chat more about this in a DM or offline.
Oh! I didn’t even think about that. I can totally see that. Terrific feedback, thank you!
I’ve enjoyed reading your “One of the Guys” essays. This is such a crazy coincidence, but I worked summers at the Larkspur RenFaire ‘97-99. I worked as a caller for the big cat display. I’m sure that I saw your performances. I never had any ambition to become a performer, but I enjoyed the experience. I still love taking the family to the CO Shakespeare Festival in Boulder. What a small world!
Remember the clowns that would do parody recaps of our fight scenes? One of them would stand at the back of your audiences and shout, “it’s just animatronics!” Ha! Good times.
Yes!! I do remember those clowns. Have you been to the RenFaire recently? I haven’t visited in years and I’m curious how much (if anything) has changed.
I haven’t been since I worked there, I’m afraid. Must be PTSD or something….
Oh you definitely saw me in ‘97 and ‘98 then! How funny and great!