in the coldest time of year

you* remember new york city, winter 2019, as dark and cold and rancid. there is the toxic-smelling puddle you step over on the way to work every day; there is the subway (/derogatory); there is the way you can seldom find a bathroom outside the office without paying for it, and when you do, there is inevitably no hook on the door or any of the walls so you have to choose between laying your bags and heavy winter coat atop the dubiously angled dryer / sink / paper towel dispenser or going with all that in hand.

but new york city, winter 2019, is also where you see hadestown for the first time.

the original broadway cast, mostly. the rotating stage, the swinging lights. and you marvel with your friends at the nuances of choreography, the ways the performers’ inflections and blocking differ from and nuance what you imagined from the recording, but it is not so remarkable that you are seeing them, specifically. they put on eight shows a week, after all.

and then. five years and three cities later: different venue, different cast, explaining to a different friend what you remember of that first performance. you wonder if a) you’re being insufferable and b) this was how the viennese aristocracy felt when they attended a live beethoven concert. like you were there when history was being made.**

and yet.

durham, winter 2024. the cold more bitter than you’d expected, from other winter breaks you’ve spent in the south. the theater’s plush seats, the smell of pretzel dough and roasted nuts. and you hear the tale told again: a different eurydice (megan colton)’s fury shot through with tenderness in “all i’ve ever known”; orpheus (bryan munar) singing “to the world we dream about, and the one we live in now” and the cast raising their cups to the audience, to absolute silence in the theater; the palpable weight, in “if it’s true,” to “no answer will be heard / to the question no one asks.”

it is november 2024, and it feels like the whole world is dark and cold and increasingly rancid. and you could have blasted the spotify album on repeat by yourself, teared up as you took your daily walk around town in the failing light. but it matters somehow, that you were present for this performance, this cast. who were not the obc but still had something to say. who showed up on that stage as themselves, and were still worthy of telling this story.

hermes’ injunction to orpheus: tell it again, though. because this was never a new tale. because it is not hades’ and persephone’s receiving of novel information that brings the world back into tune, but their remembering. because you’d forgotten about story not as consumption or social currency or fuel for your own work but as a reminder, again and again, of why you’re alive, why you fight.

because to tell is always to retell.

from the night parade, by jami nakamura lin:

the farther we get from the origin, the looser the narrative becomes. but perhaps what it loses in precision, it gains in expansiveness…you are drawn to these myths because they change. unlike static texts, folklore, legends, and oral histories are living tales that transmogrify with each subsequent retelling.…the texts and the contexts mutually transform. the stories stay alive only as long as we keep telling them.***

to misquote the song of achilles: what are we made of but memories?

*why is this in second person? idk it’s my newsletter ;)

** “i saw eva noblezada perform live” “sure grandma let’s get you to bed”

*** p. 286. also if i’ve used this quote before, it’s because it was in my mfa thesis annotations and my actual (autographed) copy of the book was swallowed up by usps in may. rip

in other news:

• uk copies of these deathless shores (+ swag) are up for grabs at the support trans kids book auction (now through dec 5) and we need diverse books / authors for voices of color (now through dec 10)

• the these deathless shores ebook is on sale this week for $2.99 (along with every other orbit new voices book!)

• the orbit new voices ama will be on reddit r/fantasy all day thursday! come ask unhinged questions ~

• i’ve recently joined authors against book bans, and had some really interesting talks with authors and other publishing professionals fighting censorship across the country—if you’re interested in joining, please fill out this form!

currently reading

• midnights with you by clare osongco (ya contemp, out now)—completely devastated me (again—i had the immense privilege of reading an early draft). yearning & diaspora feelings & a nuanced portrayal of an immigrant mother-daughter relationship & so so many feelings!!

• heart check by emily charlotte (ya rom com, out 2025)—i know nothing about hockey and harper braedon doesn’t either (at least at the beginning of the book, heh). hilarious & so tense and propulsive & the character arcs were ALSO gutting?!?!

• the merciful crow by margaret owen (ya fantasy, out now)—i just started this one, but it has so many things i loved in little thieves and painted devils (eat the rich + persuading people to part with their money + a furious mc clawing her way up from the societal role she was assigned from birth). also a cat named barf. and teeth magic!!! jordan makta would be full of envy

thanks for reading! til next time ~