Hey bae
Day 1
Hey bae. Welcome to the new book. I’m Teresa, and we’ll be together for a little bit each day—maybe for years—or maybe just for a moment. You know, a quickie. Maybe we’ll have a torrid rush of a tear of an experience together then you’ll toss me away. Whatever. It all suits me the same, so long as you get what you want.
So I’m me, Teresa Van Santāna. Teresa like Theresa. Van like a van you can drive (but meaning ‘from’), and Santāna like sahn-TAWN-ah. It’s Sanskrit and means something like linearity, continuity, consciousness—but don’t worry about it.
And you. Who will you be while we’re together? You can be me, if you want. I’ll do a decent job of letting you inside so you can experience a bit of what it’s like to be T. You know, me. T for Teresa. Or you can be you, just as you are or just as you wish to be. Or you can be literally anybody you can think of. Your imagination and willingness to follow it are the only limits. Go ahead. Be who you want with me. I won’t tell. It’ll be our little secret.
The best thing about this is that if you don’t like what you picked, you can always just reset. Set the book on your belly, spine up, or to one side. Take a few deep breaths, then pick it up again. You can go back to the beginning, to the map (we’ll get to the map in just a sec, babe, I promise), or to the last part you enjoyed. This is for you, baby. I wanna make it pleasurable for you, and that might be different from moment to moment. I’m totally down for that, totally cool.
What’s up with the title?
So some folks (like me) enjoy wondering over a title until it makes sense. If you’re one of those, just skip down to the next section. I’ll meet you there with one of those looks, like when you look up and your hair is framing your face all cute and I smile at you—kina like I wanna fuck you, but you’re not sure, and you maybe hope so, but you don’t know yet. It’s still too soon, and maybe I’m just being nice. One of those looks. See you then.
If you’re still reading, imma take that as spoiler consent, that you want to know the meaning of the title right-effing-now, dammit. Well, okay! Damn. Chill, babe. Here we go.
It’s called Teresa’s Backbone for a few different reasons. The obvi is that I’m Teresa, right? That part is plain. The backbone part is the tricky piece.
The backbone is the literal structure of the book, the fulcrum of the body of text, and where all the commands flow through. It’s also the work’s greatest strength. Without it, no movement, no upright posture; none of that stuff that will get us around and in fine shape.
It’s also about courage. The courage to be yourself. Me, yeah, I guess cos my name is on the marquee in the title. But really I mean you, babe. The reader-player.
Wait, you ask, what’s this reader-player shit? I’m not down for games, you might say. Well you don’t have to play if you don’t want. You can just ride along and watch, you know, if that’s your thing. It’s no biggie. Just skip the game-y parts. But if you wanna play with me, well you can do that too. I’ll make it easy for you. Relatively painless. But it might require some backbone on your part. You may have to stand up to yourself, to your own inertness, your own laziness, your own hypnotic habit of just staring at something and being entertained. It will be worth it, you know, probably. Every relationship is a risk, right? So we never know for sure. But I think you’ll dig it cos you can do it any way you want. However you want to be together in this book, we can do it.
How to read the book
If you want to read it like a regular book, you can do that. Just turn off your critical thinking, drop into the immersive world of the pages, and take the ride. Leave a review on Amazon for your girl, okay? Four star minimum or what the fuck. And post about it on social media or whatever, okay? TikTok, preferably. Gotta get that viral, word-of-mouth marketing.
If you’d rather go for the deluxe experience, we have a couple other options for you centering around the map. Oh, I said it again, didn’t I? Whoops. Here, let me just show it to you, babe:
You’re like, babe, that’s not a map. That’s a bunch of tattoos.
And then I’m all like, well, yeah. But it’s also a map. Cos each one goes to a different place in the book.
Like a table of contents, you say.
Correctamundo, I say.
To which you simply arch an eyebrow.
The Locales
So, spoiler-alert, there will be more maps. I am literally writing this book as you are reading it. Well, potentially. If you’re an early adopter, a TVS stan or whatever. Or just, you know, a really kind friend. If you’re coming to this years later or after I’m dead or whatever, then obviously not. But that’s the cool thing about books, mah dudes, is that you can experience it as if it were actually happening. So that’s part of it, right, the co-creation experience, taking in the work as it’s being made and interacting with it, making it your own.
Having said that, please mark up my back there. Make the map your own. Write page numbers you really like and the ones you hope to never read again. Just make sure you label them clearly. Unless you’re an e-reader, in which case, you’re shit outta luck. But don’t fret. I’ll help, babe. I’m not gonna leave you hangin’. More maps will come. But don’t be afraid to write on me, to make notes and stimulate my back skin or whatever.
You say, Locales?
And I’m like, huh? Oh! Right, yeah, locales. Each one of these words on my back and ass are different locations in the book herself and in the story.
Now, when I say “story,” I mean this story, the story of this book right here in your lovely hands. Or in front of your eyes or whatever. Each of the words there on the map refers to another thing that already exists, so we’ll be going there together. That’s the story. The new one, I mean. This one, for this book. It’s our trip there together.
If it’s all new, then you are in for some wild shit, bae. Or if that’s too much, just say, and we'll go back to my place and chill. We can read books together and watch tee vee and movies and fuck or whatever. It’s cool. Should I not say ‘fuck’ so much? Should I say it more? Should we do it more? I’ve got you covered.
If at any point you’re like, I got it, T, let’s get the fuck on with it, just come to the map, pick where you want to go, and then go there. Or, if you’re real sassy and are like, I’m over it, T, then chill chill chill and go to New Story below. Jeez. So finicky, so uptight, bae.
But T, you say. How can I go there if it hasn’t been written yet?
I bat my eyes at you and say, you’re so smart, babe. But they are there, remember? Links are given for those who are playing online. If you’ve got it in your hand, then there you go.
Locales, T, you say impatiently.
Right right right. Focus, T, focus!
Here they are:
This is a mysterious living city. Sometimes people get confused about what genre these stories are. Please don’t worry about it. Other times people get upset about continuity. Please don’t sweat that either. Your girl has put a lot of time and thought into this, and it will all gradually unfold in front of you. Just read several stories, and you will start to get the vibe. Once you have the vibe, your mind will start to do most of the heavy lifting for you. And remember, I’m right here with you! So if you have any questions, just ask me, babe.
So this is set in the Secretsverse.
What the fuck is the Secretsverse? you go.
Don’t … worry about it, I say. But if you must, look further down my back there, right above the panty line and see the Secret of Secrets. That’s the megaseries superstructure that all the Secret stories are, like, housed under? See why I said don’t worry about it?
Ostensibly they’re all set in the Thirty-Second Century and I’m, like, a private master secretist or whatever. I eventually can travel in time and read minds and shit, but we’re getting bogged down in confusing details. Don’t sweat it.
Just think of it this way: No One Ever Knows Why is an anthology of speculative fiction (i.e., science fiction, fantasy, and horror) stories by me, T Van Santāna. They all seem unrelated at first, but I promise they all make sense together when the book is done—just like all this insanity will, too. Backbone, remember? You’ve gotta stand up to your fear, frustration, and confusion! It’s not that hard really. It’s relaxing into it, babe. Loosening up.
Okay, next one …
Ay yai yai, SOMA, babe. Okay, let’s keep it simple. This locale is, like, a bunch of different fragments, a bunch of different stories, but all set in the same place, which is the Lost City of Soma. Where is Soma? Well, it’s inside me. Like literally within my cells. So if you’ve ever wanted to get inside me … what? What’d I say?
Trouble is, I get trapped in this sub-locale called the Library Eternal. Did I rip that idea from Borges? You decide! It came to me in kind of a dream, as I recall, during this other Secrets book I was writing, but there is most def a similarity. And I have since read “The Library of Babel,” so it’s definitely influenced my understanding by now. Ooo, we should totally read that together. In bed, maybe, with some coffee.
Smut.
Then there’s, well … the smutty stuff. I studied at the online feet of Tess Mackenzie—who insofar as I can tell coined the term ‘literary smut,’ which I supremely dig. So we can maybe read some of her stuff together. And then, you know, do it. Or you can look at mine. I’ll show it to you. All of it, if you want. Or I can keep some of it hidden, if that’s more exciting. Just say it, babe, and I’m down.
New Story
This is the all-new ‘tent. Well, technically it’s all ‘all-new’ because we’ve never done this before. But legally it might be considered derivative content? I’m not sure. I’m not a lawyer, despite everything my grandmother wished for me. But anyway, this is the new story proper, where we’re going to have an entirely new set of stories that together will form the main narrative. That’s what reviewers will say, anyway. You and I know the truth, baby, that this whole book and every version of it we make together, that’s the real deal. They can suck it, and you and I will have fun together right under their noses. Or behind their backs. Whichever feels hotter. Or cooler. It’s whatever. I’m chill.
Day 1 of both National Novel Writing Month 2022 and The Teresa Van Santāna Literary-Somatic Experience
