Chapter Two
To: Kevin Kissoon
Subject: Editor—The Sophomore English Agenda
Hi Kevin,
Sanaa let me know you were interested in working with me and okay with the compensation, so I thought I’d reach out to introduce myself and get started.
I’m Elle, and my day job is working with books, so I’m fairly well-read. I also have a lot of opinions. That’s basically the podcast—I work my way through the standard American high school reading list and share my thoughts.
I’ve been on a biweekly schedule that I’d like to keep up if possible.
I also recently started a Patreon, and the support there has both shocked me and sent me into a shame spiral about how all I’ve had to offer them so far is extended cuts and previews of normal episodes.
I’d like to do some sort of actual new bonus content, but I’ve been really struggling to find time to record and edit three episodes on my own a month. So hopefully, that’s where you come in!
I’ve already got next week’s handled and good to go.
I have three more recorded, but I only have a rough cut of the first. I’ve attached that one here.
Usually, I record 1–1.5 hours and then try to edit down to 30–40 min.
A lot of it is cutting out the horrifying number of “uhhs” and “oh my god what am I SAYINGs” every time I misspeak, so …
sorry in advance. I also like to make the title something (hopefully) funny I said in the episode to drive listener curiosity.
For this one, I’m thinking “Michael B. Jordan Did Ray Bradbury Dirty and Not in a Fun Way.” Of course, I am open to any and all suggestions!
I usually publish at noon Eastern on Wednesdays so would the same time on Tuesdays be okay as a deadline?
I’ll send you more rough cuts as soon as I have them.
In terms of what Sanaa called the rebrand—the website is a virtually unchanged Squarespace template and the cover art was designed by me using a free Canva account. I think maybe with the cover art the idea is there? But I promise not to be insulted if you decide not even that is salvageable.
Anyway, I am extremely excited and also extremely relieved to be working with you! Hope you had a nice weekend.
Elle
fahrenheit_451_rough (2).wav
To: Elle Rex
RE: Editor—The Sophomore English Agenda
Hey Elle,
So nice to meet you. Really happy to be on this project—I’ve missed audio editing.
I put together mood boards of cover art and websites for similar podcasts with a couple of color palettes as a starting point. Please let me know what looks good to you or if there’s a different direction you’d like to go in.
Tuesdays work for me. Excited to dive in.
SEA_cover_mood.pptx
SEA_website_mood.pptx
To: Kevin Kissoon
RE: Editor—The Sophomore English Agenda
Wow, I LOVE the vibes of those mood boards! I also kind of hate the word “vibes,” but I truly don’t have anything better here. What else would I say? “Essence”? Ew.
Anyway, I think the second palette is really nice—eye-catching but not overdoing it. Though I am generally a fan of color and maximalism, so maybe I am not the best judge of “overdoing it” lmao.
Also, any thoughts on the tagline? I made this podcast for fun under the assumption that maybe 100 people would listen, and now I keep teetering on regret over how unseriously I took all of it.
On the streetcar to Kennedy High School, Ravi listens through the rough cut of the episode Elle sent him.
He loved editing music and culture episodes for his college radio station, but he’s always treated podcasts as more utilitarian in his personal listening—NPR’s Up First keeps him up-to-date in a short enough package for his attention span to handle, and he’ll occasionally pick a random episode of Vox’s Explain It to Me if he wants a deeper dive into something in American politics.
Other than that, it’s always been music during work and on his commutes.
Suresh really likes them, though. Says they can be like listening to a comedy special, even though the topic at hand is always, say, debunking a pop economics book.
Fifteen minutes into The Sophomore English Agenda and maybe he gets it.
Elle is clearly doing her version of a classic radio voice, and it adds to the dry delivery.
Ravi is almost never sure she’s joking until the punchline has already landed.
Even her title suggestion—“If you are, like me, someone who in 2014 suffered through That Awkward Moment in theaters solely for a certain The Wire alum, you might be tempted to try the HBO adaptation. I must warn you against it; Michael B. Jordan did Ray Bradbury dirty and not in a fun way.”—manages to surprise a laugh out of him, and he knew it was coming.
He opens his email and types out a message to Elle: Halfway through and the episode title is perfect. Though I’m not sure about “Elle Rex has beef with a lot of dead white men” as a tagline—you seem pretty admiring here.
Only after he’s sent it does he worry that it might be weird to comment before he’s returned the edited file.
And before he’s even finished listening, as he’s just admitted to her.
The last few messages they’ve exchanged have been about colors and typefaces for the website.
He wonders why he felt comfortable enough to send her this.
Her reply comes on the way from the streetcar stop to the school. It reads Thank you and lmao please let me know if you feel the same once you’ve finished listening:), and he decides he has nothing to worry about.
Ravi takes in the building—it’s nice; surprisingly so, even though Suresh had informed him that it’d been redone recently (Suresh knows absolutely everything about Portland Public Schools, even the ones Mia is never going to attend.
At this point, it could be considered an illness.
Fatherhood, Stage IV. Incurable). The building is several stories tall, leaving room for sports fields, lots of glass and light.
His welcome email from someone named Sherine informed him that the library is on the first floor, and he can see as much from the outside.
But the email also directed him to check in at the front office first, so that’s what he does.
“Kevin Ravi Kissoon,” Sherine says, peering at him over her reading glasses in a way he tries not to read as judgmental and then back at his ID. “Preferred name Ravi, correct?”
“That’s me,” Ravi affirms somewhat shyly. He feels like he’s been called to the principal’s office for some amorphous infraction. Despite his having been a legal adult for going on thirteen years, his fear of admonishment has yet to loosen its grip.
“Name tag.” She passes him a pad of stickers and a Sharpie. “I told Ms. Koenig we found someone as soon as your background check cleared, so she’ll be expecting you,” she says, nudging her glasses off her nose casually, letting them dangle from their beaded chain.
He pauses halfway through his “R.” “Oh, should I be writing ‘Mr. Kissoon’?”
“Well this is a school.” Sherine tilts her head to assess him the same way she had before, even though there’s no need with her glasses removed. Ravi decides that the previous time, it hadn’t been about her vision, either. “But you are not a teacher.”
Could’ve done without the emphasis, Ravi thinks. He finishes the job he started, writes he/him in the little slot for pronouns at the bottom, slaps it on his chest, and leaves the office as fast as he possibly can.
The library has enormous windows, the street outside only partially obscured by a hedge. It’s pleasant now, but at night, Ravi can imagine it would have a sort of unsettling I’m-the-fish-in-the-bowl effect.
He’s a little early, so there’s only one person here.
Ms. Koenig, presumably. Her back is to him and her left foot is tapping away as if she’s impatiently surveying the circle of chairs she’s made.
She’s wearing an off-white T-shirt under burnt-orange corduroy overalls and deep-red cowboy boots.
Mrs. Baptiste, the septuagenarian librarian of his high school years, she is not.
“Hey,” Ravi says. “I’m Ravi. I signed up to volunteer?” The end pitches up in question, even though he doesn’t mean it to.
She turns to face him. “I’m Yael. Ms. Koenig if you’re underage. Which I desperately hope you’re not; otherwise I’m still in a severe adult shortage.”
He notices a few things in quick succession: her thickly lashed brown eyes, her full cheeks, the crease in her bottom lip. Familiar, somehow. Very familiar.
“Did you find us through the posting on the PPS website, or did you see one of my flyers?” she continues. “Please tell me it was the flyer. I was very proud of myself for that one.” She laughs to herself.
Ravi squints, trying to place her. He’d remember her from her hair alone, surely? Tight curls that reach just past her jawline, dyed an almost-burgundy-red. A piece from just above her temple braided and strung halfway with light brown wooden beads. “Yeah, it was the…”
Charles’s roommate. Clear-eyed and energetic this time, but unmistakable.
“… flyer,” he finishes lamely.
It takes Yael a couple of extra beats to get there, and he watches her brow furrow and her lips pout to fill the space. “You,” she finally says, and he feels filleted by the single word.
“Should I leave?”
“I’ve had flyers up for weeks, and you’re the first person to volunteer?” Her voice drips in disbelief, and she presses on as though she hasn’t heard him. “God, that’s literally incredible. There’s, like, half a million people in this city, and I got Charlie’s shittiest one-night stand?”
Ravi frowns, crossing his arms. “Yes, I know, you think I’m an asshole.”
Yael appraises him. “I caught you climbing out of my bedroom window after you slept with my roommate! ‘Asshole’ is a fair assessment.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he protests.