Spiderling

To keep myself sane while dabbling in the art of the query letter, synopsis, pitch and the overall heartache of trying to get a literary agent, I write short stories when not editing my novel and its series (in addition to reading, participating in webinars, studying blogs, and hanging out on writer’s forums).

I came up with an idea a while back that would allow a black widow spider to be the heroine of a story. And spiders in general.

I would consider it fantasy / magical realism.  At 2:00 in the morning, I was lying in bed battling insomnia and the opening popped into my head.  Insomnia is sometimes productive.  It’s a decent opening.  Definitely something to work with 🙂

Twinkle, twinkle, little spider. Perhaps if the lyricist knew what she was looking at then the lyrics would be different.  But all she got was a glimmer, a reflection of moonlight off the back of the industrious spider, maintaining her magnificent web up above the world so high.  

She is a servant to the Master of Dreams.  One of many.  A spider with a special web constructed to fabricate dreams and snare nightmares and occasionally prevent a rogue filament of dreamspace from falling to earth.  She makes her web from starlight and clouds, and sometimes ice and twilight which is why she and her sisters are so difficult to see.  That is dreamspace and it exists in plain sight but is invisible to all but those who know where to look.  And usually those who know where to look, only ever catch a glimpse in their entire lifespan.  

While she cleaned her web and repaired holes, a rogue filament came into existence.  When she first saw it, it appeared to be nothing more than gossamer and stardust.  But gradually it took form.  The spider knew she should catch it and wrap it in her web and end it there.  It became a girl, a human girl and sat naked on her web.  Then it spoke.  

“I have purpose,” the girl said.  

The spider knew purpose was the very first principle of existence.  The rest, she didn’t know.  She did know that humans needed clothes in the human world and quickly created garments for the girl.  

“I need a name,” the girl said.  

“I don’t create human  names,” the spider replied.  “A human will have to name you.”

“Then give me a spider name,” the girl said.  

And the spider did.  Then she created a sail for the girl and let her go.  The spider knew that she had done wrong and that the Master of Dreams would be furious but the girl already had purpose. 

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Life is Strange

It is ironic and sadistic and twisted and somehow beautiful.  It is a struggle  and a different struggle for different people.  I often wonder how people do it all.  Or don’t.  But regardless, life is strange.

I have been working hard trying to get a literary agent.  My query has been through so many revisions, I have lost count.  One agent requested my material but sadly my opening pages didn’t draw her in.  They should have.  So I am back at the drawing board there.  She did say that I have good prose.  I at least have that going for me.  Then one day I get an unexpected email from an agency that wants to represent, distribute and promote my  music.  Ha.  Once upon a time I had a Myspace page for my music under the alias Vienna Gulbransen.  That was my composer name and unless you hung out in Portland, Oregon from 2003-2007 and were involved in some obscure indie film projects then I wouldn’t expect you to know me.  Anyway, the Myspace page apparently still exists out there and that is how the agency found me.  I immediately deleted the email as I am 99.95% certain that it is nothing more than a scam.

According to the agent there has been a “resurgence of interest” in my music.  So that being said, I posted quite a few of my live piano recordings on Soundcloud and will eventually post rejected cues from my brief stint as a film composer.  The cue that supposedly garnered attention was my synthesizer experiment called “Clocks.”

And here it is:

I hope you enjoyed that 🙂

Whatever you’re doing out there, keep at it.  You’ll get there.  Endure the struggle, put up the fight.  Let the fire forge you.  Pull yourself through the mire, climb out of the pit, don’t stay down too long.  And be wary of the unscrupulous.