The Fracture: May 2024
Skinner's Law, how anglerfish mate, sexy audiobooks, mid-century pin-up artists
I have a few new epic subscribers (thank you!), so it would behoove me to briefly explain the sections of my Substack:
The Gnawing - posts about writing, life, and joyful venting
The Cavity - previously published works (usually remixed a bit) so you can catch up
The First Cut - new, odd, and dicey pieces
The Fracture - a rundown of what's giving me inspiration lately (articles, art, music, etc.)
I previously posted two editions of The Fracture a month, but my life is like that plastic bag full of unhealthy cereal that you try to get back inside the box.
The articles (formerly “The links”)
Sarah Thornton tries to explain our obsession with breasts.
Ever heard of Skinner’s Law? It’s horrible, but it really does help keep you motivated. I’ve been doing this since childhood, and that explains a lot.
Study Sheds Light on Anglerfish’s Weird Mating Routine = sexual parasitism. There are no safe places anymore.
Finally! Thank you, Sarah Menkedick, for “Why Are Divorce Memoirs Still Stuck in the 1960s?”
Divorce, sure. Ditch the toxic men, strike out on your own. But there’s nothing new or radical there. The radical is in a feminism that examines care as profound, powerful work and centers rather than marginalizes mothering, as both a lived act and a metaphor. We must let go of this half-century-old notion that the self can be “found” only after the roles of “mother, wife, daughter” have been rejected.
The music
A lot of songs hitting me about coming and going.
Foo Fighters - “Next Year”
Come on, get on, get on
Take it till life runs out
No one can find us now
Living with our heads underground
Ben Folds - “Landed”
If you wrote me off, I'd understand it
'Cause I've been on some other planet
So come pick me up, I've landed
And you will be so happy to know
I've come alone, it's over
Zero 7 - “Destiny”
I lie awake
I've gone to ground
I'm watching porn
In my hotel dressing gown
And now I dream of you
But I still believe
There's only enough for one
In this lonely hotel suite
The books
Couldn't finish What Happened to Nina? Actually, I don't know what happened... to me. Why did I choose this? I thought it was nonfiction. (It's not, but apparently influenced by a real life case. A number of reviewers mentioned the cover was misleading.) I don't like stories where people are kept in the dark by snarky elites unless the snarky elites are likable (the Roy family from Succession, for example). As soon as I got a taste of old(er) people cyber bullying, I was bored and done.
Annie Bot, or as I like to call it The Grown Up Version of The Wild Robot (good series, my daughter recommends), made me think deeply about my need to please, specifically sexually. I get turned on by giving what others only fantasize about. Like Annie, I wondered about autonomous choice and what true surrender looks like. The ending seemed rushed, but it was proper because her owner/boyfriend Doug will always be Doug, despite therapy and trust and an optimistic future he planned for the both of them. The closet incident was heartbreaking... technically, there were three closet incidents, but one was the cruelest.
Acts of Service. Sexy threesome. Twisted (or maybe not?) relationship. Interesting if you can get through the slog of too many descriptive details. Give me more plot. I could not finish. The author uses the bored, entitled NYC 20-something white woman trope as her mouthpiece for questioning desire and sensuality but offered little answers. I would hope my story, enveloped in years devoted to ministry, trying to understand cultural identity and where I fit as an immigrant's daughter, and coming out later in life, doesn't sound like a pretentious waste of breath. Amen.
How to Stay Married was perfect. Funny account by Harrison Scott Key (also from Savannah) about his wife’s affair and his shortcomings. I made my husband put it on hold on his Libby app.
More: A Memoir About Open Marriage made me exhausted and wonder if I was this stupid during my run. Molly Roden Winter lives in NYC… she had a larger pool of suitors! Why did her experience echo mine where I’m in an ENM dead zone?! I almost gave up on this one because she (me) annoyed me. Her next book is supposed to be how she got everything “right” or better or “not like Desiree.”
I’m a normal speed reader. I just have a 45-minute commute, so when an audiobook came available, I pounced on it.
The art
I bought some Vargas pin-up girl calendar prints at a quirky antique mall that definitely required the consumption of an allergy pill. These prints became popular when they first started appearing in Esquire magazine. Alberto Vargas (1896-1982) later moved on to more scantily clad work for Playboy. Check out some beauties here.
I also picked up the framed print by Earl Moran (1893-1984), a photographer and artist in the pin-up area. Marilyn Monroe posed for him, and the two formed a friendship. He has a nice portfolio as well.
The random
Celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary with a fancy meal and arranging a hot appointment for sex… therapy.
I’m very inspired by my body. It’s a lovely treasure box, elusive and rare. I need to take pics soon.
Provocative thrift store finds are swell, but I want to feel powerful in this:
A rando on IG commented on my comment about how much I loved a Relm Artist print with “u want.” Just cut to the chase and tell me how many nudes I will have to send as a form of payment. Goodness, weirdo.
Tired of husbands reaching out and asking for advice on how to “support” their insecure, bisexual wives. I want to hear from them, not you. If they don’t want to reach out to me, then they’re obviously nowhere near ready to live out their queer freedom for your entertainment yet. Go away.
I have a good life. Not perfect but good. I've noticed that I've taken comfort in apathy lately though. I asked my therapist if this is bad. Is apathy:
Self protection?
Maturity?
Being realistic?
Not acting like an excited puppy, so overwhelmed when its owner comes home, it pees?
I do know it’s becoming more and more natural for me.
Maybe it's not apathy, but something else related to how through my life I've never matched the amount of amusement displayed by others. I get excited when people have good news and when they've conquered big things. (Maybe that's why they come to me because I can't fake it. My enthusiasm is genuine.) This dispassionate feeling just stems from me and my personal interactions with the world, I suppose. The pursuits of others > my own pursuits.
What else would I call this? Ha, Google gave me "torpor" as a synonym. Makes sense with my black-capped chickadee tattoo. Makes perfect sense.
My first pride festival is tomorrow. I'm keeping my expectations low but trying not to appear guarded. How do you balance optimism without "over hype-ing" and later getting disappointed? I should just look forward to crossing off:
You did something new today. ✅
My middle child weaned himself off caffeine. Middle school withdrawal is no joke.
Finally, I had a subscriber say he didn’t like my Fracture posts. These serve as a wonderful release for me. My mind is constantly swirling, and letting it all out in these recaps helps and influences me in entrancing ways when I’m curious about my world. This, then, impacts my writing. So, in response:
