Surviving My Substack: A Guide for the Brave (and the Bored)
rock n roll, pole dancing, the smashing pumpkins, mom trauma, hollywood, a childhood in a nightclub...and this is only the beginning
Well, well, well, look who's back for more. Or maybe you're new here, in which case… welcome and sorry (not sorry) in advance.
Over the past few months, I’ve dumped a lot into this Substack. Have you been keeping up? If not, this post is a recap. And for this week only, I’ve unlocked “paid” posts for everyone to read gratis. So, ketchup before you get squished.
For those of you who are new readers, my name is Carré (kuh-ray) and I’m an indie art-rock musician who performs under the name Queen Kwong. I’m also a writer, a millennial woman, and an overall uncomfortable time. If you’re into reading about existential crises wrapped up in the guise of musical exploration (or vice versa), you’ve come to the right place.
Still curious? Duh. Here’s a rundown of my greatest hits so far:
I spent my childhood going between a hotel and a goth nightclub. It was as inappropriate as it sounds, but it shaped me into the musician I am today. Read about my upbringing and musical influences (PJ Harvey reigns supreme) in Born Against Pt. 1 & Born Against Pt. 2.
I moved to Hollywood when I was 17 under some pretty crazy circumstances, and things only got crazier. While getting chewed up and spit out by the music biz, I worked an array of reputable day jobs:
I’m currently іn the throes оf writing and recording my 4th LP. If you’re wondering what my music/creative process іs like, read about it here. It’s chaotic, unpredictable, and not for everyone. But that’s just Queen Kwong for you.
A few months ago, I auditioned to be the new guitarist for The Smashing Pumpkins. There were 10,000+ hopefuls, and I made it to the final handful. And then I absolutely blew it.
Which got me questioning my path as a musician (again), and it didn't take long to realize I might be in the midst of a midlife crisis. However, my life has always been a series of crises, so who's to say? As I continued to spiral, I couldn't help but think about my mother—aka The Stunt Cunt—and how my relationship with her has tainted every other relationship in my life, including my twisted love affair with that false idol and failed savior, MUSIC.
Recently, I celebrated a birthday, which naturally inspired me tо write about death. I was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis as an adult, and it's been...weird? I'm still іn denial about іt for the most part, which іs why I haven't talked much about іt publicly. But hey, being a professional touring singer with lungs that look like they've been through a war іs just another chapter tо add tо my memoir оf ironies.
Keep your eyes primed for next week’s post about playing shows in London and my attempt to air-guitar a Bruce Springsteen song. Yeah, it’s as awkward as it sounds.
More:
Join the Historical Hysteria group chat —because misery loves company.
Explore the archives. It’s a treasure trove of…well, trigger warnings.
As usual, please subscribe, comment, and share the shit out of my posts. We’re not just building a community here; we’re assembling an army and aiming for world domination.
c u next tuesday.
XX CARRÉ
PS: If you want continued access to paid posts but don’t have the cash for it right now, I set up a rewards system so you can get comped access by referring my Substack to other readers. Learn more about it HERE.
Im loving your writing :)
Powering! ❤️🔥