Director's Notes – Episode 104

(NOTE: As always, Director's Notes contain spoilers)

Fictional deaths are dramatic. The hero's best friend dies in a massive choreographed fight sequence. Or a symbol of innocence, like a child or a dog, is shockingly struck down by a villain. Or a spouse ultimately succumbs to a two-hour long struggle with a fatal disease, and their family must come to tearful terms with their impending loss. 

Real life death can be dramatic, too. But mostly it is mundane. That is not to say real deaths are without emotion or consequences. They are cathartic, devastating, with wide-reaching ramifications, from wills to debts to business to a spiritual imbalances in the living. But real life moves forward. You don't get a neat denouement and credit sequence to help with closure. You cry, you grieve, you go to sleep, you wake up, and you move forward. Not because you want to, but because it's what you know how to do.

The podcast Welcome to Night Vale does not have an ending. It is ongoing, everchanging, like life. People die, move, change, get married, fall in/out of love, and none of those are conclusions, just bold headers atop new chapters. 

We were not shocked that Old Woman Josie died. Of course, Joseph and I write this podcast, so nothing that happens in it (beyond an unexpected performance from an actor) ever shocks us, but sometimes we make decisions about the direction of the show that excite or scare us. In the case of Josefina Ortiz's passing, we knew it was time. We were neither excited nor scared, simply resigned to changes in a town that were natural, normal and tragic.

We didn't want shock listeners by killing her unexpectedly, nor to make it bigger than real life, instilling pretentious meaning or martyrdom or any over-the-top device to aggressively serve a plot.

For months her health deteriorated, and she ultimately succumbed to an infection her elderly body couldn't handle. The town (and our listeners) had several episodes to observe this. No surprises, only a fading hope that she might pull through. And with that gone, we can feel sorrow in passing, but as Cecil says, we can also feel joy in carrying forward her desire to nourish public art and joyful community. 

Josie was a symbol of community, of love for society and culture. She was an ideal citizen in her support of arts and humanities, in her inclusive world view. In a place where angels were neither acknowledged nor allowed to openly exist, she welcomed their company, and they did everything to support her in return. 

The aftermath of Josie's death means a battle over recognition of existence and a conversation about what a good community is. That is, after all, what Night Vale has been about from the get-go, and what Josie has been about as well. 

It's sad to see her go, but I'm not sure we've seen the last of her – not that she's going to be a ghost or undead or Yoda hologram thing, just that her impact on Night Vale has been huge. There's more to cover there than we'll ever fully get to. 

I didn't mean for this note to sound like a eulogy of a secondary fictional character, but it's hard not to do that. So, aw hell, let's just go with it.

She was beautiful because she did beautiful things. We can all only dream that someone may one day say the same of us.

- Jeffrey Cranor
March 15, 2017