Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

Another Orpheus visit to the Other Realm November 27, 2012

Here’s a chunk from today’s NaNoWriMo scribblings.  I confess that I have lost a bit of inspiration about what’s going on in Grace Awakening Destiny, (Book 4) I’ve decided that any novel writing counts, so long as it’s new writing.  I have some holes I want to patch in Grace Awakening Myth, (Book 3)  and here is a patch for your entertainment:


“ARES! I shouted.  “Get out here, you coward!”  I stomped in a circle around a foggy clearing, trying to force it into something less ethereal.

“Shouting is so immature, Orpheus,” declared a bored feminine voice, manifesting a throne behind her..  “Aren’t you a little old for such theatrics?”  She looked down her elegant nose and then added, “But of course, you’re all about the theatre, aren’t you?”

“Hera.  Isn’t Ares a little old to be sending his mommy out to fight his battles?”

She smiled, but it was a dangerous thing, like the tantalizing blossom of a poisonous plant.  “My son is busy right now.  Unlike you, he has important things to do.”

“Your definition of important and mine are rather different.  What is he doing?  Is he fueling some holy war or training up Middle Eastern terrorists?  Doesn’t the Earthly Realm deserve a break from war?”

“The humans don’t want a break from war, silly boy.  Giving up war would mean giving up their quest for wealth and power.  Humans are all about power.  They all want to be in control.  They get it by buying favour.  They get it by killing little men, so they can crawl on their backs, to attain what the little men don’t even dare to dream about.  Their glory is being trodden upon by those climbing over their pathetic lives.  They’re just ants, Orpheus.  And if Ares wants to play with his magnifying glass, why should anyone stop him?  It’s all humans are good for, after all, entertaining us.”  She shrugged, dismissing the entire human race with the slightest of movements of her shoulder.

“My wife isn’t an ant.  My friends aren’t ants.”  I said.

“Wife?” she laughed.  “Now you imagine that she’s your wife?  I seem to recall that she is the prize of whoever wins this challenge, and victory is very unlikely to be yours.  She is not ever going to be your wife again.”  She stepped closer to me, and stared with eyes of ice.  “My son is a god of war, Orpheus,” she spat.  “He is not one of your pathetic little musician friends.  He is not a dancing girl like those Graces.”  She curled her lips and snarled.  “He is powerful, and you will not defeat him.  Now go!  Return to those pathetic creatures and their pathetic lives.  You are not worthy to be in this realm.”


NaNoWriMo Day 27 total: 4118  (November total 41,006)

Writing furiously this evening, after a raff of medical appointments today.


forever June 23, 2012

Filed under: Mythology,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:55 pm
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“No measure of time with you will be long enough, but let’s start with forever.”

Edward’s wedding  speech

Twilight Breaking Dawn (pt 1)

Having just finished draft two of Grace Awakening Myth, this whole “I’ll love you forever, if all those evil doers keep out of my way long enough” thing has been on my mind.  Is it easier to love someone forever when you have to keep fighting for them?  If someone is just always ‘there’ and not at risk, is it too easy to take them for granted?

Here are Bella and Edward at their wedding, finally everything is going their way, but no one gets happy ever after at the beginning of a book.  Forever has to work through adversity.


Sasquatch sighting in Cinnemousun Narrows June 9, 2012

Angela, an astute reader of this blog and member of the Facebook Fan Page, has sent me a link to two reports of Shuswap Lake Sasquatch sightings filed with the Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization:  Angela feels this report adds credibility to the Sasquatch reports in Grace Awakening Power.

This is not the first time I have written something, only to discover that  it fit into research or recorded history.  I find it quite amazing that the reports identify sightings in almost the same places as they occur in Grace Awakening Power.

What do you think?  Is it the equivalent of ‘dry wall stilts’ as Grace had initially alleged or is there more to this than meets the eye?

Thanks Angela for freaking us out over here at!


Graces for charity May 22, 2012

Here’s a wonderful opportunity for you.  Support Rochester Minnesota Women’s Shelter by purchasing beautiful jewellery themed on the Three Graces designed by Carole Kent-Kirckof.  I just bought a bracelet.  Lovely stuff.


ballet of Orpheus May 14, 2012

Filed under: Mythology — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:42 am
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And now, for something completely different…

Pas de Deux of Orpheus and Euridike from the much acclaimed ‘timelapse/(Mnemosyne)’ created by choreographer David Dawson for Dutch National Ballet (2011)



O plans a day travelling through the dawn April 6, 2012

Filed under: Grace Awakening Myth,Mythology — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:06 am
Tags: , , ,

I waved franticially as the glowing horses approached, “Eos!  Slow down!”

“I don’t have time for you, O!” she called back, raising the reins and snapping them.

“Just make some room on the chariot.  Come on.”

“You’ll add stress to the horses.”

I raised my eyebrows and she glanced away with a dramatic sigh.  “Fine.  Get on.”  She shuffled over a bit.

I leapt up and squeezed beside her.  The chariot was only made for one.  We were uncomfortably close.

“What is it?”  Her breath was soft, with a faint tinge of coriander.

“I was wondering…”

“I’m not slowing down for you,” she broke in.

“I didn’t ask you to!”

She sighed.  “It’s the only thing anyone ever asks me.  I’m not stupid.  You want me to slow down a day:”

“That’s not what I want.”  I met her eyes, bouncing slightly with the movement of the horses.  “I thought I could help you out.  I wondered if you needed a break.”

“A break?”  She studied me suspiciously.  “What do you mean ‘a break’?”

“A break.  A day off.  A chance to get off the back of this chariot to do something you want to do.”

Her eyes grew large.  “Seriously?”

I nodded.  “You work so hard.  You deserve a break.”


“When would you like to get away?”

“Tomorrow?” she whispered wistfully.

“Sure.  I’ll take the day off school.  I’ll meet  you at five?”

“Perfect.”  She sighed happily, her golden eyes twinkling.  This will be fantastic.  Is there anything I can do for you while I’m off?”

I tried to look guileless.  “Oh.  Um.  Well, if you have a chance, would you pop in to see Morpheus?

“Oh sure!  I never get to spend any time with him.  That’d be great.  Do you have a message for him?””


Another snippet of Grace Awakening Myth March 31, 2012

A little snippet from Grace Awakening Myth for your pleasure.  Ben is narrating.  ‘She’ is…well…  You’ll figure it out.

She shook her head. “It’s not our policy to interfere in such a way. The threads have been spun and the destiny is spun into them.”
“New people bring new thread though, don’t they?”
“Of course. Oh. Your thread, do you mean?”
I nodded. “Doesn’t it make me an important thread in her life?”
“Your thread is woven quite tightly into her tapestry so far,  true.  A thread can be continuous within a life. It doesn’t have to bring anything positive, though.”
“I’m positive.” I stared at her doubtful expression. “I’m positive I’m positive!”
She rolled her eye.
“You have no way of knowing that. You don’t know who she would have been without you.”
I stared at her. Better without me? How could Grace be better without me? What did she know about who Grace would have been?
“Your thoughts are on your face,” she said matter-of-factly.
I shrugged. My stomach was moiling. Would she have been better if I hadn’t been following her through time. I swallowed. “No.”
She gazed at me, sympathy warming the eye to tenderness. “Your wishing doesn’t make it so.”
“Can you show me?”
She wrinkled her brow. “Do you want me to pull your thread, so you’re removed from her picture?”
“If you pull it, can it go back?”
She shook her head, “No. Once a thread is out, it can’t be reintegrated the same way again.”
“Could it be better than before?”
She smirked. “Ah. Your optimism amazes me.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
She shrugged. “We’re artists. We use our skills and tools to create, but we only have the raw materials we’ve been given. The tapestries always reflect the life stories they tell. Some are ugly simply because the life is ugly. Sometimes the tapestry is strangely compelling for all its ugliness.”
I ponder that for a moment. “Wait.” Do you mean me?”
She guffawed. “Oh by Zeus no. Have you seen your thread? No, not you at all. I mean the lives of people like that snarly creep Ivan the Terrible or that miserable, greasy little Hitler.”
I blinked. I’d lost the rest of her words, frozen by her first statement. I whispered, “Can I see my thread?” In several millennia the audacity of requesting such a thing had never occurred to me. Both gods and men generally avoided interaction with the Moirae, their power was great and terrifying. But I was here, now. Clotho was in a pleasant enough mood. I might never have another opportunity like this. I whispered, “Can I see my thread?”
She glanced around, and then, assured of our privacy, she grinned mischievously and held out her empty hand. She rolled her thumb back and forth across her fingers in rapid circles. A line of sparkles shimmered like a trail between thumb and fingers. She rolled her thumb in quickening circles and the sparkles aligned themselves into a glittering opalescent glow. I stared, awestruck. I reached out for the glowing thread. She grinned at me as she dropped the strand into my palm. “This is just a sample, of course. If we cut thread from the actual tapestry…”
“Yeah. I know.” Mortality was held in the scissors her sister Atropos wielded.
I held an end of the thread and raised it to the light. In a milky whiteness blue, orange, green and pink flamed like an aura of hope. “This looks like a positive kind of thread.”
“It’s beautiful, obviously. One of the most beautiful we spin, actually, but beauty isn’t always good. You know Aglaea. And Aphrodite herself, for that matter.”
This was bold talk, but perhaps the old woman was beyond concern for love, and therefore beyond Aphrodite’s power of retribution.
“Look, sometimes something this sparkly is a distraction. It detracts or endangers. What if her life requires camouflage? This kind of brightness is going to bring the guns on her.”
“Unless she’s trying to camouflage at the Academy Awards.”
She laughed. “Well, that’s true I suppose.
“Beauty, Radiance, and Joy.” The natures of the Three Graces.
“They’re glorious threads, aren’t they?”
She shrugged and glanced away.
“You lying witch,” I muttered.
She raised an eyebrow. “That’s not the kind of thing you say to someone you’re trying to convince to give you a favour.”
“I am a positive element in her life.”
“You’re welcome to think so.”
“I am a continuity of love and acceptance, giving her strength,” I said firmly.
She scoffed. “You’re a continous source of pressure and obsession.”
“In a good way.”
She tried to look serious, but she had to stifle a snort of amusement.
“So will you help?”
“Oh, quit looking at me with those mushy, puppy dog eyes.”
“What if I write you a song?”
Her eye lashes fluttered. Perhaps she wasn’t completely out of Aphrodite’s influence after all.”
“Just for me?”
“Well. To keep you in harmony, I suppose I’d better compose a verse for each of your sisters as well.”
She sighed, “I suppose you must,” and gave me the most coquettish look I’d ever seen from a single eyeball. “But my verse will be the best one, aye?”
“Indeed. You will help?”
“All right. Come over by the door, and we’ll discuss the details.” She gripped my hand and pulled me along behind her. She was surprisingly strong, and I was reminded that despite her wizzened appearance, she was not to be trifled with. Her verse would have to be the best.


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