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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Meditation By Candlelight

I was stuck in traffic.  A ritual occurrence in Los Angeles and while staring blankly at the endless red glow of brake lights ahead, a poem popped into my head just last night.  I was thinking about where we are at as a society versus where we were two hundred years ago… How so much effort used to go into items, art, and food that we now vastly take for granted with our modern conveniences.  How materialism and consumerism have driven us into a vicious cycle of demand and discard.

Technology is by far a great thing, as I am able to type this from my office in one part of the world and you are able to read this in another.  It has connected the world.  It has saved lives.  It has redefined us.

Candlelight though, the incandescence, the way it plays in the air, the way it fades reminds me of a time before traffic and plastic and instant gratification.  A time before technology as it is today.  It makes me think of Beethoven composing a symphony.  It makes me think of Charlotte Bronte penning Jane Eyre.  The candle always makes me think of history.  How many candles illuminated the happenings of great events, ideas and people?  When I sit by a candle I share in that legacy.  And when I think about it, it makes me feel connected to a time before me.

 

Meditation by candlelight, 

To hone a craft. 

A stitch 

A stroke 

A note. 

How far have we come? 

How far will we go? 

Until we find purpose 

Again. 

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