on the cutting room floor: ep 2

This is episode two of on the cutting room floor, my idea for a post-mortem / debrief / expansion / accompaniment to TXF posts. This one will be very short, so I’ll jump right in!

Sunken Buoy, (or Ophelia’s Lament) was very much inspired by two landscapes in my life: (i) where I lived during my early childhood and (ii) my alma mater. Despite drawing heavily from these experiences, I chose not to emplace the narrative. Rather than writing with pinpoint accuracy about these different places, I wanted freedom to manipulate and, indeed, to stereotype, leaving room for magical realism to creep into the story.

The accompanying playlist to this episode expands on the magical realism elements of the story.

Choosing a title is one of the parts of the creative process that I struggle with the most. Oddly, Sunken Buoy was an exception to that; I’ve had the title ready since the story was just a vague idea. When a title presents itself to me as this one did, I tend not to argue with it.

I like the idea of the body as a buoy on the water. It reminds me of being pulled behind my grandparents’ boat in the summer as a child, skipping like a rock across the brackish lake waters. And when my arms were tired and the boat would slow, how I would float on my back, eyes shut, drifting just like one of the buoys.

As the subtitle alludes to, I named my protagonist, Lia, after the character of Ophelia in Hamlet despite never reading or seeing the play.¹ I have always loved Millais’ painting of Ophelia, though, and I love looking for that motif in other visuals. Millais’ Ophelia, with her open eyes and upturned palms, reminds me far more of summers at the lake or playing in the creek than it does the word ‘drowned.’ Her repose is peaceful; an exhale and nothing more.

I’d love to get responses on the story itself or directions to other resonant images, so send a reply email or leave a comment by visiting the website!

1 It just wouldn’t be a TXF post without a footnote… Since I haven’t read Hamlet, here’s an essay by someone who has, and whose feelings for Ophelia echo my feelings for Antigone.