Manic Pixie Dream Final Girl Summer
June arrives like a story prompt
There’s something oddly collective about the way we narrativize summer nowadays. We name it, theme it, brand it into our inner lives like seasonal campaigns. Brat Summer, Feral Summer, Sad Girl Summer, Summer of Outside. It might seem silly or overly internet-driven, but at its heart, it’s an act of longing, to shape time into something intentional.
I think the desire to name our summers isn’t about chasing trends—it’s us trying to carve a story arc into the chaos. To say: This is who I want to be for a little while. This is what I want to feel. This is what matters to me now, at least for the next few months. It’s a kind of personal myth-making.
The start of June, to me, is the start of summer, and it’s the beginning of my birthday month. I know there’s well-deserved pushback against the idea of adults celebrating their birthday for longer than one day, let alone an entire month. But in my defense, I am a middle child, which means birthdays are the one day, the only day, when it is universally agreed upon that everyone will pay attention to the birthday person (and NOT her brothers), while saying things like “wow, you’re special!”and “you are valued!” and “I notice you exist!”
I don’t actually stretch my birthday festivities out across the entire month, but I do use June as a time to check in—not with goals or productivity metrics, but with aliveness. June invites us to notice more: the way the evening light lingers, the taste of in-season strawberries, ice cream truck music echoing down a city block, fireflies adding magic to the twilight.
Last June, I sent a question to my friends and family: “What should I do to honor my birthday this year?” The answers were wild and thoughtful and loving. With my deepest apologies, I admittedly followed through on very few of the suggested activities.
But what they gave me was even better than the brainstorming of experiences: they gave me stories. I didn’t ask for anything more than a sentence, and instead, they shared their anecdotes and memories, their own wishes and hopes and heartaches. Every one of them made me cry.
What I really wanted, especially last year, was connection. And I was given it in ways I didn’t anticipate, but which I still treasure.
They reminded me that life isn’t tidy, but it is rich, profound, and often astonishing—if you’re paying attention. It can hand you the plot twists you didn’t know you needed, and if you’re open to it, you might craft yourself a beautiful character arc from it.
In the past year, I developed so much for my heart, my self, and for my next chapters.
In terms of writing, I finished a short story I’m proud of. I’m writing another one now, and I already love it. I wrote thousands of words of a horror novel, scrapped it, started again, scrapped that, too. Then came the latest version—and for the first time, it feels aligned with the story I’ve been trying to tell all along. Those earlier drafts, now buried in the document graveyard, did their job. They were necessary bones, and they got me here.
This is how creativity works. We think we're heading toward one destination, and we end up somewhere completely different, somewhere we didn't even know we needed to go, while believing that the story wants to be told.
Summer isn’t one clean draft—it’s a continuation of iterations. It’s a setting, full of thunderstorms, cotton candy stands, and possibility. Summer is a season of character development, rising tension, and epic stakes. It may not wrap up with an earned resolution, but it always builds a mood.
Manic Pixie Dream Final Girl Summer™
Speaking of summer trends and narrative namesakes, I’m calling this coming season my Manic Pixie Dream Final Girl Summer™.
For those unfamiliar with the tropes, the Manic Pixie Dream Girl is a quirky character whose sole role is to wake a cute, but brooding, male protagonist up to the wonders of life. She’s quirky, sparkling, yet entirely self-abandoning. The Final Girl is the last one standing in a horror movie, and the one responsible for inevitably dispatching the killer. She’s resourceful, determined, and she refuses to die, despite the horrors she carries within her after the movie ends.
Both archetypes are meaningful to me, thanks to a multitude of stories that have had an impact on me over time. With both the Manic Pixie Dream Girl and the Final Girl, there are elements to honor, and other aspects that might be better to eschew.
Manic Pixie Dream Final Girl Summer is about embodying Zoey Daschnel’s optimism and sense of enchantment, along with Neve Campbell’s bold fierceness. It’s about being dreamy and durable, whimsical and wise, soft but strategically armed (with a butcher knife, if need be).
To continue the imagery, it’s about bloodstained sundresses, RomCom mornings that give way to Slasher midnights, and wildflower meadows where no one can hear you scream.
The Manic Pixie Dream Final Girl is here for the story: to survive it, subvert it, and steal the scene while riding the Wonder Wheel.
What kind of summer are you shaping?
And what will you call it? Because names carry weight. And summer will arrive to meet whatever story you give it.
Glimmers to share
✨My summer TBR list is dangerously long, but I’m also tempted to re-read some favorites from summers past, like Such Sharp Teeth by Rachel Harrison and Book Lovers by Emily Henry.
Should I go for romance, or horror? Is there a difference?
✨It’s summer reading season for the kids! I’m currently handing my boys stacks and stacks of books, including (age appropriate) spooky reads that are perfect for long, lazy reading sessions.
The Goosebumps series by R.L. Stine
Stinetinglers by R.L Stine
Tales to Keep You Up at Night by Dan Poblocki
Only if You Dare by Josh Allen