Below is an excerpt from a fiction book idea that I’ve been playing around with for awhile. I figured I’d post part of it here, just for giggles.
Oria Monarch is a fictional character. She is the leader of Troupe 5750, known generally as, The Troupe. The Troupe is comprised of a talented cadre of singers, musicians, and dancers. It is a female musical group groomed from a long line of talented ensembles dating back over many centuries. Each troupe carries the female voices of their generation and has twenty year runs before auditioning and choosing the next generation of women musical performers from around the globe. All the women chosen represent both the heritage of the musicians who came before them, as well as the next generation of musical greatness.
Oria’s troupe, now in their forties, has already overstayed its run by almost three years. Under attack from rising religious fundamentalism, the new Conservative governmental regime is trying to stamp out creative expression – the kind that Troupe 5750 represents. Oria, her fellow artists, and all women, are being marginalized in this new totalitarian society pushing their agenda under the guise of morality. This is the story of their struggle.
Excerpt -
If I am posting this, it means that the day I have always dreaded has arrived. Today is Wednesday, December 18, 2013. That’s right, I didn’t write this today, [insert date]. I am writing this on the heels of receiving the European Lifetime Achievement Award in Musical Entertainment. You see, the past few years, The Troupe and I have mostly been performing under the radar here in America and more openly abroad. After the ban on female musical and dance performances, our tours here have mainly been comprised of stints in underground clubs. I am writing this after being contacted (in a mostly positive way) by members of my community, some of whom have heard my music for the first time because of the award publicity. I am writing this after realizing that I’m no longer alone in my artistic outpost anymore, among friendly neighbors situated online or on tour. My real life neighbors have found my secret residence, and are peeking through the curtains.
By now, the accusations about my character have been shared, linked, liked, and emailed. I am here to tell you that those accusations are true. I haven’t read all of the subsequent permutations and details that evolve, enhance, and shift with each retelling. It’s too painful for me to read the conversations, so I don’t know how accurate the information is at this point. However, the basic premise is true. I am a heretic. The charges leveled against me are based on events that started almost a decade ago. I am writing this now, on 12/18/13, because when this discovery day actually arrives, I will be a complete mess and probably unable to type my own name, much less write a lengthy acknowledgement of guilt to my accusers.
To my husband and children, I sincerely apologize for causing you the pain and embarrassment you did nothing to deserve. I take all of the blame and responsibility for my behavior. I know that anything good in my life is based on your merit and not my own. To my husband, know that omissions of information were withheld after much agonizing and ongoing internal debate, and also on the advice of my religious counselor, Elder Polk, who by now has lost all credibility in the community because of his support of our efforts. The bottom line still holds true that I did nothing that would render our marriage invalid, but I suppose that depends on your interpretation of the law.
Almost ten years ago I made the decision to oppose the ban on female public performances. I don’t want to go into specific details, so all I will say is that I had reached a point where I was convinced that my place in our current society was over. I checked out emotionally, and was already making plans for a future without the community in which I was raised. At one point, I almost asked my husband for a divorce and was prepared to leave my family, but I chickened out at the eleventh hour. All that being said, it was all plans and fantasy on my part. I was still very much married and living in my community disguised as a law abiding citizen. Nobody knew about my clandestine performances with The Troupe except Elder Polk and those we performed for. As far as everyone else was concerned, we travelled this country and abroad reciting poetry and performing morality plays for female only audiences.
Feeling lonely and isolated, I began a friendship with a man I had met while on tour. He was also in a bad place at that time. Because his livelihood and social standing had also been negatively impacted by the rising Conservative tide, his life was filled with uncertainty and he questioned past choices he had made. Our common unhappiness brought us together, and we would spend hours talking and unburdening ourselves, mostly long distance. This sharing brought an artificial sense of closeness and soon, I began to think that this man was my true soul mate. How could the world be so cruel as to pair us with the wrong partners? I am not going to delve into the psychological changes that happen during affairs, convincing you that true love justifies any type of bad behavior, but I fell into every therapeutic stereotype with my feelings.
The relationship ultimately didn’t last long. When it did end, it came crashing down in an avalanche of pain. The bright future I had imagined with him was now a shattered dream. Additionally, in order to bolster his own reduced social standing, he threatened to go to the community elders and tell them of The Troupe’s heresy – that we were still performing music and dance for audiences of men and women. For a long time, I was incredibly depressed. I had betrayed my cause, my family, and put my entire troupe at risk because of my bad judgment. My negative state of mind lasted for years, even as I plodded forward, defiantly booking tours abroad, where it was easier for women to perform.
I threw myself into work. I threw myself into fleeting dalliances, trying to prove to myself that there was nothing special about my former fickle love – anyone who could inspire those same feelings of hope and understanding. It didn’t work, and only left me feeling more depressed, guilty, and disgusted with myself. I started staying up all night, furiously writing new songs, and performing anonymously at open mike nights in underground nightclubs and seedy bars. I avoided going places during the day and became paranoid. Any time I hadn’t heard from a friend in awhile, I assumed it was because they had found out about my clandestine activities. Off stage, I became a hermit towards everyone but my band mates. My marriage was not good, because my husband was becoming increasingly political, and began to disapprove even of women doing speaking engagements for all female audiences, as he believed I was doing. My main concern was for my children. Everywhere I went, I felt ashamed. In my mind, everyone knew that I was breaking the law.
In my younger days, I used to be fairly outgoing. I was active and involved in school, work, organizations, and with friends. That’s what it’s like to live with a clear conscience. My life is divided up into two distinct segments – before the Laws of Feminine Prohibitions and after. Before the Laws of Feminine Prohibitions, I was a good person who could hold her head up high. After the Laws of Feminine Prohibitions, I was a disloyal adulteress who deserved to die. The friends I made after that time, I felt I didn’t deserve. If they knew the real me, they wouldn’t want me in their lives. I was an imposter.
I am crying as I write this. I can cry instantaneously thinking about how I betrayed my husband, my kids, and myself. I’ve been crying for 10 years, yet I know that not one person would feel sorry for me if they knew the truth. I know I don’t deserve pity, and that I brought this upon myself.
For those who are angry that “I got away with it” for so long, rest assured, I have been suffering every single solitary day of my life since I willfully chose to violate the Prohibitions. I’ve been living with guilt, living with fear, living with shame, living with heart break, and just waiting for the axe to fall. Just know that for many years, I have lived a half-life. I live in constant fear of attracting the attention of the elders. However, despite this, I wouldn’t change anything. I firmly believe that silencing the voice of women is a deadly error, and one which will lead to the downfall of our society. I wish that my family would not have to suffer for my martyrdom, but we live in times of hard choices. I’ve made some very bad decisions along this journey. There is no scenario in this situation where I can play the altruistic or heroic role. Regardless of any good I might have done by continuing my music, I will forever be marked by the bad things I’ve done in order to persevere.
I view my situation almost as one who has been given bad prognosis from a physician. Only in my case, I don’t know how much longer I have to live. It could be 1 day, 10 years, or I might live out my natural life without being outed in my community. All I do know is that this perspective has caused me to view my life as if my time is almost up. That’s why I am appreciating every good moment I have with my husband. I appreciate every second spent with my children. I appreciate every opportunity to do a good deed. With the receiving of my award, the cat’s out of the bag as of today. It’s only a matter of time before I have to face the real music.
Even though I am terrified it might spell my downfall, I am grateful I have had the opportunity to write, sing, and dance for an audience still committed to freedom of expression. It is an honor for me to have had you as a fan, whether you agree with my cause or not. Thank you. In my last days under the radar, I don’t want to spread anymore negativity and hurt. I want to be inclusive, accepting, forgiving, loving. In essence, I want to be the person I wish I would have always been. I hope I have time to accomplish my goals before my discovery day.
All of my old fears and anxieties are coming back full force. I am even terrified to write this now. What if someone finds it on my computer? Why the heck would I write this confession, when there has been no accusation yet? Because in my heart, I know that it’s only a matter of time before I am exposed. It’s only a matter of time before I lose my husband, my kids, my family, and my friends. It’s only a matter of time before this one major transgression destroys me.
Today is that day. I don’t know where I will be tomorrow. Will my husband leave me? Will I have a home? Will my children hate me? Will someone physically assault me over this? Will I be run out of town? Will I still be able to see my children? Will I be thrown in jail? Will my musical comrades be jailed along with me? What will happen now?
My only consolation is the hope that some of the pain I am enduring in this life will be credited to me in the next. If you can find it in your heart to do so, pray for me and my family.
