Why It Works for Me – Joanell Serra’s “The Vines We Planted”

This is the twelfth in a series I’m doing wherein I discuss why a particular piece of writing works for me, aka, this piece of writing taught me something about writing, encouraged me to be a better writer, engaged me, captivated me, educated me, et cetera.

As I’ve written elsewhere, it’s one thing to know something is good, it’s a better thing (in my opinion) to know why it’s good and then be able to copy what’s good about it, to learn from it so you can be as good and (hopefully) better.

This time out, Joanell Serra’s “The Vines We Planted”.

 

 

Shaman Story Chapter X – The Childhood Door

[I mentioned in Shaman Story Chapter 5 – Lessons that chapter numbering would get wonky as Shaman Story is a work in progress.
At this point, I’m adding chapters to the beginning to foreshadow events happening in later chapters, this one being a case in point.
I’ve learned to live with such things. Hope you do, too.]

Read Shaman Story Chapter 7 – Sensing.

Shaman Story Chapter X – The Childhood Door

 

Buppa stops, turns, let’s me see him in another place. Somewhere beyond the moon, under the sea, through his garden, into the earth.

A big wooden door, made from trees and branches all woven together, leaves grow out of limbs making eaves and lintels. There’s a little window but it’s too high for me to see in. A light flickers through the glass. A candle.

“What’s that, Buppa?”

“It’s a door, a very special door. But only for you, Gio, not for anybody else.”

“It’s my door?”

“Yes, but only if you want to learn more. If you want to learn more you have to go in.”

The door has no handle. I step closer, onto a mat of tightly woven hay and flax.

The mat opens eyes. It lifts and spins like it’s caught in a whirlwind. It pushes me back, grows four legs, a spiky tail and a giant head. The woven flax and hay become golden fur. It stops spinning and lands on its feet, larger than me, larger than Buppa, larger than the door.

It looks down at me. “Are you afraid, Gio?”

“Yes.”

“Good answer, truthful answer. Do you want to go in?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I don’t know what’s expected. “To learn more?”

The creature smiles. It has many, many teeth, like needles. It drools. Its drool splashes and steams like acid on ground that isn’t there. “Are you asking or telling?”

I want my Buppa. He’s not here. He’s always with me. Where’s my Buppa?

“Anything else?”

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Late Night Guest

Sometimes I wake late in the night (or early in the morning) with something write downable.

It’s an authoring thing.

When I do, I check for guests.

Never know who may be joining me at the table.

It’s comforting to know The Old Ones are out and about.

Case in point, Opinetta the opossum.

Often, knowing our guests are taken care of, I write more profoundly.

Not necessarily better, merely with more energy.

It’s a good thing.

 

Given an option to learn or remain ignorant, which do you choose?

I continue having fascinating online interactions. They convince me my wiring differs from most others’.

Case in point, someone contacted me with

I’m reaching out because I just put up my new dystopian science fiction novel as an ARC ebook on book funnel and wanted to reach out to you to see if you’d be willing to read and post a review on Goodreads and bookbub (amazon a little later, official release is 10/7/20). I’ve attached the book cover to hopefully entice your decision. I can send additional information if necessary as well. Also, lmk if you have a new book coming out and I will do the same for you. Thank you, hope all is well on your end. Be safe and be well.

First, kudos for asking before bamming me.

I responded
Continue reading “Given an option to learn or remain ignorant, which do you choose?”