Thursday, 5 February 2015

1989 Blank Spaces feat. Blank Space

What a cryptic title. Today I'm trying out a nifty little idea (I sound like someone's Dad, ugh) where I try to put the tracklist of an album into a coherent story. I haven't decided yet whether it has to be in order. I'll try it that way first. This week I'm using 1989 by Taylor Swift. 

"Welcome to New York," said the bouncer in a way that made it clear just how unwelcome she was. Evie yanked her luggage out of the taxi that had pulled up right outside the building and skidded to a stop. Not off to a good start with the bouncer, that was for sure. She nodded, not sure what else to do, and walked in after identifying herself. 

She walked past room after room up flight after flight of stairs, all with nametags on their doors. Some of the names she'd never heard before, including one she thought was a joke when she saw it: Longforia Lettering. Remove one letter and it could almost be a font, she thought, then felt bad. She couldn't remember exactly where she was after a while, but it was alright because hers was the only door that held nothing on the placard but a Blank Space

She quickly sorted her stuff into drawers and then got into a figure-hugging red dress with sequins on the shoulders, fully intending to debut in Style. She propped her battered old cushion up on the side of the bed and left the room, just a second too early to hear it fall off the bed with a soft thud.

She met the other girls in what looked like a dining room. The bouncer may have been rude, but their host certainly wasn't. An effeminate man with coiffed hair greeted them warmly, welcoming them to the week-long camp. Once he left, though, divisions began to emerge. A small girl with a disproportionately loud voice fixed her gaze on the tall, quiet girl beside Evie. "Look what the cat dragged Out of the Woods," she said, smirking. 

The tall girl sighed. "You are quite possibly the biggest stereotype I've ever met." That shut the loud one up. 

The camp was great, Evie thought. All You Had to Do was Stay in your room until 8 a.m., when the fun begin. It was some crazy attempt to put a book together in a week working as a team, but the fun of it was the main thing. Or so she'd been told. 

The catfights continued, eventually getting around to Evie herself.

Shake it Off, she thought to herself as the whispering faded behind her. You can do better than them. I Wish You Would grow up, she mentally said to them. Their imaginary reaction was very satisfying.

She didn't really care, to be quite honest. The day before, she'd been voted Captain, so the vocal minority who disliked her could stick it up -- she should probably go back to work on the project.

They spent a lot of time doing it, sure, but time seemed to dilate as well. Staying up until the early hours became natural, and they weren't even too tired afterwards. There was Bad Blood between the camp leader and the bouncer, which amused her greatly. 

Then something happened that surpassed even her Wildest Dreams of the camp (and wow, had she had a lot of dreams). Rain (or Awcy, as his friends supposedly called him for some unfathomable reason) came at her like a manual on How You Get the Girl, and she fell for it. This Love, she knew, was like nothing she'd ever felt before. What a cliché, as the tall girl who introduced herself as Rachel, had said. It really was, but it was a fun cliché. 

Unfortunately, it blossomed on her second-last day at camp, and they had to part. But Rain didn't let go. 

"I'm going to miss you," she said. 

"I Know Places we can be together," he said, suave as ever. "And never be parted."

Her rational side sniggered at how ridiculous this was, but she went along with it because what did she have to lose? "We'll meet again," she said. "And stay."

It wasn't quite a Clean break, she had to admit, but it was something. And as she left Wonderland for her mundane life a thousand miles away, she said to herself: You Are in Love. 

We are the New Romantics, and we will find a way.


Okay, bear in mind this wasn't meant to be a fiction-writing exercise so it's fanfiction-level writing, but I got them all in there so go me! Let me know if I should do this again next week, and you can pick the album. 


  1. Okay, I've got three things:
    Firstly, this was really good and really cool. You should certainly do it again next week.
    Secondly, if you do it again next week, you should use the album Fire Within by Birdy.
    Finally, what did you mean that since it wasn't a fiction-writing exercise, this story is fanfiction-level writing?

  2. 1. Thank you!
    2. Oh, awesome - I actually bought that album a while ago. Will do.
    3. I'm not insulting fanfic-writers (I used to be one myself), just acknowledging that this came out like the wish-fulfilment/romance ones that aren't particularly well-written because they're written for a different purpose (theirs for personal gratification, mine to fit into the tracklist).

    1. Okay. I just wasn't sure what you meant.