The Furious Spinner

In times of old, The Furies protected Mother Right. If a mother (or any woman) was harmed, The Furies swooped down and took their vengeance. They were one of the last vestiges of a world that existed before the patriarchy. When we feel righteous anger, it is The Furies who are calling out to us to make what is wrong right again.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Ruby's Imagine

As is tradition, I'll post the first page of my new novel here. First draft, written in Linda's garden this afternoon, with her dogs at my feet. If you'll remember, I read Opal to Linda as she lay dying. Opal's cadence and speech patterns were unique: she said it was because she was originally a French speaker; others said she was crazy—or a liar. I don't really care why it was, but I thought it was beautiful. I want Ruby to have her own cadence and way of speaking too. Ruby's story begins below; when it's finished I will dedicate it to Linda. Enjoy.

Ruby's Imagine

Moon Day

A butterfly the color of my name did tell me that a Big Spin was coming our way. I was standing by Mr. Grant’s wisteria which hung over his fence and down into our yard when Ruby Butterfly, this jeweled metamorphosis of a cattypillar, landed on a bright green wisteria leaf like some kind of winged oracle and looked straight at me; we exchanged glances, you know, the way liked-minded and soul-bodied creatures can. We understood one another down deep to our transfigured and transforming cellular parts, and I knew the Big Oaks had told Ruby Butterfly and now she was letting me in on the not so secret secret: a storm was coming. Her message was akin to “run fer ya lives” in Big Oak and Ruby Butterfly speak. Or “stay and watch if you the stomach fer it.”

Labels: Ruby's Imagine