That Time I Wrote a House for Meow Wolf
Back in 2022, Meow Wolf invited me to their Santa Fe Headquarters for a brainstorming session. They took me on a tour of their warehouse (a converted Caterpillar manufacturer building) where many of their artists produced art to put in their installations around the country. At some point, I was walking back to the main office, a bit overwhelmed, when I see a golden retriever lying on the floor in front of me. Amory all the art
That's a dog, I thought to myself. Then. Or is it?
See, it lay so still, I couldn't tell. I was too far away to see it breathing, so I couldn't tell if it really was a dog or just a really, really good facsimile. The lines of reality blurred and in that moment, anything, anything could be possible.
Then the dog lifted its head and thumped its tail as I approached, and confirmed, oh yeah, that was a real dog.
Two weeks ago, I stood in front of the Real Unreal House, the newest addition to the Meow Wolf multiverse located in Grapevine Texas. The images I cultivated in my head for three years sat right in front of me, in the flesh…or wood. Whatever—it was tangible. I had created it. And at that moment, I experienced that same liminal slide where the impossible had snapped into the possibile.
It was overwhelming. Still is, in a way.
People have been asking me, "How does it feel to have something you created come to life?" In all honesty, it feels weird. I alone did not build this house. But I came up with the story of the family who lived in it, crafted a vision of how it would look, noted the objects that would be in it and such. Then the set designers took that vision and ran with it.
It was surreal to see things I had pictured in my head right in front of me. Tangible. True.
But then, it was even more surreal to watch people interact with the house. Rummage through the Delaney and Fuqua belongings. Talk to each other about the messages they found. Watch the videos. Read the journals. Piece together clues.
I talked to a few visitors to get their reactions. Moments that stood out:
The embrace of an older Black woman who came with her adult son. The joy in her words when she said to me, "There is so much love in this house. You did an excellent job.”
The teenage boy superfan who kept running up to me every few minutes with his ideas on how the Real Unneal connected with the stories in the other Meow Wolf locations.
The Young girl reading Laverne’s journal aloud, trying to piece together why Laverne was so upset with Carmen, and her own shy theory when I asked her what she thought.
The Meow Wolf security staff who thanked me for writing the story; it had meant so much to him as a trans man.
The story I wrote isn't a book one can pick up and read. It's a story one must experience, touch, listen to, soak in. Meow Wolf stresses that there is no wrong way to explore. Everyone will come away with their own story. My superfan friend's theory is that all the people entering the house are really sleuths sifting through the aftermath of a supernatural event, and thus we too become part of the story, is my favorite one).
I don't have control over how people will interpret the story or even if they ignore it altogether and focus on the art (and the art is so amazing and incredible). And yes, there are people who will go in and come away with negative ideas. I've already seen one response that said all the art was demonic and other transphobic, homophobic things.
In a weird way, it’s a lot like reading the Bible.
Everyone enters the house, see the objects and the art, and then they come up with a meaning. Most of the time, it’s similar to what the author and the story designers intended. Sometimes they put their own spin on the underlying story. Sometimes they miss the original story altogether, but are still drawn to what appeals to them and are nourished by the stories they find there. And sometimes, they will go in with preconceived notions and are only looking for evidence to support their own headcanon and don’t come out encouraged or inspired at all.
Everyone experiences story differently. I thought I needed people to know every single detail of the story I wrote for Meow Wolf, but that's not stories work. Interpretation is personal. My hope is that people came away with the same interpretation as the older Black woman had—that the people in the house loved each other, even when they were upset and angry with each other. If they at least get a little sense of that love, then I’ve done my job well.
I certainly came away with my own sense of impossible possibility. Sitting on a bench under the tree on the front lawn, watching people laugh as they enter the house, the lamps casting a warm glow from the windows. The chirps of crickets, the rush of a passing car, brief snippets of piano. Tiny lights twinkling in the sky and around in the garden.
For just a moment, it all became so real to me. Very real. And that was enough.
WHAT NOW?
This week, I head to GenCon as one of the speaking authors at the Writers’ Symposium. If you’re going, click here to check out my scheduled events.
When I get back from that, I’ll be focusing on getting GigaNotoSaurus Magazine settled to operating long-term, so stay tuned for that.
I’m still working on a short story, which has decided to turn itself into a novella. You can read updates on how I’m doing with that on Bluesky. I’m still on Twitter (which I’m not going to acknowledge its other name), and Facebook.
Okay…I’m setting my calendar to release another newsletter at the end of August. Oh yeah, I’m taking suggestions on a new newsletter name. I mean, sure, I could go with “The Biweekly Tongue”, buuuut to be honest I’m more against having to write biweekly than the whole tongue thing…
Anyhoo, let me know your suggestions in the comments. And click here for more information on what I wrote for Meow Wolf. Heck, if you’re going to visit it in Grapevine, Texas, let me know. I’d love to know what you think.