Milkweed

(or The Birth of the Death of the Vampires)

By Susan Blackwell

 

 

PROLOGUE

 

Asclepias (milkweed) is a genus of herbaceous perennial, dicotyledonous plants that

contains over 140 known species. Milkweeds are an important nectar source for bees and other nectar

seeking insects, and a larval food source for monarch butterflies.

 

Milkweed is a common folk remedy used for removing warts. Milkweed sap is applied directly

to the wart several times daily until the wart falls off.

 

Species in the Asclepias genus grow their seeds in pods. These seedpods contain soft

filaments known as either silk or floss. The filaments are attached to individual seeds. When the

seedpod ripens, the seeds are blown by the wind, each carried

by several filaments.

 

--Wikipedia

 

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CHAPTER ONE: SEEDS

Since the night we wrote DIE VAMPIRE DIE at Hunter's kitchen table, we've gotten much feedback about

its restorative effects. Many people have asked about the genesis of the song.

 

In 2002, Hunter and I took a writing workshop with an artist named Lynda Barry. If you don't know Lynda's

work, I recommend that you check out her stuff. She's a total rockstar of a human being and artist. You may

recognize her name because I mention it (excitedly) in the show, or because many of Matt Groening's

books are dedicated to her. You may know her book THE GOOD TIMES ARE KILLING ME (which is also

a play), ONE HUNDRED DEMONS, the novel CRUDDY or her fantastic recorded stories. If you have

any interest in writing, we highly recommend that you take her Writing the Unthinkable workshop. If you're

like us, Lynda Barry will rock your ass eight ways to Sunday. If you have ever toyed with the idea of writing

(or have made your living writing), we can not recommend this course highly enough. But sign up early...it

fills up fast!

 

So, Hunter and I took Lynda's writing workshop at the Omega Institute. Here's the quote from the course

description that lured us in:

 

"When people try to write stories they tend to drag the stories behind them," says writer and

cartoonist Lynda Barry. "They think the story and question it and try to arrange it into something

understandable, which is no fun at all! It makes a person feel exhausted and cranky. The best way

to write is to let the image pull you. You should be water-skiing behind it, not dragging it like

a barge. Writing should take you for a ride."

 

Can you diggit, Monkeys?!!

 

The process that Lynda teaches is so rich and, in many ways, very straightforward: Through a series

of exercises, she relaxes her students into clearing their minds, slowing down and letting the writing

(or doodling or painting or song) bubble up from within, then flow into their hand and onto the page.

(It's less hooky-spooky than I'm making it sound). She gave us practical tools to get out our own way and

release the impulse to control and judge the creative process. She learned this process from her art

teacher at Evergreen State, Marilyn Frasca. Lynda shares it with her students and, in turn, invites them to

pass it along to the world.

 

When she's teaching, Lynda has a stack of cards and materials that she spreads out at the front of the

room. Each card contains a thought or concept or phrase that she may incorporate into her lessons. One of

Lynda's concepts that rocked our bottoms was the notion of identifying and killing your vampires. (My

therapist calls it "cognitive reframing". I call it "my life's work".)

 

We learned so much from Lynda Barry that we have incorporated into our ongoing creative conversations.

[title of show] continues some of those conversations onstage as an extension of our lives offstage.

So, when Jeff and Hunter began writing [title of show], they asked if I'd like to write a song based on the

beloved concept of killing our vampires. Forever fashioned of rhinestones and ham, we decided a

presentational, girl-group theme would be fun. And thus, the song DIE VAMPIRE DIE was born.

 

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CHAPTER TWO: BUTTERFLIES

Every so often, we receive emails like following. Receiving them makes me happier than I can express.

It's thrilling to know that something you've written has had a vampire-killing, wart-thwarting effect.

 

From: Molly

To: fan@titleofshow.com

Subject: Vampires

 

Hey [title of show]!

 

I never got an opportunity to see the show, but I wanted to let you know that I absolutely love this

truly unique cast recording you have created. It is especially inspiring to listen to (Particularly "Die

Vampire, Die") in the month of November, as I was participating in a competition called National

Novel Writing Month, in which you create a 50,000 word novel in 30 days (last year I only got to

20,000, but I wrote it about the difficulties someone was going through to write a novel in one

month. Haha.) I'm so glad I stumbled upon the CD. Good luck in everything in you future and

your present, and again, thank you.

 

Molly

 

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From: Betsy

To: fan@titleofshow.com

Subject: Glad I caught the show when I could!

 

I'm in the middle of my long-untouched SF novel, thanks to your spectacular motivator. *Die

Vampires, Die* is sheer genius.

 

Anyway, thanks again!

 

Back to the novel.

 

Cheers,

 

Betsy

 

************************

 

From: Jeff

To: susan@titleofshow.com

 

I just woke up singing the Vampire song. Swear to God.

 

xoxox

Jeff Marx

 

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CHAPTER THREE: FILAMENTS

So, just when you think your life can't get any better...this email just about made my head a'splode with

molten goodness. I couldn't be more pleased to be referenced in this context. Please take a few minutes

and listen to his speech.

 

From: David

To: fan@titleofshow.com

Subject: Rabblerousing

 

Hello there. My name's David Levithan, and I borrowed your metaphor. To explain: I'm a writer and

editor of books for teens (think, Judy Blume for gay boys). I'm published by Knopf, I travel around a

lot. A few weeks ago, I was speaking at a teen literature conference in Australia and found out

that while the teen lit community in the US is pretty progressive when it comes to LGBT stories,

Australia was surprisingly behind the times -- I was the first out gay male author who'd ever

spoken to them, and I was hearing all the things I most hate to hear from librarians and teachers

and publishers ("I just don't think we can carry a gay book in our library... people would be so

upset...it's so controversial.") So I reached for a metaphor, found your vampires, and rabbleroused.

The Centre for Youth Literature has put up my speech. I just wanted to give you guys a chance to

see the inadvertent inspiration you provided. I honestly had people come up to me after the speech

and say, "Yes, I need to kill the vampires"! I know most people don't think of musicals or teen

novels as being frontline agents of social change, but the truth is, they can be. If there's anything

I can do to repay you for the borrowing of the metaphor, definitely let me know.

 

Thanks again.

 

David

 

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EPILOGUE

 

To: Lynda Barry

From: [title of show]

Subject: Milkweed

 

I am so happy to tell you that we took the packet of seeds you gave us and grew a milkweed!

 

Which attracted the butterflies.

 

And got rid of our warts!

 

Then the pod burst open and those fluffy flosses got picked up by the wind and traveled all over

the map. Some of them even made it to Australia!

 

Thank you for giving us the seeds...

 

Susan Blackwell