When playing Stardew Valley, you can tend your crops, upgrade your tools and work towards perfection… and you can start asking questions.
Why has nobody challenged Lewis for mayor in twenty years? What exactly did the Wizard do to make his ex-wife start cursing the countryside? Who is stocking JojaMart’s emergency-room-strength hot sauce? What do the mermaids know?
These are just some of the questions Shirley asks her guests. Shirley is the host of my favourite podcast Stardrop Tea, a Stardew Valley gossip podcast, devoted to Stardew drama and lore (canon or otherwise…)
I spoke to Shirley about the theory she has become completely convinced by, how making a podcast changed her relationship with the game and why being silly matters… especially as we get older.
What first drew you into Stardew Valley, and what made you realise you had enough thoughts about Pelican Town to start a podcast?
I’ve been playing Stardew since 2020. I needed a way to stay “sane” during lockdown and found solace in this farm sim and RPG made up of a town filled with complex characters.
One of my friends had recommended it, saying it was fun and they thought I would find it amusing. I didn’t have a Switch at the time, so I downloaded Steam, played on my laptop and started with the Wilderness Farm. Big mistake, obviously. I said, “Wow, this person doesn’t know me… this game blows,” and didn’t play it again until they urged me to give it another try.
I obliged, and my second farm was the standard farm. I stayed with that layout for years. Then I downloaded it on our Switch, where my spouse and I had to take turns accessing the joy available to us through Animal Crossing and Stardew.
I have no concept of time in 2020, but I remember playing for more than ten consecutive hours and thinking, “Oh no, this game is filled with magic and wonder, and now I have to see it through.”
Playing the game only gives you so much, as you know, so I needed to figure out how to navigate it. I began reading the wiki consistently, which gave me so much inspiration for the future podcast. Shoutout to the wiki’s creators and development team, because it’s so well done and I appreciate all their work tremendously!
I’m really drawn to the story of everything. Why do characters do what they do? What is in it for them? What is their backstory? I enjoyed how this game gave me some context, but I could make up the rest.
My imagination definitely filled in the blanks about what was happening in this town, why I was sent there and why this guy is the mayor when he is clearly unqualified for the position, yet seemingly in charge and never once challenged for it for twenty years.
Needless to say, I had beef with the allegedly incompetent mayor and couldn’t keep it to myself. I brought it up constantly, completely unprompted, in the middle of conversations about literally anything else. My friends would laugh and say, “You should do something with that.” I’d nod, then do absolutely nothing about it for a few years.
It wasn’t until I met Hilary, the podcast’s season one co-host, that someone finally said, “Okay, let’s actually do this.” My entire pitch (my whole business plan, if you want to call it that) was: I want to talk shit about the mayor. Everything else, we figured out live.
Which character or storyline first sent you down a lore rabbit hole?
Besides the mayor not doing his job and being such a jerk to Marnie???
It was definitely the juxtaposition of this seemingly normal town with magical creatures that nobody seemed to acknowledge fully. I wanted to know (and still want to know) who the Wizard’s child is and, better yet, what did he do to the Witch?
When I read his quote about his marriage, I thought, “This man is hiding something and I need to know what it is.”
“I was married, long ago. After my wife and I split, she began flying around the countryside, cursing everything she saw. It’s not a very mature way to express one’s anger.” - The lying Wizard
One doesn’t go around cursing the countryside for no good reason.
Everything about this game felt so intentional. With the limited dialogue we had, I was intrigued by the creator’s choices and by what was left unsolved or underdeveloped. It made me want to know more.
By the time I started playing in 2020, the game had already been out for several years, so the Stardew community was already diving into theories. I can’t help but be intrigued by a juicy conspiracy theory.
And while we’re chatting… do you know who the Wizard’s daughter is, by any chance?
What makes Stardew Valley’s characters so enjoyable to overanalyse, despite the relatively small amount of dialogue we’re given?
I think it’s how flawed and layered they are. As you’ve heard me say, none of these characters are perfect, including your in-game wife, Leah (how dare you, Shirley…) and it’s so much fun to dive into that with a touch of magic.
I love slice-of-life shows and stories because not everything needs to be a grand adventure to be meaningful. When I began playing this game, life felt limited and constrained by the walls we lived within, and I needed an escape. Because the game forced friendship and connection upon the farmer, I felt able to live vicariously through it and foster those connections too.
I was drawn to the dark undertones that revealed themselves over time. Yes, you’re immediately met with some level of disdain or trepidation from the villagers, but the driving forces behind those characters aren’t revealed unless you start interacting with them.
Each character has redeeming qualities (except Clint and Lewis… jkjk) as well as things that make them unlikeable. It cracked me up that every Reddit post would receive mixed reactions. If someone says, “I love Penny,” you’ll get everything from agreement to someone outright yelling at them. I found that chaos enjoyable.
And because nobody has a complete story, I could keep filling in the gaps using my lived experiences or entirely made-up variations. The more I got to know the characters, the richer the story became.
Yes, I could farm all day, go to the mines and decimate the local slime population. Or I could develop a stronger friendship with Caroline, drink her totally normal and not-at-all questionable tea concoction that shows me a little monkey in my cup, and guide her to the Yoba light so that perhaps one day she could leave her loveless marriage to Pierre. I have options, and I’m thrilled about it.
Has producing the podcast changed how you play the game or how you feel about any of its characters?
It has definitely changed the way I play. When the podcast started, I had already played for a few hundred hours and still felt as though I didn’t know everything. In preparation for each episode, I’d go out of my way to find details I hadn’t seen people discussing.
I started checking every item in villagers’ rooms, reading the prescription-drug warnings hanging in Harvey’s clinic and actually reading the aisle labels in JojaMart. There’s a hot-sauce aisle in there, ranging from mild to “take me to the emergency room” levels, which I found while trying to prove that Pam was a secret Joja shopper.
I didn’t find evidence of a job, unless dissociating for five hours is paying the big bucks, but I did find so many questionable canned goods that I highly doubt are FDA-approved. Not that it matters any more. /s
Over time, though, producing the podcast also made me burn out on the game slightly. It’s fun at first to create something about a topic you’re obsessed with, but like most things in this capitalist society, it lost some vibrancy once I felt I had to do it instead of simply wandering aimlessly through it.
I’m finding my way back to joy now. Lately, that has meant turning off the “is this good content?” part of my brain entirely.
What has actually helped is splitting it structurally. I have a few save files that exist purely for the podcast, while the rest are just mine or split-screen saves with my spouse. Having a version of the game with zero performance pressure attached brought back a lot of the joy. It’s too much to think about content while trying to catch a legendary fish at the same time.
Is there a theory you initially thought was ridiculous but have since become completely convinced by?
There are so many! The one I initially thought was very silly, but which seems increasingly valid the longer I sit with it, is that Caroline is the Wizard’s daughter.
Everyone assumes it is Abigail or Jas, and that could still be true, but there’s something about Caroline being the actual daughter that makes it even more exciting.
There’s the connection between his green concoction and her tea. She has naturally green hair, unlike her daughter, who dyes her hair purple but whose hair is actually chestnut-coloured like her father Pierre’s. Caroline is so anti-magic and anti-occult while maintaining her own secret space that it makes me think she is rebelling against her upbringing.
It’s similar to the mum in Halloweentown, who doesn’t want her children to know about or practise magic and doesn’t encourage them, hoping they will age out of it. Is Caroline doing the same thing with Abigail? Is that why she married a regular-degular guy like Pierre instead of embracing the elementals?
In my opinion, this is so much more fun than the simplistic story of infidelity. While that could still be the actual truth of the game, I choose to believe that Caroline’s desire to visit the tower is less about a secret rendezvous with an ex-lover and more about mustering the courage to reconnect with her reclusive father; especially considering that her mum, the Witch, is busy cursing the countryside, which is a full-time job.
And let’s not forget that Abigail feels called to learn about her grandfather, the Wizard, just as the farmer can’t escape the ghost of their grandpa secretly judging their farm.
The wider Stardew community contributes plenty of stories, theories and absolutely chaotic gossip. What has surprised you most about the community forming around the podcast?
I am always in awe of this community’s creativity and openness. One thing I didn’t expect at all when creating the podcast was how much people want to connect with others and discuss their unhinged ideas.
I consistently receive incredible emails from people sharing super-wild theories, and it brings me so much joy. I’ve genuinely cried while reading several emails about the impact this game has had on people’s lives and how the podcast has brought them happiness during these endlessly trying times.
You would think that after ten years of this game existing, every topic under the sun would have been covered. Yet I am still finding or receiving gossip that catches me by surprise.
That’s what is so much fun about Stardew: the constraints and limited dialogue aren’t actually limits. Through those gaps, the human spirit and imagination can grow. I encourage everyone to expand their minds and embrace their most chaotic theories. More, please! It’s so important to be silly, and I hope everyone continues putting energy into that.
I’m also so grateful for the people this game has connected me to, like you. We’re oceans and time zones apart, yet still able to connect through this ridiculous (complimentary) game. That is so amazing! Thanks, Stardew! Thanks, Ellie! (I love you Shirley!!! - Ellie)
Season two has seen you move into solo hosting alongside guest episodes. What has that transition been like, and has it changed the conversations you want to have?
It has genuinely been a journey! I miss having someone to riff off consistently in real time, and that was a definite shift that I’m still getting used to. My focus for season two has been allowing it to unfold organically instead of forcing it to sound like season one.
The biggest shift has been in my process. I research topics much more deeply before recording, to ensure I have enough material, and do my best to build the scaffolding of the discussion beforehand so I don’t lose my train of thought.
I’m also no longer recording solo episodes in one go, which was typical during the first season, except for the time one was derailed by technical chaos. Shoutout to Mercury retrograde, you rascal!
Now I record for as long as I’m in flow or have energy. That may be an hour or twenty minutes. If I think of something else later, I return to it and splice it in. This has been much more sustainable. Between recording, editing, publishing and marketing, plus working full-time, being a photographer, doing a bunch of random arts and crafts, and trying to leave the house and see friends, I needed a process that fitted around my life instead of demanding that my life fit around the podcast. That was adding unnecessary stress.
I had already recorded solo guest episodes in season one, so I felt confident continuing with those. I obviously play the game enough to know what I’m talking about. My biggest barrier has been my own mind.
I get really in my head about things. Am I funny enough? Do I have enough to say? Will people want to hear me go off on a tangent about Pam’s unrealised hopes and dreams, or how Kent might secretly be a vampire who has returned from war?
The answer is yes, thankfully. But my brain is both my biggest cheerleader and my worst critic, and I constantly have to balance that within myself. I didn’t even start sharing the podcast on social media until episode eight, a full six months in, because I was so nervous about its reception. Now I’m 32 episodes in and feeling a little more comfortable, albeit in a slightly different situation this time.
I’ve gained a lot of compassion for myself through this. It has also given me tremendous appreciation and admiration for people who create things.
It would have been easier and “safer” to keep this podcast as a simple idea in my head until it faded away, instead of opening myself up to a deluge of internet feedback and commentary. But would that mean I would be like Pam in my later years, talking about having hopes and dreams instead of making them a reality? We all know that storyline is saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad. No, thanks.
I know I’m going off on a tangent (my ADHD can’t help it) but what I want to get across is that life is so freaking short. I’d rather be cringe and do something embarrassing than live according to the rules and standards of a society that seeks to control and destroy instead of encouraging community and curiosity.
Does that mean every episode will be a hit and every conversation a success? Yes, because they exist, and that is a triumph in itself.
My barometer for success is directly tied to whether I had fun making it, not how many downloads it receives. If I laughed, if a guest said something that lived in my head rent-free, or if one person emails me a theory I would never have considered, that is success to me.
As for the conversations, the main thing is understanding that every guest will approach the game differently. I’m not going to force anyone to be goofy if that isn’t their vibe. But I encourage everyone to open their minds beyond gameplay mechanics, because that is where the magic lives.
I’d rather spend twenty minutes speculating about who the heck delivers the town’s post than talk about the most efficient crop rotation, which is obviously ancient fruit, and I won’t be taking further questions on this, thank you.
If anybody simply wants to chat about conspiracy theories, though, please get in touch, because I am always down to discuss unhinged conspiracy theories. I’d love to bring back a repeat guest this season and dive deeper into the silly. Yes, please.
What goes into creating an episode, from spotting a tiny detail in the game to turning it into a full discussion?
You’re catching me at a unique time because I’m about to begin planning the next ten episodes more formally. Until now, it has been purely based on vibes.
I take inspiration from previous episodes in which an offhand thought was introduced but never expanded upon. I think, “Okay, cool, what would it look like to explore this?”
I’m about to record an episode about the mines. It started when I read on the wiki that reaching level 120 changes the monsters’ strength. That led to my next question: why are there monsters in the mines?
Then I follow that train of thought. I zoom in on one tiny detail and then zoom out. What led us there? Who brought us to the mines? What kept us out? What happened to the people who worked in them? That one question gave me forty minutes of material before I even started recording. That is usually how I know an episode will work.
Every episode has a rough shape: a starting detail and a direction in which I think it will go. But I try not to over-plan, because the best moments always come from the tangent I didn’t see coming. The structure is there so I have somewhere to wander from, not somewhere I’m stuck.
I’m a naturally introspective and curious person. As I’ve grown older, I’ve embraced that even more because maintaining a sense of wonder and curiosity throughout life is so important. It makes our existence worth living and is much more exciting than staying on the surface.
Meet me at level 100 with an ancient doll. I promise it will be a unique experience.
Many people discover or return to cosy games later in life. What do you think games such as Stardew Valley offer older players that they may not find elsewhere?
Stardew allows people to have structure and discipline, or throw those things out of the proverbial window and do whatever they want.
There are no consequences for failing to complete villagers’ tasks, and no real deadline by which you must finish anything, including the Community Centre or reaching “perfection”. That sense of freedom has been glorious. I can release the stress and pressure of deadlines, which are a constant nag in real life. I can also grind away and accomplish tasks and goals, helping me feel that I have achieved something even if I wasn’t very productive in my real life that day.
There is also the nostalgia of its visual style. It reminds me of childhood games such as Super Mario, Donkey Kong, Star Fox, Frogger, Zelda, Sonic and Mortal Kombat, which also had that 8- or 16-bit aesthetic.
As a millennial, although I’m sure this applies to every generation, I know how important nostalgia has been in providing emotional comfort when the world feels chaotic. Stardew does that for me, and I imagine it does the same for many others.
It is a Goldilocks kind of game for me. It isn’t so open-world that things become boring, or so rigid that the stress of its tasks makes me feel as though I’m heading for a bad performance review. I’m sure other games provide that for other people; ultimately, it is about what you are looking for.
Stardew Valley gives you the dream of leaving corporate life to become a farmer, then adds magic and complex, rude neighbours who only want you for your prismatic jelly. As Destiny’s Child told us back in 2001: I don’t think the Wizard is ready for all this jelly.
Finally, you’re given one evening in Pelican Town. Where are you going, who are you chatting to and what gossip are you determined to uncover?
Ahhhhh!! I love this question!
First, I hope it’s a full 24-hour day and not the eighteen in-game minutes masquerading as one. I’m going to the Night Market and talking to everyone and their mothers, but ultimately I’ll spend most of my time on the mermaid boat.
I need to understand what the mermaids are doing in Pelican Town and on Ginger Island. Do they know what is happening with Emily and Haley’s parents? Did they cause the shipwreck that killed Leo’s parents? Whom else have they lured into the sea with their siren song? Where do they dock their boat outside the festival? Are there more mermaids? Do they know the creature Krobus swims with during his fourteen-heart event? Do they know who is littering in the ocean? How are they going to fight back against the pollution?
Did they willingly give the Mermaid’s Pendant to the Old Mariner, or was it stolen? Is it cursed? I think it is cursed, to be honest, because every marriage in this game is horrendous. What is their connection to the Old Mariner? Is the Old Mariner Poseidon, and is that why he only appears in the rain?
Just a few questions that I desperately need answered.
Once the mermaids kick me out because I only paid for the first showing of their dazzling performance, I’m going home to my favourite guy. Not before taking a detour to fill the Mayor’s home with items from the Trash Catalogue, since he is a trash person.
Then I’ll arrive at my shared home and consensually hug Krobus, so his ephemeral corporeal form knows how much he is appreciated, even if the Wizard won’t let him go outside.
Listen to Stardrop Tea!
I always love talking to Shirley. Every time I do, she gives me new Stardew Valley theories that live on in my head. What I love most about her is her definition of success; making the thing you want to make is a triumph in itself.
There is so much pressure to turn the things we love into content, and measure them by numbers and decide whether they were worth doing. But what really matters is did you have fun? Did you laugh? Did it bring a new person into your life?
It is important to be silly. It is important to keep asking strange questions. Curiosity and play aren’t things we should age out of. If anything, we need them more than ever!
You can listen to Stardrop Tea on Spotify, Apple Podcasts or Pocket Casts, or follow the show through its RSS feed. Pick up some Stardrop Tea merch too!
You can also listen to me talking shit about the mayor on an episode of Stardrop Tea!
Which Stardew Valley theory are you completely convinced by? And, more importantly, what did the Wizard do to the Witch?
I used to make a point to take the mayors underwear which I found in marneys bedroom and make them the center of my fair display. I’m just that kind of guy.