Music

2 posts

In My Body, In My Mind

Essays On Creating Personal

Using one’s body to work through trauma, stress, and challenges is a valid therapy. Some people run or hike. Some people work out, lifting weights. I like doing that, too. Some people play sports, or swim.

I dance.

I’ve been dancing since I was tiny. I took ballet and tap classes while we could afford them, and even after I had to stop, I continued on with my exercises, and I made my own cute little choreographies, too. Body movement was an important was for me to work through anger and frustration and other big feelings, and to express joy, too. And dance let me feel like I was inside the music I chose, in a different way than singing did.

In high school I was part of a dance troupe, where we choreographed dances to pop songs and would perform them anywhere possible at the drop of a hat. That was when Michael Jackson’s Thriller was big, and we learned that dance and would dress up and perform for parties and the like. It was a ton of fun, and when it was time to go off to college, I continued my dance studies. I took modern dance and ballet. I knew ballet wasn’t a serious option for moving forward but it’s a great foundation for movement and control. I glowed when my teacher told me I had “great feet” because I’d worked hard on keeping my basics.

Dance got me through the hard parts of those times. It kept demons at bay growing up, or at least it tried; it gave me a way to control a tiny part of a life that was spiraling out of control while I watched everything crash down around me in college. When I discovered dance clubs, and then the all-night members-only fallen paradise that was my Friday night retreat, I finally felt like I could dance some of the pain and trauma out of my body, casting spells on the disco light illuminated floor with my feet as my arms traced out graceful symbols. I would stay until the sun rose, blinking in the bright light before wandering off with all my other dusty-black clothed friends in search of breakfast.

I’ve been chasing that feeling ever since.

I haunted various goth/industrial/synth oriented club nights for a while, then became the caretaker of one as well as a DJ, traveling to some of the clubs that I’d participated in as an attendee before I was able to add to the magic myself. I was known as a “floor starter,” someone who wouldn’t hesitate to get out there all by myself to dance–and often helping to draw other people to the floor as well. I generally have no shame when it comes to art, and dancing is a lot of things but most definitely is an art. You don’t have to be fancy to dance well, but you do have to let yourself express the music without worrying what you look like. Losing yourself in the tune, the rhythm, the vibe: that’s when you’re at your best as a dancer. I conveyed the joy of moving to the music in a way that drew other people to join me. That’s also a form of magic. Curating the music, creating the vibe, inviting others to join: alchemy.

I make music. I’ve always sang, always danced, always been entranced by what music brings to us. It’s a form of connection, creation, expression, communication. I want to lose myself in it; I want to offer myself up to it. I want to feel it move through me and move my body, not in possession but in partnership.

When I’m in my body like that, I’m fully in my mind too.

Dancing puts me in a kind of trance but it’s not an out-of-body experience, it’s being as at-one with my body as I could possibly be. My brain benefits from those moments, becoming refreshed, then inspired. It’s why one of the most common pieces of advice that I give writers that are dealing with creative blocks is to get up and dance, or chair dance if that’s not an option. Pick music that demands that you connect your body to it and let it lead you out of your blocked place and into something fresh and energized.

This is why all my books have soundtracks, by the way. I use that music to put me into the mood, to define the vibe of the chapter I’ve associated it with, and to express that energy to the reader. Music is shorthand for emotion and by sharing it, I’m offering you mental insight into the scene that might already be expressed in words but is always heightened by the inclusion of the tune that helped shape it.

Now if you don’t mind me, I’m going to turn on my tiny disco lights and move across the room to some beautiful songs.

Now You’re Not A Baby Doll

On Creating Uncategorized Writing

So who is this Christiane person, anyway?

So here I am, talking to you like we’ve just run into each other in the halls at a con, or waiting in line to get into a show, or wherever you might see me and feel bored enough to ask a bunch of questions about who I am and what makes me the person I am. Why? [Why not!]

I’ve got a Bio page, but that’s just got the “writer” stuff on it, and I’m a big believer in connection as a full contact sport. No, not like football, more like jumping into the pit at a punk show.

So that’s a great place to start, actually – I DO NOT do sports. I always say: if you see me running, then you should run, too, because something is definitely chasing me! However, I not only love dancing with every fiber of my being, I actually minored in Dance in college. [Theater major, because I am obviously into things just for the money, right?]
I’ve talked at length about how I got into being involved with the Goth/Industrial/Electronica subgenres and built myself a small career as a DJ and promoter for a while that way, so I won’t go through the whole story now. But you need to know that my direct progression involved music and dance in school > discovering the joy of going to punk shows and the freedom of everything it brought > finding alternative dance nights at clubs that gave me the confidence to really pursue the things that give me joy.

I’ve always loved writing, music, and performance. For someone who spent a great deal of time in her own head while growing up, I managed to still excel at being dramatic – to the point where I knew that I wanted a public-facing job when I grew up. I played at being a radio DJ, introducing the 45s I’d play for myself as I recorded my own mixtapes, learning bits of trivia about the bands I liked to “reveal” to the audience. I also made my own dramas and musicals, did my own costuming, and wrote my own scripts, all to be performed by and for myself in my room. [I liked sheets for sweeping togas, capes, and skirts.] And I dreamed about fronting a band, and probably shook the house at inappropriate hours while practicing my vocal stylings. Come to think of it, I still do.

So falling into Theater was obvious, and I pursued that and music and dance, and found myself more and more frustrated as I ran against what I was expected to be, rather than what I am.

Punk was the antidote.

When I discovered punk, I learned that there was a world where it was a lot easier to be who and what I wanted to be. There was still pushback to some degree and plenty of -isms, but the culture was set up in a way that gave me more freedom to speak out against them, and show anger in general. In the 80s, it was still tough to be an angry woman, an individual, a rule-breaker, and not be penalized in every aspect of life. Punk mostly didn’t care. I thrived in that scene, and I grew comfortable in my own skin.

Posing with my beloved friend Faron, 1987ish? Fully feeling myself here.

That led me to finding more Post-Punk and Alternative music and going to clubs that played those genres, too. Suddenly, I was at a show or a club every week, absorbing even more music and being exposed to a wide variety of culture and art, and I loved it all. My outfits got more dramatic, slowly verging into a decidedly Goth aesthetic, which then blended with my everyday look forever. Seriously, I’m still basically wearing the same stuff, just the more casual versions. Long black skirt and band tee, with a hoodie or cardigan and Docs? Yep, that’s me.

And that phase, my friends, shaped everything else in my life. I found the people who appreciated my aesthetic, my words, and eventually the music I wanted to make. I started publishing ‘zines and contributing to others, and I became a small time club DJ around the East Coast of the US, centered in VA/DC/MD.

A lot of In Sleep You Know is fueled by these experiences. It references clubs I went to regularly, music I love, and the subcultures of which I’m a part. It also reflects the wonder I felt when I started coming to the city and discovered a place where I belonged, and all the magic and weirdness I learned to see and accept without question. Merrick Moore, the main character, is in many ways who I was when I first roosted in Baltimore City: a aimless dreamer accepting of the beautiful and odd people randomly met along the way. Someone game to roll with strange happenings, because deep in our heart, that was we always hoped to find.

Me and Merrick, we’re the dreamers here.

In the harshness of daylight, we might have a harder time buying into the weirdness than we did under cover of night. But those experiences changed me, shaped and reinforced my sense of whimsy and wonder and possibility, and gave me a lot of fodder for the things I write about now! And now you get to see how they shape Merrick, too. *

If you like reading true tales of my strange adventures that are 100% unvarnished and often ridiculous, let me know. I have so many shareable snippets! Not everything is going to make it into my books, right?

* NotASpoiler: it’s a bit different than how things went down for me.
ps: Post Title is a snippet of song lyric from “Baby Doll” by Ruin, a Philly punk band that meant a lot to me back in the day.
pps: I updated this post a tiny bit in 2026 but only to reflect that ISYK is out