I’m continuing to experiment with the video essay. Mostly because I am tired and don’t have much time—

(although I know that’s not really true. We all have time, it’s just a matter of what we choose to do with it and I am choosing to work a day job that takes up a lot of my time so that I have health insurance and can afford to buy my dog way too many toys, but… I digress)

If you’re not into video essays, you can listen to the essay on Spotify. Or you can read the (unedited) transcript below.

TL:DR

Humans are narrative beings. We tell stories to bolster and justify our actions and beliefs. So, even the most innocuous stories have power and we should be very careful about which stories we choose to repeat or create.

That’s all folks!

❤️ Sammie

✏️ 💌 p.s.

For those of you who have watched/listened, my mom brought up the point that my book is “stuff” too. Isn’t the act of printing this book part of a bigger system that I am condemning? Which I guess is what I was saying about the point of art—at what point do we think “stuff” or “art” has value? And if we understand that our art, too, has consequences, what do we do with that information?

The unedited transcript:  

Hello, beautiful humans.

Long time no see. I've been wanting to do an update about When Darcy Met Lizzie for a while, but my day job has been incredibly busy, and I can't just not do it. So that's why I'm recording this late at night. And if I look haggard and tired, it's because I am haggard and tired, but I wanted to do a little post about the progress of When Darcy Met Lizzie and talk about some things that are on my mind. I think the inner school perfectionist in me is struggling with the fact that I'm not writing these essays anymore and that I am just kind of speaking.

I think there's something about me that really likes to do an in-depth research paper. And also, I'm sorry if you hear my dog in the background. She's having a moment. But I like to do a really in-depth research paper, and I really like to make an argument and take it all the way through. But honestly, who's got time for that nowadays? And I have other things that I want to work on. The time that I want to spend writing, I want to be writing other things, not stuff for this Substack. Not that I don't value this Substack, it's just more that the in-depth research I want to do is for projects that are just beyond here.

So anyway, I'm trying to realize that perfect is the enemy of the good. And I'm just trying to stifle my little Virgo, teacher's pet, Hermione Granger, and just try to get some stuff out there. So, actually, let me do a little show and tell.

Welcome to my office. So, ta da! This is the cover. Oh, not this is the cover. This is the real shebang. This is When Darcy Met Lizzie, designed by Jesse Broom. The layout on the inside is from this lovely human named Alyssa Natosi. I don't actually know how to say her last name. I should have double-checked. It's got a beautiful spine. My previous novella couldn't be sold in a lot of bookstores because it didn't have a title on the spine, so this is a huge win for me. The back, so great. I know that this is backwards in your view, and that's because I have flipped the video horizontally. Yes, I have done that, and it is true. I did it because I am Bane, and I prefer one perspective of my face. And I'm giving that perspective that I prefer to you. Even though it's not the real perspective. But you know what? I can do that if I want. Okay, so this is the test one. And I just wanted to make sure that it was good before I bought a bunch of copies and shipped them all out to everyone who pre-ordered. And the answer is that it is good. It's, I'm very impressed with it. I am annoyed by certain indentation issues in it. And I'm trying to not let it bother me because really it doesn't matter, but I think some of it really... you know how there's that one typo that really pisses you off? There's a lot of indentation issues. So I'm just trying to... this is a process. Accepting the process has been a little hard for me, but I am very proud of it. And I'm glad it's going to be out in the world shortly. And anyone who pre-ordered should expect it soon.

So, the topic of today's Substack is the responsibility of writers and art. What did I think about when I was writing this book? Did I think I had a responsibility, or was it just pure fun? And the short answer is that yes, while I had so much fun writing this, I did take it very seriously because I take everything very seriously. Unfortunately, it's kind of a bummer, but I realized that if you have a classic, a beloved classic, and you're going to retell it and make it queer... You can't just plop queer characters in. You can't just make people gay in a world that wasn't forgiving of gay life or gay love. Because that really does a disservice to queer people and queer stories. And as much as I want to support the magic and the beauty of just imagining your own life and your own world and just imagining we all live in a frolicking, magical land where everyone loves each other and there's no harm, and no hatred... That is not the world we live in, actually.

So, I had to balance this. This book that I wanted to really revel in queer joy and love and sex and make it really special. I also had to balance the realities of what it was like to be a woman in the 1800s and potentially be gay. In the Culture Study podcast by Anne Helen Petersen, she has a four-part series about romance that I thought was really great, but she has one episode, "The Expansive World of Queer Romance." And it came out on December 11th in 2024 with Adib Karam. He wrote I'll Have What He's Having—love the title—but something Adib said is that it's really thoughtless to just create a magical realism world without understanding the consequences, and that historical fiction has a tough job to do if you're going to take a speculative approach to it.

So, what I did to respect the cultural confines of Regency England while also subverting them was two things. So, first of all, I had to figure out, what does it mean to be free in this world? And what does it mean to have power in this world? And why would Darcy have it, theoretically, and why wouldn't Elizabeth? And what are the ways in which power and freedom are exchanged in this world? And I came upon the idea that money grants us freedom and power. So, I made it so that in this world, if you are a woman and you are the eldest child of a lord or a lady or someone who's wealthy, theoretically, you can be a woman gentleman. And this was a way of basically saying that power and rights and freedom go hand in hand with money. And so, the more money you have, the more freedom and the more rights you have. Which is why Mr. Darcy, with her 10,000 pounds a year, would be theoretically free in this world. However, that doesn't mean that she's free totally or liberated, because she's free in this system that, even though she is a woman, it's a system that upholds the patriarchy and upholds this idea that to be powerful, you must be a man, or you must have manly occupation, meaning you have to be a landowner, or a lot of these people had slaves, or were part of this colonial world, and that's how they got their money. So, there's this idea that money and freedom aren't necessarily inherently free.

So then I was also in a plot problem. So, the second part came from a plot problem, but also from an ideological problem. But the plot problem is I couldn't just have Darcy be the only gay woman in the book because that makes no sense. That would be a boring book. And also very weird to just have one random gay character. I wanted to really embed queer culture into the whole story. So then I had to make a list of characters and think: who could be gay in this world? And then of course I came up with Colonel Foster, who is loosely mentioned in Pride and Prejudice. He is the one who takes Lydia, the youngest sister, off to Brighton and all hell breaks loose afterwards. And I was thinking, wow, there's a lot of cosplay that could come with a military queer woman. And I liked the idea, especially because I think when you're coming out and you're queer, a lot of women want to be EMTs or firefighters. I remember I went through a firefighting phase where I was living in Tahoe and I was like, 'I'm going to be a wilderness firefighter.' And I think there's something very attractive and sexy about being this outdoorsy, woodsy, 'I can take care of myself in survival mode' type. So I thought, 'Oh, Colonel Foster is going to be that sexy EMT/firefighter character, and it's going to be great.' But then I thought, how does Colonel Foster, if I've equated power and freedom to money, how is Colonel Foster going to be, how is she able to be free? And how is she able to marry a woman, walk around with men, and how is she able to be in this life? And I was thinking, well, I thought about the fact that in modern-day culture, the military is often pandered to people from low economic circumstances, and basically it's shown as your ticket out. 'Oh, you can use the GI Bill, you can get your education, you can make a name for yourself.' It's an escape from the circumstances from which you were born, but all you have to do is join the army. And I do think that that happens a lot. I think there are a lot of people who have no other opportunities. They're stuck. And they see the military as their way out.

Back in the day, if you were wealthy, you could buy a position in the army. You didn't have to be really good. But in this position, in this story, Colonel Foster is actually very good. She's very capable and she's earned her way to become a colonel all by her own merit.

So then I was faced with this other plot problem where Elizabeth Bennet, the character that I've painted for her, is a very feisty, independent, strong woman and she does want to be free and why would a woman who's incredibly feisty and independent and brave not choose to go into the army if that was available to her? Because I really don't see Elizabeth Bennet being very scared of very much. She's funny, she's charming. I think she could, theoretically, go into the army if she wanted to. So, I was in this plot problem where I've created a world in which Elizabeth Bennet, theoretically, could have been free on her own if she wanted to and she didn't need Mr. Darcy. And because part of the whole problem with Pride and Prejudice is that Elizabeth Bennet needs Mr. Darcy.

The moral of the story is, they don't have any money. Their property, their estate is entailed away. Theoretically, if their dad dies, they would literally have nothing. And, on top of that, because they don't have an education, and they weren't trained, they don't really have any skills. I say this with love, I'm not trying to diss the Bennet sisters, but they don't have any skills. So they couldn't... they don't have any practical skills. They couldn't even work in an inn if they wanted to. There was very little available to them, but they also couldn't be a governess, which is this thing that we all always see. In Jane Eyre, in these old novels, these women are going off to be a governess. So really, they're screwed. If their dad dies, they're screwed. So why would this girl, who's precocious and wonderful, not take an opportunity to save herself or protect her family? And put herself in a position where she does need to be married to essentially save herself from prostitution. They don't say that explicitly, but that is pretty much the only thing that would be available to them if they didn't get married, which is why Mrs. Bennet's pressure for them to get married is less of a funny joke and more of an act of care and an act of love. She's got her own problems, but it's an act of care.

So I was thinking about this, and this is where art, this is where I think that maybe I deviate from other writers, and I would be curious in the comments (not that anyone ever comments, but if someone should) how I deviate from other writers about the responsibility of art and how much an artist, how much a writer should show their influence and what is our role. And so my opinion of art, which I understand is incredibly controversial and borders on censorship (which I got into a discussion with a friend of mine about this and I realized I was coming across as Nancy Reagan, which is not cool because I don't want to be Nancy Reagan)... However, my personal value system is that stories have power and words have power and what we repeat is magnified. And I take that very seriously. On a daily basis, I try really hard not to share things that are negative and harmful. And I do think that a story can be violent. I really do. I really do think that words and stories can be violent. And I don't support art that is violent for no reason. I'm trying to find an example of art that feels where the violence feels purposeful versus just not. And this is where I think I really deviate, but I truly believe that it is through stories that we will change culture and we will change the world. And if the world is to be changed, if the world is to be saved, I do think the stories need to change. And I think our stories, our narratives right now are so rooted in trauma and revenge and violence. There's just violence everywhere. And I mean, I'm not even talking about murder and serial killers. I'm talking just harm in the way we speak about other people. Anyway, so I decided I was going to use this opportunity to make Elizabeth Bennet my little totem girl for nonviolence.

And I say this knowing that I may wish that I was a nonviolent person. I may not believe in violence. I don't believe in violence. I think violence begets more violence. I don't believe in war. I don't believe in it. And I know that I have some extreme, more militant friends and I understand their views, but that is not my personal view. I think that we need to eradicate violence on all levels. And I say this knowing (if you want to go back to my previous post about heroism and the fact that no one is going to be a hero)... I say this knowing that we are deeply enmeshed. As a white American, I am deeply enmeshed in violence and that my life is buoyed and supported by acts of violence. And that just by living my daily life—this computer I'm recording this on, this phone—everything is rooted in some harm across the world. I'm spiraling. Anyway, I'll get back to it. So I understand that I want to be nonviolent. However, I am violent in my existence. So I understand that's a confusing dichotomy. However, I do feel that... and I'm not trying to absolve or liberate myself from violence or try to wash my hands of it like Lady Macbeth saying, 'Out, damned spot!' I'm not trying to do that. However, I do think that it's important to aspirationally dream the world in which you want to live, or somehow change the story. And maybe this is me being naive, but this is where I'm at. Where I feel that I don't want to live in a violent world anymore and I want to raise awareness to the fact that we are living in a violent world every day. And so I decided to make Elizabeth Bennet not want to join the army because she doesn't want to kill or murder anyone and she has a line, which I probably should have saved earlier, but she's talking to (I'm not going to spoil it) some other colonels in the war... and I can't find it anyway, but basically she states her opinion right there. Which is that she's not going to take her freedom. She can't be free if she takes her freedom from somebody else. And so that is an explanation of how you're faced with a plot problem. The plot problem was, how do I create more gay people in this world? And then I'm forced to answer it with an ideological answer. So it's twofold. Plot problem, enter sexy firefighter EMT soldier lady Colonel Foster. Then, creates another plot problem, which is, why wouldn't Lizzie just join the army and be free? And I was able to share my ideological perspective that I don't think anyone should kill another human being. I just don't, I think it's wrong. I don't think we should do that as human beings. And so that was my, that's my story.

So anyway, you might be reading When Darcy Met Lizzie and you might think that it's just a story, just a story about two ladies getting it on. But really, you're reading my propaganda. My non-violent propaganda. No, I'm kidding. But really, I do think it's important, when you are given the opportunity to create and write, to consider the repercussions of your story. Even if literally 50 people read your book. Even if three people read your book, I think writing and creating forces you to think about things and question things and it forces you to take a stance and create a perspective and a story. So, that gets back to the responsibility of art. Should art be moral? Is that the responsibility of art? Or should art just be art, art for the sake of art? And I'm not going to go so far as to say that art should be moral, but I think that we should all understand the weight of stories and how powerful they are.

I also read this book, Parallel Lives, by Phyllis Rose, which was very good. It's about Victorian marriages, but she talks about John Stuart Mill and Harriet Taylor, and Harriet Taylor was married to a man and she fell in love with John Stuart Mill and this was in the 1850s, and remarriage was off the table. She basically wrote—she contributed to—that famous piece called On the Subjugation of Women. And this is a quote: She says marriage appeared to her 'no more than the transfer of a sexual commodity, with men getting all the pleasure and women getting all the disagreeables and pains.' Which is crazy. It's hard to think about this from this generation, that a woman would be thinking about this. But basically back in the day, you couldn't—I mean, still to this day, a lot of women can't say no—but if you're married, your husband... you just... you are literally his sex slave, which is what Harriet Taylor is saying in On the Subjugation of Women. And we don't think about it, right? But marriage and romance is a story. It's this idea of a monogamous marriage, this idea that we are bound to one person for life is a story and a lot of us are participating in it every day, and this story was created as a power dynamic and, in a lot of ways, for capitalism and property. So we can think, 'Oh, this is just a romantic storyline, this is just a really fun, nice story about two people who end up together.' And sure, that's true, but a lot of these stories of finding your one true love in your husband or your wife was literally a story used to force women into this property arrangement, right? And I think when you know the story, and when you see the inner workings of the story, you can choose, you can decide whether you want that story for yourself. I don't really know any woman alive who wants to be the sex slave of their partner, like Harriet Taylor was, but there are plenty of people who think that marriage is worth it for their own purposes. So anyway, this is an example of all of us engaging in a story that was told and created for us a long time ago. And if we don't expose the structure of the stories or choose to tell our own, better, different stories, we're basically just giving away our power. And no one wants that. Why give away your power? I mean, any more than we already have to.

And another thing that I was going to mention is that I read this book. I'm currently reading it. I'm not finished with it. Salvage: Readings from the Wreck by Dionne Brand. And I wish that this book just came out. And I wish that it had come out before I had written When Darcy Met Lizzie. Except sometimes thinking too much can be the enemy of creativity. But something I didn't address in When Darcy Met Lizzie was race. I didn't address it. For Darcy, I based her physical appearance on my girlfriend, who's Brazilian and she was born in Rio and she has traditional mixed Brazilian heritage. So I described Darcy as having her physical attributes, which are really curly, coarse hair, very tan skin. And obviously that wouldn't have been Darcy back in the day. Darcy would have been a white woman. But, so anyway, I subvert race a little bit by just making Darcy and her family look the way that my girlfriend looks and the way her family looks, and that was just a subtle way of basically saying that not everyone in this world is white. But I didn't address it. I didn't talk about colonialism. I didn't talk about slavery. I didn't deal with it. I know that Bridgerton deals with it in its own way in the TV show and it's not satisfactory to a lot of people. But anyway, I wanted to talk about this in terms of stories, because Dionne Brand is basically talking about how the reading culture, the canon, and reading things like Pride and Prejudice (she talks about Mansfield Park in this book) actually did her harm. As a person of color, this canon, this literary canon that we're all supposed to read, just bolsters and further supports this culture of whiteness and colonialism. And let's read this section that I thought was good.

One second. She says (so she's talking about Vanity Fair, which is another book from that time), 'I propose that the colonial event is the aesthetic, that its pleasures, tastes, manners, consist of this juxtaposition. What is pleasing, what is in beautiful form, is the violence.' And what else does she say? She says, 'the wealth is a given, not the subject in question.' So, talking about the fact that all of these people in Vanity Fair—and, specifically in Mansfield Park, the Bertram family—get all their money from slave plantations. But it's implied this money's coming from somewhere. I don't know where Darcy's money came from, but in my world, it doesn't come from slavery. Anyway. She says, 'everyone, meaning individuals and companies, had their hands in slavery and colonial exploitation. Just as today, individuals and corporations have their hands in extracting oil or minerals and producing electronics as they destroy the earth on which we live and the oceans, waterways, and air, while describing their actions in terms of jobs, livelihoods, and wealth as a right of the rich.' And then 'the colonial conquest embedded in the book without any of the actors from those places speaking, but rather appearing as immutable.' What she's trying to say, and which I just wish this book had come out when I was in high school... I think it would have changed my perspective on things. But what she's trying to say is that these books that we so treasure are really holding up a violent ideology, and that these stories, the stories of Pride and Prejudice, this colonial wealth that we all kind of romanticize like the Cinderella story, is really just upholding these colonial views that we are engaging in today.

My girlfriend said something that I thought was really profound the other day, which is that this war on immigration is similar to the war on drugs, which is just this idea that in the Northwestern Hemisphere, we are addicted to commodities. We're addicted to shit. We're addicted to stuff. And in order to get this stuff, we need to funnel more stuff in at a really high rate, which we just can't. We can't get our stuff. We can't generate this much shit on our own. And as a result, we need cheap labor. We need a story. We need a story to support this addiction, right? Because it's just not sustainable. We can't, you and I can't live in this world where we have really fancy devices and cheap groceries if we don't engage or partake in some version, essentially, of slave labor. And our modern-day way of getting that slave labor is through undocumented migrants, right?

So, another example, besides marriage, of a story that we're living in today, is the story of the undocumented, illegal alien. And that they are a criminal, and that they're bad for America. And why is this story so important? Why would so many people care that there are these undocumented—not even undocumented, illegal—aliens? They're everywhere. They're criminals. They're coming, why do we fucking care? Who cares? Why do we make anyone a villain? Why do we make anyone a bad guy? It's because if you make someone a villain, or if you make them a bad person, or if you make them a monster, you take away their rights. Monsters don't have rights. The dragon dies, Godzilla dies, Sauron dies, monsters have no feelings, they're not free, they don't have liberty, right? So the first thing you want to do if you want to take advantage of someone, if you want to strip them of their rights, is you tell a story, you tell a really fucking good story that they are a monster. And if you tell that story good enough, well enough, suddenly you have an entire population that believes that there are all these monsters out there that don't deserve basic human rights. And what happens when you have a whole population of people who don't deserve basic human rights is then suddenly you have all these people that you can just exploit and no one cares if you exploit them because they're monsters. They have no rights. You can not pay them. You can have undocumented child migrants working in meatpacking plants that are eight, nine years old, doing all sorts of dangerous labors. And no one fucking cares because you have told a story so well that they are bad, right? So, it's funny, it's honestly laughable to me. I mean, it's not laughable, it's horrendous, it's awful. But all these people out there who think that Trump was saying that he built a border wall. If you look at a map, the wall is literally a piece of fiction. It is a story piece. Yes, there are pieces of the wall that were built, there are. I've seen the wall, yes, it does exist. There are pieces, but there are also huge gaps in the wall. It was never completed and it was never intended to be completed. The whole point is that they want people to come in to America. We need undocumented labor. America runs on undocumented labor. We could not function. The reason America has cheap groceries (everyone's complaining about the price of groceries) is because we have undocumented labor, right? And that's just the state of affairs, but you tell the story of this big wall, right? Suddenly you have... that is literally out of a fairy tale, like Sleeping Beauty. The big bad witch built the wall of brambles or something.

So anyway, that's the point of stories, right? We can, to bring it back to my point, the point is that stories matter. We live stories every day. You and I are participating actively in a story right now where the world is trying to tell us that undocumented migrants in the United States of America have no rights and that they're monsters. And the reason we're doing that is so that we can exploit them and use them so that we can live our lives without having to understand that our lives have consequences and are unsustainable, right? But you tell a good story that marriage is good for women, and suddenly you have women like Harriet Taylor exposing the truth that, actually, women are commodities.

Anyway, so the moral of the story is, I take stories very seriously. I think it's important for everyone to take stories seriously. And I don't think we should be naive and just assume that when we're creating art, we don't have the potential for propagating and perpetuating harm.

This is why I should just write an essay and not just talk, because clearly this is a rambly piece. But the flip side is, obviously: should we make art that only has a good moral? Because no one likes to be preached at and obviously no one, it's not very productive to constantly just be writing things that are about good people doing good things. No one wants the Ted Lassos of the book world to just be the only books we have available. We need complicated rich stories. So where does it lie? What do we do?

So the truth is I don't really have an answer to this question of what is the responsibility of the artist and what do we owe the audience, real or imagined, even if it's just ourselves. I don't have, I wish I could tell you a prescription, but I guess that's the whole point that we can't prescribe other people's experiences or lives. But I did want to share with you all something that has brought me solace over the last few years, that my friend Sheila Heti wrote to me in an email in 2020. And I have this printed and it's sometimes just a really helpful touchstone for me when I feel dark and lost. And I think I just wanted to share it with you all. And this was something that was sent in an email. So, here it is:

I know what you mean about feeling like the books have to help people in some way. I think it's the times we're living in. We live in such "non-fiction" times where everyone seems to be a journalist or online with some agenda, and also we know more about the horrible realities and problems that other people are experiencing, and we know the world needs us for a million things, and we can easily forget the value of art (which is a form that doesn’t always know what it’s saying) in the midst of all this. Maybe this has been the case in every era in history, but it seems especially so now.

Everything we make, we have to imagine into some huge river of information and utility and talk, and that can also be intimidating: how does it fit into this rush of words and pictures; a lot of it with a very legitimate moral claim? How do we come to feel that our art, or art at all, has a moral claim, or a right to take up time and space?

I think the only answer to that is to think of the art that has had value in your own life, the books you've loved, that have stayed with you or formed you, and just see what they are when you look at them all together: What is art? What is a novel? What does it give us? Did the writer mean to help us, or can we be helped even if they didn't, and isn't there something outside of help that is valuable? I don't think books "help" me, not the ones I love best. I think they just stretch the universe I'm living in, so that it encompasses more. Like those dreams where you visit a house you know and then there are suddenly more rooms? A great novel is like the world we're living in, which we think we know, but look—now it suddenly has more rooms!

At least, that's how I feel about it today. I think that's always worth something. I think it's not clear what makes a novel one of those "more rooms" versus what makes it flat and just the same room as the one that you've been living in. We just don't live in a time that knows how to say what the imagination or art is for. But surely a world without the products of the human imagination wouldn't be worth much. I guess some of us have to be the fools who make these rooms, who have that as their faith, that it’s genuinely worth something.

I just find that so comforting. And so, I think she has an interesting thing to say, which is: I don't think art is there to save people or help people. But I do think it's there to make more rooms. And I do think, as a writer, even of a silly fan fiction remake of Pride and Prejudice, I do think I want to build more rooms. I want to make the world a bigger, safer, more expansive, more beautiful place. And I do think that that's what writing is for. Anyway, if you've made it this long, you deserve a treasure, and I will give you one in your subconscious right now. Okay, bye!

P.S. I just watched it and I think it's worth explicitly stating, even though it was implied, but I don't think I explicitly stated it. I one hundred percent don't think undocumented immigrants in the United States are monsters. I think that what is happening is that our government and the political world as well as people like business owners and the economic system that we're in is deeply committed to telling a story that undocumented migrants and immigrants to the United States are monsters, so that we, the American public, especially white Americans, can benefit from their exploited labor. So I'm saying that we are living in a story. We are complicit in a harmful story. That's what I'm trying to say. I don't believe that anyone is a monster. That's another belief that I have. Okay. And then the other thing I wanted to say, because it occurred to me when I was doing this, I was just speaking off the cuff. But I did want to explain a little bit about why it is impossible for me as an aspiring nonviolent person to claim that I am nonviolent. And this is a tangible explanation that I wanted to share with you.

So I wanted to explain the hypocrisy of ideology versus reality. And so there's this article that came out in The Atlantic. 'The Trump administration accidentally texted me its war plans.' And the goal of the article is basically to talk about the security breach that happened, which is crazy and I don't even want to get into it. What I find more enlightening, or not even enlightening, but what should be the focus is the fact that the United States government orchestrated attacks on Yemen, and the Houthi terrorist organization. Supposedly, we blamed terrorism and national security. But in the text messages or in the Signal messages, JD Vance... Well, let me just see who is exactly saying it. It might not be JD Vance who said it specifically. Pete Hegseth says, basically they're debating whether or not they should bomb Yemen, bomb a country with bombs. He says that there are two benefits to it. One is restoring freedom of navigation, a core interest, and reestablishing deterrence. So what they're saying about the freedom of navigation is essentially that because of these Houthi—basically resistance, arguably justified resistance—there has been (let me quote) a 70% decrease in trade. Let me just confirm. 70% decrease in trade volumes, shipments basically, as a result of these strikes. So there was a 70% decrease in volume. So essentially the United States, we were experiencing, I think, 5% decrease in trade because of this shipping blockade, navigation blockade, and then Europe was experiencing a 40% decrease in trade. So essentially what is happening is that there was shipment for fucking products. So products, it is shit, it is stuff. It is that people and human beings were bombed by the United States of America in order for us to get shipments of products. That should be the headline. It should not be that the Trump administration texted the war plans. It should be the fact that in order to get our products and in order to get our things, they were—human lives were lost. And I think that that is the thing that we don't understand sometimes is that our lives are so buoyed (and I'm speaking as an American here right now; I'm not trying to put this on the world), but our access to these things is creating destruction and death. And so I don't even know why I'm laughing, but the point is that I think as much as I want When Darcy Met Lizzie to be this totem of nonviolence, I also think it's equally important to recognize our complicity in this world, and I don't have an answer. I think that the answer that I have is the same answer as before, which is that in our lives, in our daily lives and in our work, whether it's stories or actual work, I think it's important for us to try to live truly with as much integrity as it is possible to live in a darkly enmeshed, entangled life.

Anyway, so I thank you for listening to this Postscript, but I just wanted to clarify a few things because I had to do it. Okay, for real though. Goodnight. Bye.

Here’s a little fireside chat that details my motivations for writing an open door romance. If you’ve ever wondered why anyone would want to write a spicy, lesbian retelling of Pride and Prejudice, this video contains the answers! I talk about our largest sex organ, imagination, stories, and this iconic scene.

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In this video, I reference:

• Come As You Are, Emily Nagoski

• OMGYES

• The Blue Hour, Laura Pritchett

• Dipsea

• Culture Study Podcast, The Expansive World of Queer Romance

This little fireside chat is NSFW, but I hope my vulnerability will help enable us all to live the healthy and satisfying lives we deserve ❤️ Welcome to my Island.

Meet the cover of When Darcy Met Lizzy, designed by my very talented friend Jessie Broom.

Isn’t she beautiful?!

✨ Preorder now

First, some housekeeping.

Thank you all for contributing to my previous Kickstarter for When Darcy Met Lizzy!

Unfortunately, I didn’t meet my fundraising goal. Kickstarter is an all-or-nothing platform, meaning that your project isn't funded if you don’t meet your goal. This is a good thing and protects artists from having to deliver something if they don’t get funding.

GOOD NEWS! I will still do preorders for When Darcy Met Lizzy via Kickstarter, but instead of printing a limited edition hardback, which would cost $4000 😬, I will stick with a paperback version. I was also generously supported by some of my friends, which will help lower the overall costs. This means that instead of raising $9800, I need to raise $3000 to cover the audiobook cost.

BAD NEWS! If you preordered your copy the first time, you’ll have to order again. This is a major pain in the ass, I know! But you weren’t charged for your previous preorder, and if you still want the book or audiobook, you’ll need to do this anyway, whether it’s on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Audible. So, no matter what, if you want to hear Darcy and Lizzy get it on, you’ll need to do this again 🥵 (p.s. I have never used this emoji so much in my entire life lol).

The moral of the story: sometimes you make budgeting mistakes, and you need to recalibrate. Listen to Angie McMahon tell you it’s okay to make mistakes. I listen almost every day, highly recommend.

✨ Preorder now

So, why preorder via Kickstarter?

You’ll still get the book or the audiobook. If you buy them both together, you get five dollars off. But the only real difference is that if you contribute through Kickstarter and not via Amazon, Jeff Bezos and his cronies won’t get extra money 💸 Don’t get me wrong, they will still get money. But not nearly as much. And I’d rather keep the money raised from queer joy out of the hands of big corporations.

How can I preorder?

Click this link and select the product of your choice! Options include an audiobook performed by the lovely Lilli Hokama or a signed paperback copy.

Now for the good stuff!

Here’s another teaser for When Darcy Met Lizzy. This is the third chapter of When Darcy Met Lizzy. I chose this chapter because it explicitly explores the speculative spin WDML takes on this classic. It’s told from Mr. Darcy’s perspective and focuses on her experience as a “woman gentleman.”

I repeat! I will not be reading the final audiobook. My talented friend, Lilli Hokama will be doing the honors!

So, without further ado, Chapter 3, folks!

DARCY SAW THE young woman with bright, explosive eyes immediately. She was standing with an astonishingly large group of ladies—six at least—but she had them all under her power. Darcy watched as the young woman masterfully conducted the conversation as if it were a symphony, gathering laughter from some and more conversation from others. When an older woman at her side seemed to work herself into hysterics, the young woman managed to dissipate the tension into an easy peace. Darcy had always been envious of people with such social confidence. People who could capture the attention of a whole room, hold it, and return it with more emotion and more joy than before. People who made the party more alive simply because they were there. The young woman was beautiful. She had dark hair that flickered red in the candlelight. And—unusual for a lady—her naturally pale, white skin was tan from the sun, with a dusting of freckles across her flushed cheeks. This woman must spend a lot of her time outside. This didn’t surprise Darcy. It was evident that she had more energy than anyone in her entire group combined, and where can energy go but out into the world?

“Ah,” Bingley said. “That must be Mrs. Bennet and her daughters. I met their father just before I found you in London and dragged you back here with me. He mentioned they’d be here tonight. I think I’ll introduce myself. Come along?”

Darcy shook her head, and Bingley shrugged with a coy smile as if to say, your loss, old friend. He wasted no time crossing the room towards a blonde woman standing beside the woman Darcy most admired. Classic Bingley. He was always drawn to obvious charm, a tiny waist, and an ample bosom. Bingley was easily entertained by a pretty face. He could dance with many women. Darcy had seen him in love before, and she was bound to see it again. Bingley loved love. He loved to find a pretty girl and flirt and smile and dance and be merry, but he never wanted to go much further than the laughter, the exchange of a glove or a flower, or perhaps a kiss on the palm. Commitment was not Bingley’s style.

Darcy wasn’t interested in flirtations or passing glances. Darcy wanted someone to share her life with—not a bevy of women surrounding her, each woman feeling that Darcy might propose at any minute. She hated the drama of it all. What Darcy wanted in a wife was someone who would only need to take one step onto the grounds of Pemberley to understand how the earth changed there and the world grew calm. She wanted her future wife to feel, in her soul, how life made more sense along the river that ran through her estate—as if everything that worried you suddenly disappeared. She wanted to take her wife to that spot where she spent so many childhood afternoons, surrounded only by the sound of water flowing against mossy stones and the faint call of lapwings. She wanted a woman who would understand her home so deeply and profoundly because she understood Darcy so deeply and profoundly. But how could any of the women here in this assembly hall in the village of Meryton ever come close to understanding Darcy?

Darcy looked around the ballroom. These women had probably not traveled more than twenty miles from the house where they were born. Ladies whose entire social circles lived and died within a five-mile radius. Women who knew nothing of the world, of the books she’d read, of the countries she’d seen, of the flavors she’d tasted. These women could never understand what it was like to be one of the few hundred women to attend Cambridge since 1736 when Princess Amelia demanded that her father, King George II, let her wear breeches, marry the woman of her dreams, and decree that any woman who could afford it be free to pursue her education. Yes, it had been seventy years, but women gentlemen were still a minority. In small, rural villages like Meryton, in a ballroom like this one, Darcy felt her skin tighten and her chest constrict when the villagers appraised her from across the room. What do they think of me? she wondered.

Darcy always thought she’d find the woman she’d share her soul with at school or touring the continent, but it turned out that just because a woman had been to Cambridge or joined her for fencing practice, that didn’t always mean that these women wanted other women the way Darcy wanted other women. There were many women gentleman who went to school with Darcy who wore dresses and went on to marry other men. Darcy learned early on that just because a woman was studying to become a solicitor didn’t necessarily mean that she, too, wanted to part open a woman’s mouth with the delicate pressure of her tongue, to pull a woman’s taste into her body and gorge herself on it, the way Darcy did. Of course, some women did want what Darcy wanted, but they never seemed to want it from each other.

In the end, there had only ever been Rebecca. Standing in the dark ballroom, Darcy could still remember the first time she snuck Rebecca into the library after dark—how Darcy’s hand slid along Rebecca’s leg until she felt the heat of her swell against her fingers—what it felt like to push Rebecca against that same desk and kiss her from her earlobe to the place her collarbone met her shoulder. Darcy’s throat grew tight, and her eyes began to pulse. It never ceased to amaze her, even after all these years, that the memory of Rebecca brought such a swell of shame and regret. No, Darcy would not think about Rebecca tonight—not here with these people.

“Come, Darcy,” Bingley said. Darcy had been lost in thought and hadn’t noticed him approach. “Please dance! For the love of God, would it kill you to have just a little bit of fun?!”

“I came to the ball didn’t I, Bingley? Please don’t make me dance as well. Why ask me to do something you and I both know I loathe? You’ll only be disappointed.”

“You and I both know you’re only pretending to be such an ass. Why don’t you give it up for once?” Bingley said.

Darcy ignored him.

“Being your friend is exhausting. Have I ever mentioned that? But Darcy, I must tell you, I’ve never met more beautiful women in my whole life!”

“You’ve found the only beauty in the room,” Darcy said, looking at the blonde woman with the bright smile. Darcy knew that she was the lady Bingley liked most of all, and Darcy also knew that Bingley wanted to see if she approved of his choice.

“Isn’t she breathtaking?!” Bingley blushed and beamed across the ballroom at the beautiful blonde woman, who was now dancing with another gentleman. Then, as if to distract himself, Bingley whispered, “But look! One of her sisters is sitting down just behind you. She’s quite stunning, too.”

Darcy looked behind her to see the woman she’d admired when she first entered the ballroom. She was sitting with her hands folded in her lap. It appeared as though she was looking out at the dance, but Darcy couldn’t help feeling like somehow, out of the corner of her eye, the woman was watching Darcy instead. It unnerved her, this feeling of being secretly observed.

Darcy shrugged, “Not beautiful enough for me. Besides, no other gentlemen are dancing with her. I won’t dance with a woman out of pity.” Darcy looked around the room with disdain. “Even here, I still have my pride. I told you, Bingley, you’re wasting your time with me.”

Bingley threw up his hands in mock frustration and left her. Darcy was safe again. She would not have to dance tonight. The energetic young woman with freckles and bright eyes stood and walked across the hall to her friend, a plain, short woman with intelligent eyes. Both women looked at Darcy and burst into laughter. So she’d heard Darcy. Good, she thought. There was nothing Darcy wanted less than some country woman with no education or intelligence thinking Darcy had any interest in her. The thought was mortifying.

Darcy came from an ancient noble lineage, and her family’s Pemberley estate prospered more and more each year. People said there was something magic in the river that ran through Darcy’s lands that brought wealth and success to all who lived there. But Darcy knew it was not magic. Everything Darcy possessed resulted from her father’s marriage to her mother, the daughter of an earl. Her father married her mother not because he loved her but because she had a large fortune. That fortune had been put to good use, and because of it, Darcy was even wealthier than her parents. Darcy’s father had been practical and left his affairs for his daughter in a better state than he had received them, and Darcy would do the same. Especially because it was her sister, Georgiana’s children, who would inherit Pemberley as Darcy would have no children of her own. At least not now. There was a time when she might have had a child, but she’d missed her chance. The thought of Grace sent longing and grief through Darcy’s body in a wave. What is it about tonight? Darcy thought. Her palms began to shake, and for the second time in the evening, she almost cried. Why was this smoky ballroom dredging up such ancient wounds?

Darcy watched a young man approach the woman with bright eyes. She curtsied and allowed him to whisk her around the room. When she passed Darcy on the dance floor, she looked her straight in the eye and smiled wickedly as if to say, Who said I would have ever wanted to dance with you? Darcy's face flushed, and she tugged at her cravat. Darcy wouldn’t let this woman get under her skin. There was no time for any distractions. She would not make that mistake again. She would marry, and she would marry well. Darcy would do many things to preserve her reputation, but to protect Georgiana and her future children? There was nothing Darcy would not do.

Caroline was also dancing with a handsome young officer. He looked like he’d just been the victor of a historic battle, proudly puffing out his chest, but she kept looking over her shoulder as if hoping no one was watching. After all those years looking for a partner at Eton, then Cambridge and afterward, touring the continent with Bingley, Darcy had decided that the other women like her, the first women to be lords of their class, generally only had two things in common: they were all rich, and they all had fathers who loved them deeply and would let them do whatever they wanted. Caroline Bingley was an example of a woman who wanted women the way Darcy wanted women. Who knew if Caroline would have liked to have gone to Cambridge like Darcy, but her father was in trade and not yet secure enough in his position to risk it on his daughter’s education. Darcy pitied her. She couldn’t imagine what her life would have been like if she’d been unable to go where she wanted or speak to anyone she pleased. But she also didn’t think that Caroline really would have enjoyed the life Darcy led. She seemed content to follow wherever Bingley went. There was a lack of imagination in her aspirations.

Darcy looked around the assembly hall. If women who were to be the next earls and dukes couldn’t satisfy Darcy’s desire to know and be known, how could the women here ever possibly understand her needs? She could never find pleasure in simple smiles and easy company the way Bingley did. In all her life, Darcy had had only three great friendships: Bingley, her cousin Anne de Bourgh, and the other, who she’d rather never think about ever again. Over time, she’d discovered that true friendship, let alone love, was a rare and precious gift. Not something she’d likely find in this stuffy, overcrowded hall with women who all dressed alike and seemed just as pleased to dance with one gentleman as any other. There was no taste, no discernment, and Darcy wanted none of it. Not even the beautiful woman with the bright, intelligent eyes who commanded the room with nothing more than the sound of her voice.

Caroline finished her dance and came up beside her. “What do you think of it all, Darcy? I bet you wish you were still in London, surrounded by more suitable company.”

Darcy said nothing. Caroline wanted to make it clear that she and Darcy were on the same side and that these Meryton people were nothing compared to them. But Darcy didn’t want to be connected to Caroline in the way Caroline wanted, and she hoped that her silence would discourage her. Darcy was still furious with herself for letting that flirtation go further than she’d meant. Now she’d have to spend the entire visit with Bingley ensuring that Caroline didn’t get the wrong idea.

Darcy knew she could never marry Caroline, but sometimes Darcy was so lonely that her skin burned as if she’d been dunked in ice. Sometimes she wished she could go to brothels the way her friends did and come back with stories about which woman was prettiest and which one was the best kisser. Darcy had gone once and paid a handsome sum. But when she’d found herself alone in the room with a blonde beauty, naked under red silk sheets, she’d stood there, frozen. What she wanted couldn’t be taken and couldn’t be paid for. She wanted an exchange, not just a release. She wanted someone to open her the way she opened them, sharing the gift of giving and receiving. Darcy and the woman had played chess instead.

“I have heard the Miss Bennets described as the most beautiful in the country. That’s the eldest there, dancing with Charles. But her younger sister, Elizabeth, I’ve heard, is considered quite the beauty. What do you think, Darcy?”

So Elizabeth was her name, Darcy thought. Elizabeth Bennet. To Caroline, Darcy said nothing and pretended she hadn’t spoken.

Darcy looked at the clock. Very soon, she’d be in the carriage and away from all these people who stared at her. Whether they looked at her for her ten thousand a year or because beneath the coat and trousers, she was a woman, Darcy did not know. And frankly, she did not care. Midnight could not come soon enough.

When Darcy Met Lizzy: Some backstory

You might think I’m exaggerating when I tell you that I think one of the reasons it took me so long to come out was Mr. Darcy. I was raised on the BBC miniseries Pride and Prejudice with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth. My father gifted my mother, an ardent Austen fan, the VHS set for her birthday in 1997. I was seven years old. From then on, whenever my sister or I were sick and we stayed home from school, we’d all curl up on the couch and watch six hours of Regency England. Seven years old is probably a little young to be indoctrinated into the world of romantic comedies (the enemies-to-lovers trope in literally every romantic comedy ever made was started by P&P), but I could not get enough! There was something about Mr. Darcy that captivated me. I loved the way he stared at Elizabeth with such ferocious intensity. I loved his brooding, unsociable manners. I loved how, over time, he grew warm and tender and let his real self shine through.

When Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice was released in 2005, my friends Daria, Joanna, Xiao, and I went to see it on opening night at the local theater. The next day, I went to see the movie with my Mom. I then went to see the movie on my own six different times! I was fifteen years old, didn’t have a car, and I’d walk to the Esquire to see the movie. I loved the tension between Darcy and Lizzy. That hand flex, am I right?

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But growing up, my family and I didn’t just watch Pride and Prejudice. We watched Emma, Sense and Sensibility, Mansfield Park, and Persuasion. And we didn’t just watch these films when we were sick. On Sunday evenings, drinking our root beer, huddled on the blue corduroy couch watching Austen, my mom, my sister, and I all sought something we desperately needed. We each saw a dream that filled a hole in us. I learned to watch movies through my mom’s eyes. Yes, these films were about love—but to me, they were something more. When I watched Mr. Darcy declare his love for Elizabeth Bennet despite her “lack of connections” and dysfunctional family, I saw someone willing to look at a person’s trauma and love them anyway. In Sense and Sensibility, I saw that Elinor’s constant insistence on being good and strong prevented her from being vulnerable and that Marianne’s desire for romance and passion blinded her to real life. These movies made me feel seen; I saw myself in Elizabeth, trying to prove herself in a world of people who didn’t understand her. I saw myself in Elinor, protecting the happiness of others before her own and refusing to follow her own dreams until she broke.

I grew up wanting love! But I didn’t just want love! I wanted Mr. Darcy’s love! This was confusing because even though Colin Firth is, of course, a major babe, he’s not my type.

But there was something in this story that made me feel like it was possible to change! That we really could become more patient, loving, tender versions of ourselves. We really could leave our prejudices and pride behind and see one another for the flawed, complicated humans we are! Dear god, how badly I wanted to believe I could change for the better! That I could change for good!

How When Darcy Met Lizzy all started

So, a few years ago, I started telling everyone that I wanted to adapt Pride and Prejudice but make Mr. Darcy a woman. And everyone kept saying, that doesn’t make any sense! Women couldn’t own land or property! It’s not true to the history! And I kept saying, I don’t care! I want it! But I think a part of me, the part of me that is definitely not like Elizabeth Bennet, really wanted people to approve of my idea and think it was interesting and that I was smart and a super genius. And, since that wasn’t the response I got for my idea, I decided that I wouldn’t write it. At least, this is the excuse I gave myself at the time. When, in all honestly, it’s probably that I didn’t believe in my idea and I didn’t think this book had any value in the world. Why does believing in yourself seem like a herculean effort?!?!?

Then, in January of 2021, I had a massive emergency surgery, and I couldn’t leave my bed for weeks. I was in a lot of pain and pretty existentially depressed. A friend recommended I watch Bridgerton. I initially scoffed at the idea because I thought it was going to make a mockery of the world I loved so much. Boy, was I wrong.

I loved it! I immediately decided two things:

1. I needed a Regency-era suit jacket so I could look just like Simon. (This is being made as we speak by a beautiful and talented human, Bailey Raynor. Thanks Bailey!)

2. Fuck history! Let’s dream up a world—a past, present, and future—where we belong!

While all this was percolating in my mind, I was writing a hybrid memoir-novel about my father’s death from his addiction. I was submitting it to agents and publishers and getting a lot of great feedback and then requests to edit this and refine that. Over time, the process of submitting and writing had become incredibly depressing. I was not only getting rejected after getting my hopes up, but I was also losing sight of what made the book special to me in the first place. I spent so much time trying to make my book appeal to various tastes and desires that it stopped being my book and became just an amorphous blob. And writing was not fun anymore. I didn’t get any joy from it. I avoided writing.

So, last October, I decided to finally write Gay Pride and Prejudice. Not for anyone else, but as an exercise. Could I make writing fun again? Could I go to my desk every day feeling joyful and alive? And the answer was: Hell Yes!

I had SO MUCH FUN writing Gay Pride and Prejudice. Not only have I seen the BBC production and the Joe Wright production more times than any sane person would admit to, but I’ve also read the book more times than I’d like to admit to. I feel so close to Darcy and Lizzy and it was so fun to bring them to life with my own imagination.

p.s. AI made this :) I will pay a real human to make something soon.

The decision to self-publish When Darcy Met Lizzy

I briefly considered printing off Gay P and P, putting it in a drawer, and closing that chapter forever. But I really wanted to share it with the world! And I wanted to share it my way (yes, I am a self-aware control freak).

I wanted to write Pride and Prejudice exactly like the Pride and Prejudice I had grown up loving. If this was a movie or a TV show, it would be considered an adaptation, and it would be much easier to do. But as a book, the fact that When Darcy Met Lizzy so closely follows the traditional plot is a deterrent for publishers. I am technically allowed to do this because Austen is in the public domain, but it’s not something books do. I wanted to keep the plot pretty much exactly the same. I wanted to keep the lines I love so much: you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you, and my good opinion, once lost, is lost forever. I wanted to give little Sammie, glued to the TV in her grandmother’s living room, the gay romance she deserved!

So, because this book is basically glorified fan fiction, and I want to keep it that way, I couldn’t really pursue traditional publishing avenues.

Or maybe you’re not gay; you're just a female-identified person who wants to a different world where you’re not beholden to the patriarchy, and you can be free. If that female-identified person is you, this book is for you, too ❤️

Or, maybe you’re just someone who just wants to read a story about two people who fall in love despite their initial judgments and prejudices, and you want to add some extra spiciness to your life. Then, this book is also for you 🥵

But, more than anything, I just want to bring a little joy to this otherwise pretty dark and depressing world. I want fun! I want playfulness! I want to take the traditional world and turn it upside down! LETS BREAK DOWN WALLS. Even if just in our imagination :)

I could just release this book as an e-book and be done with it and maybe it’s the perfectionist Virgo in me, but I feel like anything that’s done should be done well. So I want to make a beautiful book you can hold in your hand! I want an audiobook version (because who are we kidding? No one really reads anymore anyway), and I want to do it all really, really well.

But that’s expensive! I need to print the hardback copies; I need to pay an editor, I need to pay the recording studio, the actor, etc.… Also, I have to pay taxes on anything I raise through Kickstarter. So, I have to raise 30% more than what I actually need (I really wish I could channel my inner Maggie Gyllenhaal).

In other words, publishing When Darcy Met Lizzy on my own is all really, really expensive. So, I need some help making my dreams come true.

Help me make When Darcy Met Lizzy

Too soon for a political meme 😬?

Before you contribute, here are some things you should know (I am looking at you, my mom’s friends!):

1. This book is NSFW! It’s pretty spicy. I’d like to say that it’s tasteful, but it’s not a “closed door” book, if you know what I mean 🙈 This book is definitely Sapphic Romance with an erotic twist.

2. When Darcy Met Lizzy takes place in a speculative world where women can be gentlemen, gender is fluid, and ladies and non-binary folk get it on. If this content bothers you, you’re probably signed up for the wrong newsletter.

3. This book is for fun! It is for joy! It’s just meant for all you Austen gay nerds out there who are tired and just want to curl up with some comfort food. I am not reinventing the wheel here. I am just trying to put a smile on your face.

If you choose to contribute, please know I don’t take you for granted! It still boggles my mind whenever anyone reads an essay or a poem of mine. I feel so lucky and grateful that, given a world of choices for what to do with your time, anyone would choose to spend time with my work.

If you can’t contribute but like the idea, please share it with all of your rich, gay aunts! If you don’t have any rich gay aunts, share it through the interwebs?

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I love you all so much. Keep your head up! Bring love to the world, if you can <3