Moss Whispers

This is as far as my fingers could go on this today. Painting tomorrow!

She scuffed to her knees, looked round for her shoe,

In her ears her mother’s voice blew through.

“Martha Julia Agnes Adele,

” You’ll lose your shoes if you don’t tie them well!”

Yesterday and today I have been attending a Picture Book Writer’s Boot Camp online! It has been incredibly motivating and instructional. I’ve so much to learn about writing and illustrating! I now know why I haven’t til now submitted my book to an agent or publisher! It’s incredibly difficult for me to write something as ‘simple’ as a query letter! Perhaps I have stretched a few writing muscles these two days! And now to get back to Martha Julia Agnes Adele. Tonight I’ve been trying to learn more what she looks like, how she moves, sits, thinks, etc. These are a few of her poses, though I haven’t found the one that goes with the next part of her story.

Still playing with the order of her name. Right now I’m trying Martha Julia Agnes Adele. Martha and Adele are my grandmothers. And Julia and Agnes are Alex’s grandmothers. I was just looking for old fashion names that had a good rhythm and it just happened that way. Martha is also my wonderful sister’s name! And Adele, my magical fairy aunt.

Martha Julia Agnes Adele

Stubbed her toe, then tripped and fell.

“Oh, diddle duff! she grumbled and fussed.

“Too many pebbles and too much dust!”

Perhaps this is the little girl’s name? And I just don’t know what to do when things materialize over and over in rhyme. I tried so hard not to let this happen. Started it in prose, and it just keeps rhythmically rewriting itself!

Martha Agnes Julia Adele stubbed her toe, then tripped and fell!

“Oh, diddle duff!” she grumbled and fussed, “too many pebbles and too much dust!”

She scuffed to her knees and looked round for her shoe, in her ears her mother’s voice blew through.

“Martha Agnes Julia Adele, you wouldn’t lose your shoes if you tied them well!”

She hadn’t tied her shoes quite right, and as she kicked the pebble, her shoe took flight.

But for Martha Agnes Julia Adele, an adventure was about to begin, quite well!

“What’s this?”  she felt underneath her feet? A marvelous, magnificent pebblestone street!

“I’ve stubbed myself into quite a surprise! A marvelous village, just my size!”

Martha Agnes Julia Adele jumped to her feet and skipped quite well!

“There’s something strange in the air around here…a mysterious fog makes me (things?) disappear!”

As this little girl steps along CobbleStoneWay, with one shoe on and the other shoe gone, she comes upon a snail slowly making her way also along what seems to her like BolderStoneWay. (I’m aware that we’ve already encountered a very bold naked slug who wasn’t shy at all about kissing The Fairy of the Castle of the Heart.) At some point soon I will need to call a halt to the onslaught of characters that keep coming forth wanting to be cast as key figures in this next book! Soon I will need to call them all together and weave the magic story web. For now, I don’t want to exclude any possibilities. So, today, I was quite impressed with the persistence of this snail! And I have in the back of my mind. (the back of my mind is SO FULL!), an image of the beautiful snail that my cousin, Dillard posted for me on Facebook. Quite a majestic one at that!

!

So now there enters a little girl, not sure what her name is…Queen Lichen? Littlest? PenelopeLou? ? She’s stepped onto the Cobble Stone Way and is looking for her lost shoe.  I don’t know much about her yet, except

That she is pretty confident and adventurous, outspoken, and innocent to the ways of The Hillock. All I know for now.

I just checked up on myself by researching how owls see, and I realize now that I wrote all of this based on a wrong assumption! How could I have so mis-perceived how owls ‘perceive’?!  Well, I’ve learned that’ it’s better to do my research before rather than after! And that’s worth knowing. And perhaps there’s more to learn from my mis-perception. I think I’ll post this and see what else I can learn!

Owl was WISE. Everyone came to him to learn how to see more clearly.

He could see so much from his high place, even to the farthest of far. Everyone knew that he could give them the real picture of things, even things they couldn’t see. He was known to see spots that were blind to every creature and critter who lived on the Hillock floor.

And yet as…

One eye looked west and one looked east,

Owl’s view of the Hillock he thought was complete.

Until one day he became quite dizzy.

From too many Whooo’s and too much busy.

As each eye spinned  to see a different place,

He no longer saw The Hillock through Queen Anne’s Lace!

For the first time ever Owl saw things newly.

And for the first time ever both eyes saw truly.

ALL seemed different and so profound.

Each eye beheld The Hillock with a puzzled frown!

His western eye  saw the privileged few.

And his eastern eye saw what workers do.

WHHOOOO WHOOOO!! Owl asked his deepest thoughts.

WHOOOOO can untie such unfair knots?

He ruffled his feathers and panned through the branches,

To find such a creature bold enough to take chances.

Perhaps the potter, a bug or a bird?

No not so…, even more absurd.

A tiny young girl was skipping right through.

Looking here and there for her tiny lost shoe.

When I just write…words go on and on. When I write with a rhythm, it automatically morphs into rhyme. I’m hoping to not end up using rhyme, but for now, that’s how I’m getting my thoughts to come out! I find it easier to keep things more crystallized. I keep hoping the rhyme will disappear, but sofar it hasn’t. So for now, I’ll let it help me stay focused. Crazy how that happens.  So here’s what happened. Gives one possible way to start, but not necessarily the simplest or chosen one yet.

Old Owl noticed  The Hillock from his high up nest.

One eye looked East  and one looked West.

On the eastern slopes under the old oak tree,

He watched royalty sipping afternoon tea.

Yet on the western side as the sun was setting

He saw simple folk working,  panting, and sweating.

For…down at the Hillock on the royal part,

Lived the one winged bird near the Castle of the Heart.

Life was easy. Not a care or a woe.

Everything came with an easy flow.

The old aqueduct carried water and mail.

And the snail queen painted her diamond trail.

The cedar swayed with a sassy bend.

Critter seahorse frolicked til each day’s end ….

Yet on the western side of the large old oak,

Lived simple, hardworking, humbler folk.

For them there was hardly any pomp and play.

The potter dug deep and worked for his clay.

The artist cried as she felt their pain.

And the cooks worked tirelessly through wind and rain.

Postal people sent bottles to the queen.

And the aqueduct delivery system was kept smooth and clean.

Preena’s spa polished  royal crowns.

And fluffed up sheets of milkweed down.

The metalworker toiled through heat and wind

To craft tools and needles for every job’s mend.

Down at The Hillock, I keep walking around the big old oak tree in the middle, looking at all the places and possible characters. So many starts and restarts! Which way to go? Which character (s) will jump on the page and say, “I’m ready to take this one!” I think I’ve been nurturing this setting so long that it’s teeming with life every way I look! 

Yesterday and today were big writing days as well as researching how to publish my Jingle book. I researched agents that represent children’s author/illustrators, writing groups, workshops, classes, etc. And then I’d write some more, stopping every now and then to sand and paint a library stool or two. I wrote some possible ways to organize the story.

•meeting held to talk about some crisis at the hillock…The Crisis: for generations things have always been seen a certain way…and suddenly some new ray of light/shift in nature/…squeezes their consciousness to a sharper perception…the return of a lost villager? or the loss of an old ruler? or the arrival of a new ‘princess’ or a stranger? with news of another way? evolution of a new language?

Three changes have happened to cause the call for all villagers(hillockers) to come together:

1.a huge supply of acorns was falling to the ground all at once!..or is it…the big shade branch on the south side has fallen, leaving a big hole in the sky, with new rays awakening old consciousness in the hillock

2.the regal snail has lost her crowning glory, her jeweled shell, reducing her to the status and stature of a common slug

3.more and more holes appear on the Hillock floor for some unknown reason, no evident cause for such change in the earth’s surface.

People disagree on how to solve the crisis (perhaps they only see what’s going on on THEIR side of the Hillock)

They notice someone is missing at the meeting WHO IS IT?)

They have evidence of a note written in some foreign script that they can’t understand

The lowliest or most unlikely character comes forth with an idea/solution/found object/new way of looking at things.

This character must prove worthy of the villagers’ trust to solve this problem:

•decipher this new language

•brave the underworld

•help everyone in the Hillock let go of their old way of seeing things and learn/embrace a new way.

The villagers must prove that they, too, can be trusted to change:

•be willing to switch sides of the Hillock to learn how the other side lives and views the world.

•be willing to learn a new language so together they can create a new way to communicate with others not like themselves.

•make a shift in thought about something thought impossible before.

Then I decided to just write! And I’ll share that tomorrow!

I’m thinking that this guy named Slab may be the Potter, but I’m not sure yet. I’m just trying to gather all the writings that I have about the hillock characters and see what other character clues unfold. Oh, dear!…

Slab’s legs were tired after a long day in the tunnels looking for a very special kind of clay for a very important commission by the Hillock Queen.  He had been commissioned to create a tile for her outdoor kitchen that could withstand even the hottest fires of dragon’s breath. And on top of that, it needed to have qualities that would resist smoke damage and discoloration. Where would he EVER find clay that would be so impenetrable and so resilient? His four legs dragged him toward ground level and the light he saw shining through the tunnel opening. Even the light was almost gone now. Evening was approaching and twilight songs began to echo through the tunnel walls. The crickets were especially loud tonight.

As he neared the round opening just below the Owl’s cedar tree, he felt a droplet of water land on his scorched lips. Aaaaahhhh he sounded as he swallowed the refreshing evening droplet of dew. As his last leg pushed him out of his hole onto the cool ground, he sighed out the last bits of dust in his lungs and breathed in moist mist of and emergence of the first stars of the night.

From dawn to dusk he had been on his hunt for the treasured clay, and with no success to show for his diggings and dark explorations. So NOW what do I do? Do I dare risk new tunnels in the unknown hillock or do I start all over again through the same tunnels tomorrow? Whatever shall I do? He lay his dry aching body on the warmth of his bedstone, leaning he head on the squishy moss pillow, hoping for some dream to solve what he couldn’t on his own four legs and a whole days work.

Many a night’s dream had guided him to resolution of a days problems as he would awaken the morning. Tonight was one of those nights he heavily counted on to bring such resolution….his lids closed the last bits of light from his consciousness as he eagerly drifted off to sleep.

….across the CobbleStoneWay on the eastern slope of The Hillock, some clicking sounds were competing with the rhythm of the crickets’ chorus. Clickeree! Clickeree! Clicke…….out crept two shiny black beetles.