Despite scribal appearances, I swear I do more than complain. In fact, I work my ass off, which is most likely strong commentary on the aforementioned.
I met with my editor the other day who gave me insight on the scope of things in the publishing industry right now. I asked for it–it wasn’t unsolicited. I told her how I was fried on getting “this is wonderfully written and intriguing, but not right for our catalogue,” rejections for the last 16 months. I told her that if they said it flat-out sucked I could put that criticism in some useful context, but this mixed media is frying my brain, not to mention stamina and spirit.
Do you know what she said? No words of wisdom, no How-to, no tips-n-tricks. She told me that a highly reputable agent she works with closely just signed a deal on a novel featuring a female werewolf who is a hoarder. Far be it from me to disparage, but that’s all I’m going to say on that. It, if nothing else, it put things into context.
So what am I going to do? Well, for those of you up on your Norse cosmology, specifically on Tyr and Tuisto, and even more pointedly, for those active Rune students, I’ve decided to go apeshit Tiwaz. Tiwaz is the first Rune of the third Aett, assumed to be the symbolf of two Norse gods. The first is Tyr, who is known for being not much of a god. His greatest claim to fame was offering his hand under the demands of the wolf, Fenrir (Yes, that one. JK did her homework, devout little Episcopalian that she is.), who was to remain shackled to forestall the beginings of the Ragnarok end of days. Deceitful Fenrir bit off Ty’rs hand, and Tyr became a joke amongst the other gods (makes me think of Rudolph and reindeer games). Tuisto is an even lesser known Norse god, who is the father of an entirely different branch of humans. He created his own First Tribe. Why in the world would I invoke such obscure and renegade forces? Because Tyr’s plan wasn’t to save his hand. It wasn’t to look good amongst his peers. His plan was to prevent Ragnarok from beginning as long as possible, and he did. Tuisto wasn’t vengeful. He didn’t wipe out an existing creation with floods or fire. He just went off and coincided to create another. These are the gods associated with the Rune Tiwaz. Thus, the Rune Tiwaz is a battle cry. It’s the essence of the eleventh hour, when in the heat of conflict you realize things may not go at all the way you planned. Strategy is thrown out the window and decisions are made based on precisely what is in front of you at the moment. You make that decision and you move forward with everything in you supporting it. In the pocket of that battle imagery is the mild notion of glory–not the “Eat my wake!” kind of glory, or the “Don'[t you wish you were me?” kind. This glory is the deep satisfaction of knowing that you’ve done what was right for you, and if this battle kills you, you move onward knowing you gave it your best and you’re at peace with that fact and its outcome.
Sometime over this holiday season I will revel with the gods in hedonistic glory, and I will call in Tyr and Tuisto. I will ink Tiwaz on my body, imagine it into my every chakral existence, and awaken it in my spirit. And in this late stage of determining my fate, I will gain my second wind. I will prevail over my own creation of myself. Not only is hope found, but also cherished inspiration.