Jared Axelrod interviews the creators of Welcome to Nightvale about diversity, casting actors, their fanbase and their touring live show.
From the interview:
Welcome To Night Vale seems to have a young fan base, a lot people in their teens and early 20s. Did that surprise you guys?
JC: We did not expect that all. We never had any inclination that there would ever be a fan base for the show. We just always thought, let’s just hope there’s a bunch of people who like listening to the show. But when it went into having a giant fandom, that fandom originated on Tumblr. Tumblr seems to skew younger, in terms of people who use Tumblr, and that made for a younger audience base for our show—which is awesome. I say “audience base” as if it’s a marketing term I’m familiar with, or that we ever thought in terms of that, which we didn’t. It’s really cool to look in the audience and see people who look nothing like us and who are really excited about our show. That’s really nice.
This is how it feels when you master certain tools in photoshop. You realize your power, and must confront your darkest nature.
I decided I was only going to use my powers for good. But oh, little kittens, oh, the temptation.
“Covertly fighting an invasion of flesh-eating alien body-snatchers with the help of your basic human schemers plus secret vampires and other hidden supernatural elements amid the decadent court of Louis XV sounds boring!”
Said no one, ever.
Court/Ship is one of those concepts which you can look at, peer at from all sides, and wonder what on earth lead to someone having this idea.
Any sort of recompense after the fact is going to be met with resistance. Gropers are usually people who are charming otherwise, and used to getting away with things. There will be people who come to their defense, because they don’t fit the image of a sexual predator. They’re a nice guy. They were just drunk. It’s not going to happen again. That’s him being him.
Hey, you. You turning 18, 21, 25, 30, 46. You’re not old.
Oh, you might FEEL old, you might be the eldest of your peers, you might not be considered young, but you aren’t old. Not yet.
You don’t get to be old until people stop saying that you’ve died young.
If you keeled over today, if you were eaten by wolverines or aliens blew up your civic, and people say “Oh, they died so young!” they you aren’t old.
One does not simply jump from Young to Old. There is an ocean between, an entire ocean filled with fish and taxes and love and awful mistakes and dreams and horrible bosses and inspirational people and librarians and job searches and home repair and thousands of lunches. The ocean is called adulthood. It is during adulthood when you are neither Young nor Old, but a grown human.
Our culture sends us on the pursuit of young, hoping to distract us from adulthood. If we realized we were adults, we might become aware of our power. We might become dangerous.
There is a fear of old, as if wisdom were poison. But there is power in adulthood, in knowing yourself, in accepting your history. There is wisdom in the years you’ve had, and the years, may they be many, yet to come.
There is an episode of the Justice League cartoon where the Flash meets one of his villains in a bar. The villain has been up to no good and the Flash decides to have a talk with him. “James,” he says, “You’re wearing the suit again.”
The man looks down and finds, to his surprise, that yes, in fact, he is wearing his supervillain suit again. Sure, he was out shooting at superheroes and conspiring with other villains, but in the course of all that, he didn’t realize, not fully that he was wearing the suit again, and thus, fallen back to his villain ways.
I identify with this more than I like. I make the same artistic mistake, over and over.
Of everything I’ve done, it’s the work that I’ve done for myself, where I’ve owned the results, that I’ve found the most rewarding. Yet again and again I find myself doing work for other people without the time to fit in my own projects. It’s not that there isn’t a place in my artistic life for collaboration or work for others, but I need to make sure that my projects come first.
This is a lesson that I know in my head. Still, I find myself making the same mistake, working entirely for other people and throwing myself into their projects. I look down, and I’m knee deep in work for someone else without any time for my own stuff. I’m wearing the suit again.
I was recently reminded by a friend that I’m wearing the suit again. I’ve worn it so much that it’s comfortable, that it feels safe, but in the end, I’m not happy in the suit, and I need to get out of it.
I need to be my own hero. I need to see the suit.