Demigod

Sweatshirt Mystique, photo by Amelia Bane

The past few days, I’ve been receiving text messaged photos of my book in people’s hands. It’s starting to ship from Amazon and it’s really exciting. But also some of the anxiety I was anticipating. I’m not one for keeping secrets (anymore)–as you know–but still, I feel a little vulnerable, a little bit like I might be received differently in the world once so many people I interact with daily have read it.  And also, I’m sorry if it makes you sad. But you know how it ends–I’m okay. I’m here writing this blog.

My younger son is way into Greek Mythology. He writes haiku about Greek gods, considers himself a “Greek Mythologist.” It’s been hard for him to find a place to worship. He asked me one day, as we were driving to school, “Mama, if you were a demigod, which God do you think would be your parent?”  Such a great question, particularly because Greek gods are so flawed, their very strengths are their weaknesses (doesn’t that sound familiar?).  So what is your supernatural side?  This is an excellent chance to do some research for your writing.  We write a lot from personal experience, but research–any kind of reading or conversation or seeking that we apply to inform our writing–can really help us transform how we think about our experiences and ourselves.  In my groups I don’t necessarily get the chance to push that, because our time is so limited, but in my writing, time spent reading and discussing ideas is as important (perhaps slightly more important in some ways) as time spent with pen to paper.  It can also give me some space from the really heavy experiences.

This prompt is about that reach.  Below is my writing to it, excerpted from my book–plugging the book again, are you sick of that?

IF YOU WERE A DEMI-GOD

Athena of reason, of strength, of literature. Companion of heroes. Athena cracks through her father’s skull, fully formed. She is never seen helpless, vulnerable, in need. Goddess of the loom weaving delicate, breakable strands into story, creating a holograph of meaning.

A woman who turned a lesser woman into a spider for saying she could defeat her.

What sweet smelling mortal did she succumb to? What words did he use to convince her to shrink to the size of an ordinary woman?

At which moment did she admit the limits of her surrender, realize that he would never understand her responsibilities to the children of war? When she stood, forearms still sticky with the juice of fruit from his garden, shaking flowers from her hair as she lifted the helmet back onto her head, when she returned to godly proportions, did she miss the simple task of sweeping cobwebs from corners with a broom?

And finally, a video. Also promoting the book.  I’m really excited about the book, you guys.  It took a long time.  I worked really hard on it.