When I first came back, in the 1980s, I was discovering modern music through dirty, grungy, unknown little bands who would play in underground clubs, forgotten basements of warehouses, and garages of abandoned mansions, etc. They reminded me of the Commedia Players of old or of the players in the theatre–messy, cheap paint on their faces, filthy in lovely, bohemian ways. Poor, underpaid, doing it purely for the glory with no thoughts towards money or fame.
One of those nights I was listening to a band play in one of those places–an old warehouse, mostly rusted steel girders and rotting brick walls at the point, and older musicians that I usually listened to or jammed with, but they’d welcomed me in with a smile and a the offer of a cigarette–and I remember one of the members putting in a cassette tape and playing it.
I knew it was him the moment I heard it. You don’t forget his music, mortal or immortal, not once you know it. Not once he’s played it for you, only for you, and imprinted those scars underneath your skin.
If my blood could have run cold in that moment, it would have. As it was, I grew eerily still in only the way that we can, to the point where I recall one of the mortals asking me if I was okay, did I need a drink, did I need some air?
I vaguely remember mumbling some sort of excuse and leaving. I remember the room seeming blurred, not real, the mortal voices and instruments nothing but a piece of artwork dipped in water in the background of my vision as I fumbled my way out of the building.
You see, I didn’t know then that he had lived. I had no idea. It was the last thing on my mind that Nicolas might still be alive somewhere, might not have perished, and might still be making music on that thrice-damned instrument out there in the world.
I told myself that I must have been mistaken, or convinced myself that I had been hearing ghosts instead of reality. I have often suffered thus; it would not have been a new feeling for me.
It wasn’t until decades later, when I practically ran him over in Paris, that I realized that I’d actually heard him in that grungy warehouse in New Orleans. It had been him, yes. He was alive.
Absolutely, that’s fine! Some people have only seen one of the movies, or the Musical, or only read the more recent books, etc… the gift exchange has no prerequisite!
In fact, we got a submission in from someone who said they hadn’t read past one of the books, themselves, so they don’t know characters outside it, so we won’t be matching them with someone who wants to give/get those characters.
Tell us what you have read/watched, that will help us match you ^_____^
I mean…you have to start somewhere. Just get your name out there, recognize people, get recognized, and then interact more with the people you like?? I’ve been here two years now and this is what I did and do. It’s really not much more complicated than that.
It might help to realize that we’re all just giant nerds who like to talk about norse bros fucking and no one will think you’re being annoying when you try to put yourself out there! Like, yes, come yell with us!
Ok so I have more thoughts. This is actually something that maybe I’ve learned with age? And I’m saying you do this personally, anon, this just kind of general advice for a general “you”, but… You can’t simply…exist somewhere and expect to have people notice you or make friends. You can’t go to a party and sit against the wall looking lonely and not talking and expect to meet people. You can’t even just stand there in a group of people laughing and nodding. You have to make an effort! You have to say hi, and be friendly, and add your thoughts, and ask people about their thoughts…and if you ever want to see them again after that party you have to make it happen. And sure, maybe you might get turned down? But if you don’t try, the answer is always no. I know this is hard. It is! It’s really hard! It’s nerve wracking to put yourself out there like that! And to keep doing it! But the thing to realize is that most people are pretty friendly, and if you DO screw up your courage and put yourself out there, USUALLY good things happen.
Also, this is my personal invitation to anyone who’s ever wanted to talk to me and hasn’t…please do! I love making new friends! But I can’t be your friend unless I know who you are! ❤
If you’ve ever read my books, you know I maintain relationships merely because I’ve been lucky enough to find people who don’t throw me away when I reveal myself to be a complete and utter disaster who will sabotage everything we have if given half the chance. I’m a terrible person to give relationship advice.
So here, based on my own failings:
-Say you’re sorry. Mean it.
-But don’t say it all the time.
-Seriously, it loses all meaning.
-Even if you ARE sorry.
-No, sex with that other person isn’t worth it. Yes, I see how good looking they are. Trust me.
-Find ways to show love: notes, trinkets, kisses. Something to show that they are on your mind.
-But not gifts you’d rather just have for yourself, you idiot.
-Don’t buy them a house unless they asked for one.
-Don’t trick them into having children with you because you are afraid they’ll leave you.
-Don’t entrap them.
-Seriously, that one is never going to turn out the way you hope it will.
-Tell the truth. Even when it makes you look terrible.
-Trust them. Yes, especially when you don’t want to trust anyone.
-Tell them the things that scare you about yourself. If they are who you think they are, they can hold them for you.
-Know that they love you, even when they are so angry at you that they can’t bear to look at you.
-Say I love you. Yes, it’s going to hurt. Do it anyway.
“You forgot the most important point.
Allow yourself be loved. No matter how wretched and undeserving you feel.”
Hello! Your vcsecretgifts mods have been discussing internally when to get the 2018 Exchange going *u* Hopefully we will begin advertising it soon, signups in Nov., so that we have time to assign gifters/receivers, and then give you 4 weeks to make gifts.
Awww, that’s correct, I do love knowing this! Your bio says you’re a Criminology major, that’s so cool! Now I know who to go to for planning the perfect crime(s).
You didn’t ask for this but here it goes: I was under 17 when movie!IWTV first came out on VHS
(yes I’m that old), I was around 11. I’d read several of the first books, and I wanted that movie BADLY. I coordinated a school friend to get it for me, like contraband, I had to sneak that VHS tape into my house, immediately stripped it of its labels, saved them with my little binder of articles I collected at the time about the movie, and relabeled the tape “Forrest Gump” so that my parents wouldn’t know I had it. Thankfully they never asked to borrow my copy of that movie! That was probably what I considered my best purchase ever, at the time. I watched it when I was home alone now and then, and I’d bring it over to a few friends’ houses, where we’d try to say the lines along with the movie, so that battered old tape really meant a lot to me. It’s where my nostalgia for the movie was born, so as problematic as it is, I have so much affection for it.
Obviously, there was a Forbidden Fruit quality to that, hiding it like I did, and the fact that I wasn’t allowed to watch it, made me want it that much more!
Lestat probably doesn’t like that movie!IWTV is so popular, he’d rather ppl moved on to his book… [digging up an oldie from the archive for ya:]
This very much did brighten my day! You did well for our fandom ❤
The tsunami of fresh blood in our fandom is just, so heartwarming. I’m loving the fanart, the cosplay, there’s plenty of new fic, it’s awesome. Netflix has IWTV and QOTD up, so I think some ppl are seeing it there for the first time, there’s also the new book recently out…
I dug around in my memes for something special to give you for leading those two young twenty-somethings dressed in elegant business casual to the books, and this doesn’t entirely match up, but it spoke to me as wanting to be posted in response, so have this!:
What I consider “special” might seem mundane to others. This year, I was grateful to have Lestat with me, as there were many years without him. Each year he asks me what I wish for, what physical objects he can give, places we might go. He wants to know if I want a coven gathering or to just keep to ourselves. I usually choose the latter, but I receive cards to our P.O. box from the coven from all over the world. How do they know it’s my birthday? I’ve never even met some of them.
Every year I’ve been able to do so, I tell him I’m content to just have him with me.
Despite my reticence to ask for anything, he always finds an object that has some meaning to me, perhaps an early edition of a favorite novel with the author’s notations, or he will make a “happening” in which we awaken to a string quartet playing works from one of my favorite composers in our candlelit courtyard. He won’t force me to dance; we curl up together in a rattan chaise, with pillows and plush blankets, to enjoy the music.
After that, he sometimes blindfolds me and we take flight to some other destination. This year, we went to Portland’s Rose Test Garden in Oregon. Roses of so many different colors and scents, some more like citrus, others more like honey… it was a truly unique experience.
We stayed there in the garden for two nights, where I expressed my appreciation to him. I won’t go into more detail on that. Some nights, we sleep in the dirt, as if we were a part of nature. Lestat gently excavated me on the second night, waking up with the film of good clean dirt was almost like a rebirth. Seeing his face with the backdrop of the starry night sky, his hands carefully wiping my face clean as he spoke gentle words to me, that was a special gift.
I-want-my-IWTV 