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This is the Last Story: SIX STORIES and Goodbyes
This is the last story.
Six Stories, Told at Night wrapped up last week. It’s been quite a ride, and a huge learning curve. The numbers keep rising – after three weeks, it’s performed better than I dared hope. You guys have been great, and I’m incredibly proud of what we accomplished.
And I have something I’d like to say.
This is the last story. Maybe if I type that often enough now, it won’t break my heart when the time really comes.
Six Stories, Told at Night is my last fiction podcast. Sure, there may be one-offs here and there—I’m still slated to write/produce a Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences story this fall, and Blythe and I are recording a wrap-up show tonight. While I’m happy to write for other people, this is the last major story, the last story that’s wholly mine, for a while.
Nothing has happened. There was no disaster, no sudden break. Six Stories, Told at Night was always conceived as my last, always planned as my “…gift, song, blessing, and also, farewell.” This is why I wanted the grant—why I wanted to hire artists for custom music and art, why I wanted to finally pay Blythe what she’s worth, and why I wanted to take home a little cash as well. This is my last huzzah: my swan song. I wanted to go out with a bang.
This is the story of two girls…They’re two friends, two modern-day girls. How modern do we want this from the start? Pretty modern, I would think, crossing and re-crossing the fairy tale boundary. Joëlle is older, of course. Probably 3-4 years older: enough that they can still be friends, enough that there’s still a gap.
This decision was not an easy one, but it’s been in the works for nearly two years. Coxwood, then a last Ministry piece, then the “Folklore Grant Project,” and then hiatus. That was always the plan. My personal plot arc has been building to this for a while; I’ve just not said anything.
Why, though?
The short answer: because it’s time.
The Storyteller is the folklorist, cataloguing the stories, collecting them, a little more cautious. Joëlle is the transmedia artist, podcasting, Kickstarting, making friends and hitting the town. And she wonders if she can get into Story, that shadowy place from whence it all comes.
The longer answer: when I started producing my first podcast back in 2011, I had clearly defined goals. I wanted to learn to tell stories through sound. I wanted to get my name out, build a platform, and meet people.
Five years on, and I have done these things.

Balticon 2015: I ADORE these gentlemen. And Alex White (on the right) composed the theme for SIX STORIES, TOLD AT NIGHT.
“But why stop?” I hear people asking. “Even if you met your goals, why not keep going?”
Every podcast has to grow from the one before it. Otherwise, you stagnate. With every story, every piece, you should be doing something new, or there’s no point. For me, I’m at the point with podcasting where the next step—the next learning curve from this comfortable plateau—is to be doing audio dramas on the level of Bryan Lincoln. These are audio dramas that approach movie soundtrack quality. They’re really, really cool.
I don’t want to do those.
I don’t want to do those because then I wouldn’t write as much. Now, I love audio. It has taught me a lot and it’s a hell of a lot of fun. But at the end of the day, I’m not an audio artist. Not really. I’m a writer. Novels, short stories, and stage plays are where my passions truly lie. So if audio becomes a choice between stepping up and stepping back—well, I have to step back.
And the thing the Storyteller learns—Story is already inside of us. So to reach Jöelle, she needs to keep looking inside. To their stories.
So I got my name out there. I met people. I learned to tell stories through sound. I did some really cool things. Past this point, I suspect that anything I produce will benefit Blythe’s career more than mine.
“Oh no!” the podcasting community cries. “Did something happen between you two?”
Nah, we’re solid. Like all creative pairs, we scrap occasionally…but we’ve gotten good at it, and I love her like the big sister I never had. But look, in five years, we’ve done—
– This super cool one-woman-audio-drama-slash-storytelling-slash-novella thing
There isn’t a lot else I can do for her. Not with audio, anyway. We continue to collaborate very, very closely at our dayjob. There will be other projects for us – believe me. It’s a good partnership. No one wants to break up the band.
And we’re friends. Above all else, we’re really good friends.
This is also my last chance to push Blythe’s voice and range as far as it will go. Which means A) ALL the emotion. If it’s not there in the text, she can’t bring it out. And B) Sam has to have some of that flash and fire…but she also has gentleness and support in a way I’ve not done yet.
I’d like to be quite clear about something, though:
While I’m focusing more on prose fiction and stage plays, that does NOT mean that I am abandoning this community. Podcasting brought us together, and it has been so wonderful to see us all grow into our creative lives – whatever form they take. I’ll still be around at cons. I’m sticking around social media. I love my jaunts south of the border to visit you all.
None of that is changing. I’m still here, still part of you. The only reason for this very public goodbye is – I don’t want people to wonder at the silence. I don’t want a year, two years, five years to pass without explanation. I don’t want people to think, Oh, she never pulled it together again. Another pod-fade. No. I want to go out on my terms.
And never say never, right? I don’t plan to pursue audio fiction further, but if ever the stars align and the perfect project strikes at the right moment – I won’t refuse for reasons of pride. The door’s closed, but it definitely isn’t locked. Who knows? Maybe I can do a non-fiction podcast. I’d love that. It’d balance my love of audio with my rapidly diminishing time.
The last story is the first story…But what is this story? Is it a story that loss sucks and then you grieve? No…no, I don’t think so. I think it’s the story of how this wonderful, transformative friendship made our girl who knew no stories become The Storyteller.
So I have many thank you’s to say. Thank you to everyone who listened, everyone who shared, everyone who encouraged us. Thank you for welcoming me into this community in the first place. And thank you for your unbridled enthusiasm for this swan song.
With Six Stories, Told at Night, I have accomplished what I wanted to do artistically, and said what I wanted to say. It is a nice feeling to end on – to know that I’ve written the podcast that justifies me, and the immensely talented partner with whom I work.
I think it’ll be cool. I think so. I hope so. Maybe even beautiful in parts. We’ll see.
It was. Every bit of it – all these five years.
Thank you, all.
Much love,
KT
What I’m Listening To This Week
We’ve heard the “Ashokan Farewell” here before, but this version has lyrics. They are appropriate to this week, and I have been bawling every time I hear them.
Cover Reveal and Podcast Announcement!
Cover reveal and podcast announcement! Huzzah!
Our new audio drama, Six Stories, Told at Night releases soon—Episode 1 should drop on Sunday, August 14th. There will be links aplenty once that happens, rest assured.
Six Stories, Told at Night has been generously funded by the Ontario Arts Council. What does this mean? It means that, after years of podcasting on a shoestring, I could finally afford to do things properly. Custom music, pro rates for voice talent (an actor AND a singer, oh my), and a gorgeous cover image.
Would you like to see this gorgeous cover image?
Of course you would.
It’s designed by Starla Huchton, after all.
Here it is:
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I am so incredibly grateful to the Ontario Arts Council. Someone, please correct me if I’m wrong, but I think I’m the first fantasy podcaster to receive government funding? While that’s neat for my ego, it’s also highly encouraging.
You guys, the government funded an independent podcast. Not only that, the government funded an independent fantasy podcast.
Ten years ago, not many people knew what a podcast was. Not many people outside the community took them all that seriously. While podcasts have since grown more mainstream, this feels incredibly validating. It reaffirms that yes, podcast fiction is legitimate art. It shows that podcasts have changed the way we tell stories—maybe not quite the way we all imagined ten years back, but nevertheless.
And it reaffirms the legitimacy of speculative fiction outside its community. For those keeping score at home—earlier this year, a straight-up fantasy story about cannibal ice monsters won the largest short story contest in Canada. Now Six Stories and its fairy tales contribute to the arts in Ontario. It makes me feel very honoured, very blessed, and very humbled.
It’s been a wild ride. Blythe sounds phenomenal, of course—I think this may be my favourite vocal performance from her. I can’t wait to show you what we’ve been working on. See you next Sunday!
-KT
What I’m Listening To This Week
So here’s how I do this: I literally just find whatever song has been most played on my iPod over the past week. That’s it.
So….
More Hamilton.
Sorry. Not sorry.
This song has acquired a very special poignancy for me. Music starts at 1:04.
Blog Train Leaving the Station!
Excitement! Some Stonecoast classmates and I have decided to band together and create a blog train: linking our sites to each other like cars in a train. They’re all pretty cool people, so I’m glad to be along for the ride!
This post is meant to be, “Who am I? What is this blog?”
Well…I’m KT Bryski: Canadian author and podcaster. I’ll write just about anything, but I mostly stick to fantasy. Dark/historically-flavoured fantasy. Sometimes I podcast—I just finished releasing an audio drama, and I’m in the midst of outlining another. This blog started when I went to New Zealand way back in 2012 (oh…man…where did the time go?) and has since mutated into a general repository for ponderings/updates too long to fit in Facebook posts.
So that’s all cool, I guess, but it doesn’t tell you a whole lot about me.
Can I introduce you to my desk instead?
A writer’s workspace says a lot about them: it’s their bridge, castle, command centre, and hobbit hole all in one.
This office nook is my favourite thing about my garret. Sometimes noise off the street interferes with podcasting, but a) it’s a small space, which I find comforting as I’m less likely to be attacked from behind by ninjas, and b) there is LOTS of natural light. In the evening, I get the sunset right through that window. Plus I can watch squirrels and neighbourhood cats frolicking in the street, which is a good thing when the fantasy gets a mite *too* dark.
This is my mic. Most of the aforementioned audio drama was recorded on this guy. A while back, I had a post about constructing a pop filter from beer bottles. As you can see, I’ve upgraded. Note the custom stand made from The Science Fiction Century (solid), Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None (a favourite) and The Actors’ Thesaurus (aka, my Writer-Actor Dictionary).
I learned about clickers when I interned with the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences! It’s just an ordinary dog training clicker, but the sound makes a very distinctive waveform on audio playback. Which means you can sync things, and it’s a lot easier to find where you’ve made mistakes. More efficient than just swearing loudly, which is what I used to do (okay, I still do that sometimes….).
Lucky D20 was obtained at Balticon. It reminds me of everyone there: all my writing family.
I’m obsessed with whiteboards and bulletin boards. I like to have things in front of me, so I can have all the information and schedules I need at a glance. For me, it’s better than hunting through piles of paper—keeps the fingers flowing more smoothly, eh?
Luckily, the garret’s former tenant was both writerly and crafty: this whiteboard/bulletin setup was here when I moved in. Some sentimental things, some motivational things, a general outline of things I want to accomplish this year…everything I need, right there.
As mentioned, I am at Stonecoast: a low-residency creative writing MFA program. This is the plan for the next few months. At least, thesis-wise. Everything else is on the other side of the whiteboard.
December 2nd seems both way too close and distressingly far away…
And that’s the nook. It’s my spot. It felt like home the moment I got my own desk in, but after a few months here in the garret, I feel nicely settled in.
How about you? What’s your spot? Where do you feel completely at home, and in control?
-KT
What I’m Listening to this Week
Yep, still doing this. This week it’s “The Dark-Haired Girl” by Méav Ní Mhaolcatha. Méav is an Irish singer, but this piece is in Scottish Gaelic. The next few prose projects in the docket are mostly Celtic-flavoured for one reason or another, so my Gaelic playlist is back.
This is a strangely hypnotic piece, with the percussion providing a steady, anchoring piece throughout. I quite like Méav’s voice: clear and pure, and it balances nicely against the murkier instrumentals. For some reason, this piece has always reminded me of a snake: coiling and uncoiling, restlessly, endlessly…
Next Up…
Next in the train is the dapper and talented Joseph Carro. He is a man of fine hats, excellent moustaches, and a writerly sensibility. Sadly, I never got a chance to workshop with Joe – the historical/dark/quirky edge to his fiction is right up my alley. He also runs an insightful review site. You can check out Joe’s blog here!