Monsters, Matriarchs, and VCFA Magic
What a whirlwind, y’all! (Trying out my Southern here in Asheville—but it still doesn’t roll off my tongue just yet.) I do love it when a born-and-raised Southerner talks to me—oh, that accent! I adore accents, if you didn’t know that about me. Any accent, all of them. If you’ve got one, I’ll listen to you for hours.
But beyond those delicious accents, let’s talk about writing. I’m smack dab in the middle of my first semester at VCFA (Vermont College of Fine Arts), and it’s been nothing short of a beautiful, bone-deep excavation—of my stories, yes, but also of myself. Like peeling away layers of old wallpaper, I’ve been unearthing my voice and the truths I want to share—or maybe even shout.
Spoiler alert: they are feminist, fierce, and sometimes covered in monster skin.
My incredible advisor, K.A. Holt, has been a lantern through this shadowy, sparkly, magic-filled cave. She's honest, generous, and word-smart and believes in me. She holds up the mirror and gently says, "Look. You belong here." It's like having a champion who isn't afraid to call out your strong features while helping you burn down the weak stuff that no longer serves. Her voice has been banned by some, but it is so needed not only by those who are afraid to follow their hearts but also by those just curious about a path not taken.
And honestly, I am still reeling from her book Redwood and Ponytail. That book cracked open my middle school memories with such tenderness. I found myself remembering those younger, more innocent times. It was lovely and heart-wrenching and everything in between.
The biggest revelation of this semester? I think I've stumbled into what my overarching theme might be: the creation of monsters. Feminine ones. Misunderstood ones. Monsters made from abandonment, silence, abuse, expectation, and fear. Mary Shelley knew this story. So did Medusa. So did every girl ever told she was "too much," "too emotional," "too honest," "too tomboyish," "too feminine," "too loud," or just plain wrong for wanting to be free.
When I start thinking about feminine and matriarchal societies, I miss my powerful ells! I used to work with the African elephants (ells) at the Pittsburgh Zoo, and let me tell you: matriarchal power was on full display. Elephants survive by stories passed down through generations of wise females.
They know the power of memory–of sharing stories.
That same spiral of knowing lives in matriarchal story forms today—found in circles, oral traditions, Earth-based myths, and books that bend time instead of conquering it.
These stories don’t fight for power. They share it. They honor it.
I've gotten to read so many excellent books this semester, but one of my favorite quotes is from Mary's Monster: Love, Madness, and How Mary Shelley Created Frankenstein by Lita Judge:
"A great proportion of the misery that wanders, in hideous forms, around the world, is allowed to rise from the negligence of parents."
— Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, 1792
This quote has me questioning: When will we stop fearing the feminine? When will we grow past violence and move toward compassion?
I’m writing an essay right now on Mary Shelley. As a sixteen-year-old girl, society painted her as a monster for loving the "wrong" man—a man who emotionally manipulated her into running away. But she survived. She created. And she questioned everything.
Another favorite quote from Mary's Monster:
"What do Men Know of Creating Life? I am sickened they talk so easily of men, not women, creating life. It is men, not women, who march with armies Across countries, pillaging and burning villages, leaving children to starve."
These stories make you question the rules for girls and women in society—and questioning everything–that’s kind of my motto.
Because everything you think you “know" was just told to you by another human. And humans? We are flawed, fumbling beings trying to figure out this thing called life.
So, why not question it all? Why not start writing your OWN beliefs?
Maybe you’ll peel off some old wallpaper that no longer serves you and then create a new kind of truth—one that finally frees the girls still stuck in the shadows of monsters.
And now go read a book. Or better yet, write one.
Write-on
xo Angie
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