I don’t know about you, but the world seems to be getting pretty (insert your favorite colorful word here) intense. While I like to stay informed, I also like to laugh to deal with stress. And, I need some chuckles these days.
Today, the wonderful Rae D. Magdon is here to help us laugh with an embarrassing story. Also, Rae is giving away 1 ecopy of Fur and Fangs: Volumes 1-10. Below the guest post, you’ll find more details about the giveaway.
Take it away, Rae.
Two Lady Macbeths And My Poor, Traumatized Classmates
During my high school career, I was granted the somewhat dubious honor of playing Lady Macbeth—not once, but twice. Perhaps this is because I had no filter as a teenager (still working on that), and thus no fear of performing. My English teachers always gave me the meatier roles when Shakespeare time rolled around. I’m sure it was a relief to have a kid willing to memorize their lines, get up in front of the class, and perform with confidence.
They came to regret their decisions later.
The first time I played Lady Macbeth, I was in 8th grade. I’d moved to a new state and a new private school the year before, and took the opportunity to “reinvent” myself. Yep, this was the start of my high school goth phase: chunky black boots, corset tops, and—important to this story—baggy black pants draped with heavy chains.
I was also experimenting with my sexuality. A few weeks prior to my extremely memorable performance, I became the proud owner of my very own black, see-through lace thong. I save that kind of underwear for special occasions these days, but back then, I wore it whenever it was clean from the wash. It was my “special” underwear and made me feel extremely grown up.
One fine day in class, I had a very special soliloquy: the infamous “Come You Spirits” monologue, where Lady Macbeth talks herself into convincing Macbeth to murder Duncan. Y’all, I worked so hard on that speech. Practicing in front of the mirror. Practicing in the car. My parents probably had it memorized, too. To boost my confidence, I wore my favorite clothes: boots, corset top, chain-laden black pants, and… yes, my brand new, black lace thong that had the consistency of damp cotton candy.
When Act I, Scene V came, I turned to the class, took a dramatic pause, and began my speech with all the passion, greed, and guile a 13-year-old could muster…
… and my pants promptly fell down.
Like, all the way down.
They were much too loose, and thanks to the heavy chains on the bottom (and my undeveloped hips and ass, which came in years later), they decided to peace out. So, there I was, standing before the class in my underwear. Everyone was shocked. To my credit, I pulled them back up and finished my speech. The show must go on!
No one ever said a fucking word to me about it, for which I’m extremely grateful.
The second time I played Lady Macbeth, I was a senior in high school. I still wore goth clothes from time to time, but less frequently, because I had grown into my the overwhelmed, mentally ill college musician identity instead. When the time came to volunteer for roles, I jumped on Lady Macbeth. At last, here was my chance to redeem myself!
While performing for the other classes, the first several Acts went without issue. It’s important to note that we weren’t using a stage, just some basic blocking in our open-plan English department, with some chairs pulled up so the other students could watch.
Then Act V came. If you’ve ever read The Scottish Play, you know that notorious L.M.B dies off-stage. The script calls for a terrified scream as she commits suicide. I had a lot of issues back then: coming out, college auditions, general senior stress. So, I gave it my all. I screamed like I was out in the woods where no one else could hear me. I screamed like I was Prometheus, having my liver ripped out by eagles. I screamed like a murder victim.
Everyone from all the other floors came racing down to see what happened. They assumed something awful had happened, like a student had been in a hospital-worthy accident or worse. The play stopped, and my very embarrassed teacher had to explain that no one had, in fact, died.
Though over a decade has passed since then, when I think about the current state of the world, I often feel like replicating that infamous scream.
by Rae D. Magdon
Riley is a werewolf from rural Georgia, trying to make a new home in the bustling Big Apple. Isabeau is a sexy, computer-savvy vampire dealing with depression and recovering from a bad relationship. When a chance meeting on the subway brings them together, their lives will never be the same.
MEET THE AUTHOR
Rae D. Magdon writes queer speculative fiction. Having published 11 novels and over 300 works of fanfiction, she cares deeply about representing trans folks and women of color.
Her cyberpunk novel, Lucky 7, received the 2019 Golden Crown Literary Award for Science Fiction and a 2019 Rainbow Award for Science Fiction.
CONNECT WITH RAE MAGDON
Thanks so much for stopping by today.