People Who Don’t Know What Genre Their Life Is

By Siona Kirschner

I recently came across the concept that we should all be considering what genre our life is. Like basically, impose the assumption that someone is actually writing your life as opposed to you just being a surprisingly sentient group of atoms on a tiny space rock, and then try to figure out what genre they’re writing your life in. This inspired me to ask my friends what genres they thought their lives were and I got some surprising answers. One person said superhero with impressive certainty, decisiveness, and confidence. I was like, “no, actually, though” (my sense of whimsy is actually very limited). She was like, “Yeah, actually. I think it just hasn’t kicked in yet,” which gave me the impression that she’s waiting for her parents to die because I’ve never heard of a superhero that doesn’t have a tragic/weird backstory. Anyway, not to doubt her because that would be really embarrassing when she’s suddenly holding back a train with her bare hands and manifesting caricatured villains to defeat, but this made me think about people who may not actually have an accurate impression of what genre they’re living in. This inspired me to contemplate how it would go for someone if they thought they were in one genre and truly lived by that while actually being in a completely different genre. Below are some examples of where this thought process led me. 

1. Gary thinks he’s in a chosen one dystopia in which he is the chosen one (He’s way off. Even if he was in a dystopia, he decidedly would not be the chosen one). He’s actually in a coming of age romance. This scene opens at the end of the school day at his aggressively generic high school. Love interest: Hey, what are you up to after school? I have something special to show you. [Gary thinks he’s going to be introduced to The Resistance. She actually wants to show him her favorite parking lot with a great view of the sunset, where they’ll eventually share their first kiss after they both reveal their extremely basic reasons for hating their parents and wanting to get out of “this town.”] Gary: Not much, I just have to hunt food for my family in the woods behind my house. Don’t let that get out though, the government would come for me. I just need to feed my mom and sister and it’s so hard to get meat these days. [By this he means that he doesn’t have a hunting permit, the area behind his house houses an endangered species that he is not allowed to hunt, and he refuses to go to the grocery store when his mother asks him to. He also failed to mention his very much alive father, who’s an ER doctor. In all honesty, Gary has quite a few clues that he’s not in the genre he suspects himself to be in. He’s kind of forcing the narrative here.] Love interest: Wow, I guess we’re both a little weird, huh? I also do things no one else in this boring little town would understand. Come on, I’ll drive. [She’s really trying to keep this story on task. You have to respect the commitment. I personally would sprint in the other direction if I encountered Gary. In all honesty, I hope she finds someone better. It’s a good thing these moody high school love stories often end by flashing forward to them both being married to someone else, still both thinking about their first love an excessive amount.]

   
   

2. Meg thinks she’s in a mystery in which she’ll encounter a crime, go into borderline psychosis solving it, and end up bringing a killer to justice before settling down for a low profile life in which she tries to reconcile what she witnessed. She’s actually on Disney Channel. Quirky Best Friend: Hey Meg… I think I may be in a… situation. Let’s just say someone may or may not have broken Coach Rick’s prized hockey trophy and “someone” may or may not be me. LAUGH TRACK PLAYS Quirky Best Friend: Okay fine… someone did do that and “someone” is in fact me. But I SWEAR I was just trying to do a harmless prank. It would have been my best one yet too! If only that string had been a little stretchier. LAUGH TRACK PLAYS Meg: Coach Rick… trophy… string… Quirky Best Friend, come with me. Did you happen to see a pink bow in Coach Rick’s office? [Meg has at this point pulled Quirky Best Friend into the supply closet where she’s laid out an entire cork board with red twine connecting her “evidence.” A picture of Coach Rick is circled in red marker. She’s definitely committed to the mental breakdown part.] LAUGH TRACK DOES NOT PLAY, AUDIENCE IS UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE PANIC IN MEG’S EYES [Quirky Best Friend does not know how to respond to the supply closet and pulls herself and Meg back out into the hallway.] Quirky Best Friend: Wow, it looks like someone’s losing it a little. Ms. Perez’s Honors English class is really getting to you. And no, I didn’t see a pink bow, but I may or may not have seen divorce papers. Okay fine… I did see divorce papers. LAUGH TRACK PLAYS Quirky Best Friend: No wonder Coach Rick has been so grumpy! That definitely won’t help my case when he finds out I broke his most prized possession. LAUGH TRACK PLAYS Coach Rick: Hey girls! You haven’t seen my hockey trophy anywhere have you? It seems to have disappeared. [This is unfortunately where the scene ends due to the fact that Meg ends up stabbing Coach Rick and claiming that someone had to bring him to justice, because the law never would. Given the disturbing ending to this story, she definitely was the most successful in breaking out of her genre.]

   
   

3. James thinks he’s in a romance movie where he’s the lovable male lead with a bird-watching hobby. He’s actually in a documentary about bird-watchers. I feel like this one explains itself. Poor James.