[…] And a good question it must have been, since as she’d typed it she’d felt an electric tingle across her shoulders and chest; the solar plexus was stimulated. She knew little about chakras but she knew enough about her own body to know that god, that whatever-it-was-she-believed-in, was communicating with her there, was telling her she was “on to” something.
And now the feeling stirred further in her torso, and spread up to her head, causing every part of her to feel alive; and she felt herself suddenly as a being created from individual molecules which vibrated with dynamism.
Was that the right word? It hardly mattered. Now a tiny drop of moisture arriving at the outer corner of her left eye. Why did she document that? Her face was as stone, there was no visible emotion; if someone had taken a photo of her they would find no romantic but just a strange woman on a bed, in running clothes, sitting with her back against a small low window, legs stretched out before her, fully-covered; socked feet crossed lightly at the ankles. Both hands moving along the black keys of a silver laptop, perhaps weaving thoughtfully, carefully, pausing every now and then, like spiders building webs.
Was that the wrong simile? She did not in any way feel a predator. She was aware of her body from inside, that was all; she was in a place where finally, finally she did not care how her body nor her spirit nor her mind looked from outside.
Beyond the window the trees were at last yellowing as a community; the railing was weathered, now-silvered knotted pine; a breeze shivered the white globe lantern which dangled on its line. The oak, only a small portion of it visible within the forward window frame; the end of one limb like a robust hand, with its leathered leaves; waving slightly.
1377 words. now she wished she’d taken a document-snapshot before editing the second-to-last paragraph. The editing erased the tingles as well, which made the final product ironic.
Command-Z back to before. Snapshot. Shift-command-Z back to now.
Should she leave that paragraph as it had been? Or leave it with the spiders added in? Had she described the spiders adequately enough? Honestly, the spiders in her mind for this scene were not in any way malevolent nor frightening; not like the large wolfish spiders she sometimes found in the attic bath; they were as the ones in her homeland rainforest, colourful and delicate, translucent in the light, and very finely-moving, never rapid; always in an orb.
Like the one in Charlotte’s Web, weaving words with which to learn, to instruct, and to finally, perhaps most of all, using one’s body for what it was designed to do, and hopefully with pleasure, before ultimately dying.
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*Document snapshot = Some novel-writing software, such as Scrivener, allows users to record various versions/drafts (in one document) of a single scene or chapter, that can later bee reviewed, compared and/or reverted to.
03:49 Dear friends, this is Day 2 of NaNoWriMo, and above is an excerpt from yesterday’s morning novel-writing session. I did make (and exceed) my hopeful daily quota of 1667 words (yay!), and I hope I will again, today. But first I must sleep for a couple of hours. For some strange reason (perhaps because I finally, for once, went to bed early?) I woke in the middle of the night; which rarely happens for me. I thought “well, I might as well write”; so got out of bed and came downstairs to sit by the fire. But the fire had nearly gone out; and instead of doing my pages, or rekindling the coals, I ended up surfing Instagram. Dang. Though there are some inspiring folks out there.
I must admit it’s hard for me to write the truth, but once I get started, it is the only thing that feels perfectly right, in that moment.
So grateful to each of you for your support and commentary, and for some of your writings. These illuminate my in-between hours. Sending love.
p.s. loved this quote:
“What if we all started to focus on our superpowers? What if we saw our superpowers as our ability to forgive, our ability to care, our ability to make someone smile, our ability to connect, our ability to listen, or our ability to comfort?” – Maria Shriver #ivebeenthinking
p.p.s. still plenty of time to try novelling if you want to! One day at a time! And, the more the merrier. :))
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Nadine inhales & exhales words & images from current vantage point in Zone of Emptiness, France. Thank you for reading. ❤︎