Weaving Gold

Mokosha, Anastasia Sophia, and Me, Natalia . . . while the books are written

Abandoning a Book

You are a Wild Thing, Natalia. You have strength and courage. You have a natural propensity to survive, grow, and bloom. But you must choose, Natalia. You must choose.
~ White Tiger’s message to me, one year ago

Menna van Praag‘s novels, House at the End of Hope Street and Dress Shop of Dreams, are similar in their magical, wish-granting themes to my WIP. Since Menna offers coaching, I scheduled a consultation. I sent her the first chapter of Zirka’s Zany Zenanigan’s, which I intended to finish during NaNo.

Professional Opinion

When Menna and I talked by Skype, she said that she liked my story, but that I would not be able to get an agent for the story as it is written. My main characters are happy and the book is structured as a series of short stories that are linked in the conclusion. She told me, quite clearly, how I would need to change the manuscript to sell it.

Some of the suggested changes were acceptable to me, but others were not. Minutes into our consult, I knew I would be putting the manuscript in a drawer. My decision was confirmed when Menna told me that if I did change the story and sell it, if the book were successful, the publisher would want me to write more of the same — which would be hugely problematic since my major WIP is completely different, and I don’t want to write anything else like Zirka.

Ultimately, I was RELIEVED after our consultation. The story had not been flowing. I had been feeling that it was not quite right. I want to get back to the Weaving Gold Chronicles.

Goodbye Zirka’s Zany Zennanigans. It was fun for a while, but now it is not, so you’re going in the drawer.

Hibernating 1



I decided that I’d like to insert a nonet at the beginning of each chapter. This one belongs on the page preceding Chapter 1.

Fading by RibbonDrop Manga & Anime / Digital Media / Drawings©2013-2014 RibbonDrop via Deviant Art

Living life washed my color away
Blue became beige, pink turned to grey
I let myself forget joy
Doing became my task
Busyness my flask
Success decoy
Awaken me
Come see



My journey began inside, when I moved from head to heart. Day by day, I moved outward, recognizing my passion and celebrating my wild wide. I leaped off the cliff.

My fall is safe, a drifting and gliding rather than a plummeting. I know that life isn’t as serious as I make it out to be. I trust that my journey will be smooth, my tasks easy, and my adventures joyful. Still, I am happy to take a moment for quiet and solitude.

I enter the sanctuary. Gold walls wrap me in ancient wisdom. The smell of incense transports me deeper into myself. Soft music lulls my chattering brain toward stillness.

Wrapping myself in a blanket, I prop my head on a cushion and drape a scented pillow over my eyes.


When we find no support among others for our deeply felt truths, we can either feel isolated and bitter, or celebrate the fact that our vision is strong enough even to survive the powerful human need for the approval of family, friends or colleagues. 

I celebrate my journey, decisions, and experiences. I worship my anxiety and excitement, uncertainty and knowing, panic and confidence. My passion is supported by solid gold. In the silence and aloneness, I know.

Inspired by Lyn Thruman‘s October Writing Challenge: Writing the Wisdom of the Soul. I am expanding, evolving, shaking in my shoes, and preparing to write for pleasure.

Prompt for October 14: Retreating from the world is a necessary part of growth, especially spiritual growth, as we can’t see our soul-light if it’s being doused by distractions.

Write about a place (real or imaginary) where you can retreat from the crazy-busy world into quietness and solitude. This is the place where your soul-light shines the brightest.


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