Back then, it's true that I knew, just knew, that I liked girls instead of boys, knew in a way that meant more than just not wanting to kiss poor Bobbie Ruskin. I held this secret to the soundtrack of the strange skipping songs and the dull, rythmic thwack thwack of third grade ever-enders. Caitlyn Fisher, "Dare," These Waves of Girls.
The multi-linear narratives recount memories of "girlhood, cruelty, childhood play and sexuality." For all its preoccupation with different modes of representation, concocting a multi-mimetic recipe with pinches of erotica, smidges of adolescent memories, handfuls of feminist theory, dashes of digital images, splashes of cinematic animation, and plenty of poetic prose, the opening passage of These Waves of Girls is a significant declaration of the modus operandi of the whole of the substantial "hypermedia novella" that is to follow. From the outset there is a subtle but significant awareness of the multi-mimetic possibilities available to represent becoming "diverse girlhoods." (See fig.1).
I used to say I came out like film in the developing room - everything, dark, hot quiet. No one to know at the darkroom curtain. No rushing the process. No process doubt about outcome. I love to eat Lick-a-Maid, dipping the little candy stick in tart sprinkles and sucking them off. Years later I wonder why on earth they called it Lick-a-Maid. I search everywhere for it - 7-11s, small depaneurs, friends' memories. Maybe I made it up.[...] The playgirl cartoon was dark and mean and a dominatrix- that's what I think now, anyway. [...] Then, who knows? The Playboy cartoon girl was from the corn belt, wide-eyed, wearing plaid halter tops and here's the part I'll swear by but can't prove - all those back issues long gone (over half of them at once, me lugging them in shopping bags to the Dalewood Park comic book sale about 5 kids ages 6 to 8 looking for Spiderman, no one buying, until someone's older brother hears there's an 11 year old girl selling off stacks of pornography "hey Jonathon, Marcus get OVER HERE!!!" - but that's not the story I want to tell.)...
The performative space which unfolds is built on memory, metaphor, and representation. Tracey's sexuality is disclosed "like film in the developing room," the past is obscure, "Maybe I made it up," "That's what I think now, anyway. Then, who knows;" and the representation of the narrative is distinctly subjective, "here's the part I'll swear by but can't prove," and "that's not the story I want to tell."
