I was nominated to take part in this photo challenge by Ali Isaac, who has a wonderful blog filled with fascinating tales of Irish mythology – check it out if you haven’t already, you learn something new with every post. I would like to nominate three of my blogging compadres to take up this photo challenge…

1. Ula because I think she’s fascinating and would love to see what she shoots

2. Keith – because he’s an awesome photographer already

See the rules below, never been much of a rule follower, so not only am I doing this over five weeks instead of five days, I highly doubt I’ll only post one story too! :p

The photo is of a common garden spiders nest of babies. Whilst they are growing as eggs they shed a skin. Once born they cling together usually in balls – but in trying to capture a macro shot I disturbed them – until they shed their second skin. 

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I really hate spiders, mostly because I’m terrified. Not just a little squeak and run away scared. I’m the shove you out the way, jump on chairs, hyperventilate kind of scared. It’s those dark hairy legs. *shudder*. The thought of one crawling over me with those eight little legs dancing on my bear skin. Oh my god, I have to stop describing it my shoulders are twitching and I have goosebumps just thinking about it.

As part of the challenge I have to do a story – I’m going to do two (told you I couldn’t follow rules).

First up a personal one:

The wife and I had taken a jolly in her car – unusual at the time because I had just bought my new car and so understandably we were using mine a lot. The wife drove, she always does. I have no idea why because I constantly get car sickness unless I drive. But anyway, she was driving. If you know me – you know I have a thing about eyebrows – I could go out in crappy clothes covered in baby puke and without make up on. But I cannot leave the house unless my eyebrows are penciled in. Just can’t. Well I took my trusty artists pencil with me and needed to slap the paint on. So I pulled down the visor. I swear it was the size of a horse. Not a pony, but a fucking great big shire horse.

My wife says she can’t recall a time she has seen me move faster and she certainly can’t understand the physics of how I ended up still strapped into the front passenger seat whilst being physically located in the back. She also could not help unstrap me because she was in pieces laughing at my shrieks of horror. I was not laughing. I was cursing her for having a three door car. I was trapped in the back, with the tarantula about to advance on me and EAT ME. I was not laughing because I was too busy trying to climb through the boot to get out of the car. Here’s the little bastard:

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My second story is in honour of my challenger, Ali. Ali is amazing at retelling mythological tales, so I thought I would do some research in her honour and look to see if their was a myth based on spiders, although I shan’t attempt a retelling – I’ll leave that to the expert :).

The symbology of spiders is an interesting one. I had wrongly (because I’m shit scared) assumed it would be all horror stories and pincers. But actually although spiders are predators they are commonly seen as the Great Mother. A weaver of destinies. Weaver coming from their web creating skills. In Cameroon they represent diligence and wisdom and in China a spider on a thread is a symbol of luck. Spiders weave webs like we do our lives, making choices that become the constructs of our lives, as they are the structures for their houses.

The Hopi (Native Americans) have a creation story with a spider woman as the goddess of the Earth. With the sun god Tawa, they created the first two beings.

In Greek mythology there was a girl called Arachne who was arrogant about her skills as a weaver. She refused to acknowledge that her gift came in part from the goddess Athena goddess of war and handicraft. Athena gave Arachne the chance to beg for forgiveness and be humble- when she refused Athena challenged her to a weaving contest. Arachne produced stunning woven work and Athena was angry at the high quality of her work so in a war like rage she destroyed it. Arachne became depressed that her masterpiece was destroyed and hung herself on a rope. Athena took pity and loosened the rope noose which became a web and she turned into a spider so she could weave forevermore. This is where we get the class name Arachnid from.

You can find out more about the myth here.

Below is the rest of the photos I took trying to get a good one. I have a macro lens for my iPhone, which means I had to get up close and personal with a ball of spiders – you can imagine my delight. Why I chose this as my first shot I have no idea!

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The rules of the Five Photos, Five Stories Challenge are:

1) Post a photo each day for five consecutive days. (Sorry I’m cheating and going to do it once a week!)
2) Attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, or a short paragraph. It’s entirely up to the individual.
3) Nominate another blogger to carry on the challenge. Your nominee is free to accept or decline the invitation. This is fun, not a command performance!

The post Five Day Photo Challenge #1 – Spidermare appeared first on Sacha Black.

I don’t mind admitting I’m a selfish reader. I’ve always read exactly what I want for no other reason than, I felt like it. So I never paid much attention to whether or not it was useful or beneficial. But now, as a writer, whilst I still need some of that escapism by falling into a good book, I’ve come to realise I also need to read to aid my writing – and I’m not just talking about non fiction books that teach you writing skills. This is part one in a two part series, looking at reading like a writer – reading what you NEED and reading what you WANT.

When I was at school I hated Shakespeare. I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand any of his wordy sentences, or the elaborate metaphors. I figured he was just another drunk writer that got famous after he died. But then, my discontent was probably more to do with the prescription of school and the incessant deconstruction of texts, than Shakespeare himself. It wasn’t until I voluntarily picked up Shakespeare in my teens that I really grew a deep appreciation for him.

I outlined my writing process and 8 steps to discover your own perfect process last week. I’m drawing close to the end of the first draft of my novel and as a result have started to think about second and third drafts and what might need doing, which led me to Shakespeare. In my second and third drafts come the detail and description.

Whilst I have lots of ideas and a vivid imagination to create plots worlds and characters, as someone who primarily learned to write academic stuff, actually being able to convey the images in my head with enough poetic description to conjure fantastical worlds for readers, takes more practice than I’ve had. I need a parrot constantly sitting on my shoulder barking “Context, Context, Description,” reminders at me. I’m referring to similes, metaphors, and descriptively evocative passages.

So as a writer, that’s what I NEED to read. I need to find novels, passages, and poetry that are spectacular examples of creating vivid imagery through context and description. Who better than Shakespeare himself. (yes there are lots of writers I could have looked at, but I fancied a bit of Shakespeare today!)

Do you know what your weaknesses are as a writer? Could your dialogue do with a brush up? Maybe your characters aren’t quite as full of life as you would like, or maybe your world hasn’t come across the way you thought it would. None of us are perfect. So there will be something you can work on. If you don’t know what you need to develop, then ask someone else. Ask a trusted person who won’t crush you, but will be honest at the same time. When you work out what you need to practice, research writers who excel at it.

It’s ironic that I hated the thought of deconstructing Shakespeare at school, and now that’s exactly what I am about to do! Although there’s a lot we can learn from Shakespeare, for the purposes of this post, and in support of thinking about my next draft I’m focusing specifically on his poetic style and ability to create spectacular imagery.

My favourite passage of Shakespeare’s depicts this beautifully. It’s slightly dark but I adore the imagery and tragic metaphors in it. I give you, Macbeth’s final soliloquy:

She should have died hereafter;

There would have been a time for such a word.

— To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury

Signifying nothing.

— Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28)

I’ve bolded the bit that I really love.

‘Life’s but a walking shadow’ in other words life’s just an illusion. I don’t know about you, but I think that’s a powerful image. It reminds me of Peter Pan’s shadow, prancing around mocking the kids in Wendy’s nursery. I think the way he takes ‘life’ such a complex concept and uses such a simple comparison to draw a powerful image is quite frankly awe inspiring. But that’s the point, right? Use imagery to turn complex concepts into simple images. Sounds simple… *slaps forehead, pulls at face – wishes it was that simple*.

‘a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more.’ A poor actor who struts and worries for his hour on the stage and then is never heard from again. Such a sad image; an actor who works slaves for lifetime, practicing through the blood sweat and tears to finally get a break and then, only gets 15 minutes of fame. Forgotten forever, like the army of hopeful thespians who came before him, and the budding recruits yet to come. Sad, yet cuttingly true – not everyone can be famous.

The last line, ‘It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury Signifying nothing.’

Life is a story told by an idiot, full of noise and emotional disturbance but devoid of meaning. Not sure how comfortable I am with the sweeping generalization we’re all idiots! But I get his point. We do get caught up in the mundane, or caught up in the shallow intricacies of fads and social hierarchy, and that ultimately is meaningless. Does he really mean that life is meaningless? I hope not, I like to think he is making a point that Macbeth’s life was pointless – he spent it doing despicable acts, and if you do the same, then at the end, life becomes meaningless. Macbeth lived the life of a shadow, an illusion of life.

Isn’t that a wonderful image? Ok, I read into a lot, and the average reader skims through words at a thousand knots trying to get to the end of the chapter, see what happens next. But if I can convey even a slither of that imagery I would be a happy lady.

Tell me in the comments below: do you know what your weakness is? If so, what is it? And what authors do you (or will you) try and learn from?

The post Learn To Read Like A Writer – Read What You NEED appeared first on Sacha Black.