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What Are You Supposed To Be?
Shasta Schatz • Oct 24, 2019
Don't Call it "Play"
I legit cringe every time I hear that question, and as a hobby costumer (more on that later), I hear the question, nay, judgement, a lot. My humble beginnings as a child in love with playing dress up are fairly standard, but my journey to sleep-deprived costume fairy was fraught with side-eyes and etymology shade. If you’re even a little curious about the cackling voice you hear during our Oddity Podigy episodes, grab an over-sized mug of Earl Grey and I’ll rant a bit about why I’m here--both on this blog and in my hobby.
Back when this Oddity Prodigy Productions venture was merely a fantasy, I was toying with the idea of fiction writing. Science fiction and fantasy have always been my jam, and I’d dabbled in the NaNoWriMo festivities once or twice. Oh, and, I figured I should try to legitimize that English degree that I keep secret and safe on my studio wall...as cartoon dollar bills fly out of my wallet and off to their home at the student loan office. Anyway, I never aimed for Octavia E. Butler status, hell, I’ve never even attended a writer’s workshop. I just wanted to see what it was like to write a story from start to finish. And then, life distracted me. Those who have read the OPP story know that it took time and a few well-placed gut punches to motivate our fellowship into gear. For my part, I stepped away from writing almost entirely, only making notes on story ideas when the mood struck. I filled that headspace and my basement with costumes.
Back in the dark ages--middle school, I started to get really picky about what my Halloween costumes were. I gave my seamstress (Thanks, Mom) explicit instructions on how my pieces needed to look, and at some point, she told me to fuck off and make my own. By the time I reached my mid-twenties, a friend remarked, “You have a costume for everything!” I don’t remember how true that statement was at the time, but soon after, I discovered costume-friendly events outside of October, that didn’t involve keg stands. Only scratching the surface of playing dress-up as an unpaid adult, my gateway activity was attending renaissance faires as a “playtron”--a patron of a faire who dresses in pseudo-historical garb. That opened up a whole new world of comic cons, steampunk-pirate-fairy fests, and bonafide costume conventions. I even did a stint as a historical reenactor while working for a museum. At some point, I started a blog about my costume trials and tribulations, which soothed my writing itch. Nearly two decades later, I am considered a “cosplayer” by pop culture standards, and I can’t express in words just how much that title irks me.
As a hobbyist, I am an enthusiastic maker and appreciator. I love the ways in which the items we wear tell a story, from overall mood down to small details that give us a whiff of days gone by. I have a bookgasm anytime an author can accurately describe the rustle of silk taffeta along garden pavestones or the protective comfort of stays (the precursor to corsets) when a lady is gearing up for a long day of turning away suitors. My costuming preferences vary with the events that I attend, but I lean on historical options whenever possible. The fun part for me is creating, so the other aspects of the hobby--being in character, doing photoshoots, entering contests--tend to cause an unexpected level of stress. The idea of “playing” in my 100 hour build-time costume, outside of a courtly dance or a selfie with some kiddos, is an easy way to get me back into leggings and t-shirts. I prefer to wear my most elaborate gowns in peace with a turkey leg in my hand and sea shanty in my heart. Being called a cosplayer feels like I’m being put in a bucket with the prop-wielding Deadpools, and I just can’t accept it. I believe in the power that words have over us...and my pinky is forever in the upright and locked position. That said, my very favorite aspect of costume design is combining fandoms to break fanboy brains, and I will tell tall tales of my Kobayashi Maru to all of the younglings just to get a reaction.
And since it is currently Spooky season, I’ll go ahead and briefly touch on my feelings about interactions with the rest of the world while I’m in costume. I hate them. While the question “What are you supposed to be” is, in theory, innocent and honest, the tone, especially at this time of year, can be combative--costume contest competitors at work, grouchy candy-givers, drunks on a bar crawl, confused mundanes at the gas station--everyone is awful. If you expect me to explain my Art Nouveau Medusa as you furrow your brow in judgement, you uncultured swine, you have another thing coming, and I have a Mucha themed absinthe tasting to attend. While I acknowledge that my ensembles can be difficult to decipher as compared to your Sexy Daddy Shark from the Halloween store, a simple, “Tell me about your costume” will suffice, Chad.
There's something I recently realized about myself. It begins with an internal dialogue I had about dividing authors up into two types. The first type of author I thought about was the author, who is writing a story for you, the audience. It's going to be a story with certain expectations that make it a mystery, romance, or some other type of established genre. They know what you are looking for, and you are going to get it. I want to be clear; I am not bad-mouthing these stories. Many established writers can be unique and clever in their own right and still fit this idea, like James Patterson. The author can really put their own sense of self and cleverness into their story. Though, in time, this too can be expected by you, the reader, and becomes another binding. In the end, they are writing for you, and you are the final decider. Then, there are the types who are not writing for you. In fact, it has nothing to do with you. Yes, they hope you'll buy it. Yes, they hope you'll read it. Yes, they hope you'll love it. But in the end, none of that mattered in its creation, because it was never about you.
“You’re going to submit something to Scary Stuff?” I remember both Jacob and Nicholas looking at me with raised eyebrows when I told them that I was going to submit a story for our first submission-based anthology. I’ve always had a very rocky relationship with the genre. Bad things happening to people for no reason gives me nightmares. Fiction was always an escape, a chance to slip into a world where heroes did heroic things, and evil always carries the seeds of its downfall. In horror though, most often the bad guys win. Even if the villains don’t win in the end, the heroes always lose for the majority of the narrative. That kind of story, which usually is supposed to fire your adrenaline and allow you to live vicariously through situations that you would never survive otherwise, just keeps me up at night and gives me anxiety. Something funny happened though. I read through the submission guidelines, and it suggested to read Creepy and Eerie magazine to get a feel for the tone to strike in your story. I hadn’t read either before but I headed online to see if I could find some examples. What I found was an archive of the old eerie comics, and in reading through them I discovered a world of horror that I never knew about. It shouldn’t have been surprising that the genre is not body parts flying through windows and heavy gore, but if something was labeled as horror I would just take a pass. The few movies that I have seen that might qualify as horror ( The Universal Monster movies , Resident Evil , Aliens ) are not horror movies for me. They are all either black and white films from an era where the limits of special effects neuter the impact of the horror, or are action films that happen to use a few horror elements. So when asked if I would like to see/read/hear about horror, I would politely decline.
This upcoming Saturday, November 9th, Oddity Prodigy Production s will be launching an Indiegogo crowdfunding campaign for our upcoming anthology “ Scary Stuff !” This is our very first crowdfunding campaign and we’re all pretty excited.
In September of 2018 I took a seat in a favorite movie theater in Fairfax, VA. I had a bottle of water, a bag of popcorn, and a whole lot of trepidation. I was there to see the new adaptation of Stephen King’ s seminal novel “ It ”. I saw the original It TV mini series as a kid when it aired and fell in love with it, even though I didn’t read the book till much later. It was a well told coming of age story, filled with fascinating characters, and a scary-as-hell Tim Curry as Pennywis e. The special effects are pretty dated, but otherwise I think the original holds up pretty well. It does a great job getting at the core themes of the book. Themes like friendship, loyalty, fear, bravery, and the sepia-tone haziness of childhood summers as puberty exploded our emotions in a million intense directions. When the lights came up in the theater, I had very much enjoyed the new film. I liked it more when I saw it a second time a few weeks later, but that’s almost always the way with adaptations. The first time through tends to feel more like watching a checklist than a movie. “Ok, so they did the scene with Bev in the bathroom, but they left out the deadlights? Huh.” The second time through I was able to take it in on it’s own merits. It certainly had problems but overall did a good job and made for a really entertaining movie. It also made a metric ton of cash, and so the sequel got fast-tracked. After enjoying the first one, I was very excited for the follow up.
In the ancient ritual of comic book fans everywhere, I made a trip down to my comic shop this past Wednesday. If you’ve followed Oddity Prodigy Productions at all, you’ll know that the shop in question was Captain Blue Hen Comics. It was a solid week of comics. The new issues of Shazam and Freedom Fighters came out, two books I’ve really been enjoying. There was an appearance of Naomi in Action Comics, which is exciting. The mini-series introducing her was a recent highlight. That’s not what I’m here to talk about however. One of the fun things that Captain Blue Hens does is ask a question of the week. They put it up on a board behind the counter and ask everyone who comes by to vote on the answer. This week’s question was “Who are the best superhero buddies?” As you can see in the pic, there are ten options.
Jake talks about the influence and power of Akira, one of the most evocative visual stories ever told in pop culture history.
A rundown of recent comics, TV and movies that the OPP bullpen is finding to be worth your time.
Scary Stuff submissions are in and now the fun begins for Oddity Prodigy Productions as they choose which ones to go with.
Midsommar is one of those movies that has the power and subtlety to put you on edge and then keep you there, even when you are not exactly sure how. Much like 1988's American Gothic
About eight years ago I wrote a novel called “The Change” and it’s the story of a young man growing up on his own in a world overrun by what are essentially zombies. The story delves into concepts of faith, living in a dangerous world, and rock and roll.