I love Shakespeare. I always think it sounds a bit trite and pretentious when I say that, but I really do. Maybe it’s because my father taught English, including Shakespeare’s plays, and my parents took me to productions when I was little. While I’ve never been hugely fond of King Lear, Macbeth and Hamlet have these incredible epic status weights in my formative story brain. Twelfth Night, of course, sparked all those cross-dressing-romance chords even before I got to Tamora Pierce’s Song of the Lioness.
But the one that really carved out a spot in my heart early on was Midsummer Night’s Dream. In second grade I played the part (somewhat obliviously) of a ballet skirted Cobweb in a school production. I think it was the same year my father took me to one put on by Deerfield Academy and John Reese where Puck zoomed around on rollerblades. So while I don’t have anything obviously Shakespearean, here are Moth and Mustardseed gossiping.