Do you have it in you to write a book (part 3)
Find out how a worm made me realize that looking for more is not (always) the answer when you get stuck in doing what you were meant to be doing.
This is the third and last of a sequence of three that I wrote to celebrate my one year writing experience on Substack. I hope it inspires you to write as well!
In part two of ‘Do you have in you to write a book?´ I ended with the big question if non-work related writing helped me find back my personal writing style. Well, I had a good reflection on it. To answer the question shortly:
Yes I did! Looking back at the sequence of this month’s (Read here: part one) I feel I reached a full circle.
Does it mean I will stop writing? No! The routine of writing is so part of my daily life! Maybe the one thing that did change over time, is that I became a bit more flexible in when, where and how much I write.
This week an unexpected encounter reminded me again of an import aspect that influences your writing style. She had worked for fourteen years in a Finnish company using English as a work language. Last fall she decided to entered into a course which was held in her mother tongue, namely Finnish.
‘The first essay I struggled so much to write in Finnish again.’ she explained to me.
We talked about how the English language affected her writing style. Then she looked at me and her face suddenly lit up.
‘Now that I think and write again in Finnish it is as if my mind feels free again. New thoughts and ideas just flow out of my mind.’
Her experience reminded me of my own language struggles I had growing up in multilingual environment.
‘How much of my identity, thus personal writing style gets lost through writing this Substack in English?!’ I wondered again.
Maybe some of it does. But if I get into the flow of writing I still can do it at its best in Dutch. Later there is always the possibility to translate it. On the other hand, over the past year I also experienced that my mind slows down while writing in English. As I need to consider how to phrase things in an understandable way. And that slow speed certainly has contributed to finding back my writing style!
What’s with the worm?
One morning I went for a walk and ended up resting in the local park. I watched how the flowers were opening up in the morning sun. The vegetable fields were still black and empty, waiting to be sown. Out of the ground a little pink figure pop up. It was the head of a worm. It seemed to be looking around and then quickly disappeared under the ground again. The short story ´Looking for more´ was born.
A few weeks later I was lying on a comfortable couch in the library and finished the short story. Walking out of the library I ran into a friend. She was about to take out a children´s book she wanted to read to the kids the next day at work. To my amazement it had the title: Super Worm by Julia Donaldson! We had a good laugh about it. So here is my short story on a worm..
Looking for more
The worm slowly made its way through the narrow, dark tunnel until it thought it could squirm no further. The worm pushed aside a piece of soil with its head. Yesterday's frozen soil felt soft in this place today. Sign that winter came to an end and spring awakened. Bits of earth crumbled around his delicate body. It was time again to do what worms do: dig tunnels. A bend to the right, then straight ahead and left again. Everywhere the soil was soft and the worm was getting on well.
“Ouch!” the worm suddenly cried out. Dizzy from the impact he made on the frozen soil, he slowly writhed backwards. He had learned his lesson for the rest of the season.
“Don't whine, keep digging!” he heard his father’s voice in his mind.
And so he did. As a worm was supposed to do. All day long. Coming to a crossroad, the worm decided to take a chance to the surface. From a distance he heard human voices. Now he had to make sure, that he wouldn't be found. Carefully the worm raised its head just above the ground. Blinded by the sudden bright sunlight, he quickly pushed himself back into the earth. Too late! Wrapped in a bundle of soil, he felt himself being lifted into the air. Two human fingers grabbed him at the end of his body, pulled him out and placed him in the palm of a hand. Instinctively the worm writhed and lay motionless. Just as he was taught. It was important to cooperate. Loud human voices were now talking above his head. Every now and then the worm felt fingers gently squeezing his body. He didn't resist. He didn't have much choice either. Fragments of sentences such as 'thick worm' and 'fertile humus layer' sounded around him.
Slowly the worm started feeling hot and stuffy. Just when he thought his short life would be over, the hand palm suddenly disappeared from underneath his body and he floated in the air. It only took a fraction of a second, but for the worm it felt like eternity. He fell to the ground with a soft thud..
‘Come quickly, this way!’ the worm heard someone shouting from the distance. Dazed by what had just happened to him, the worm squirmed towards the voice. Just below the surface the worm felt the damp soil cool down his overheated body.
‘Was this your first time?’ the worm heard the voice again, but now closer. He opened his eyes and saw a worm twice his size lying next to him.
Um, yeah.’ he stuttered back.
‘You got rid of them quickly! My first time, a human hand put me in a box and I was taken away.’
‘Really?’ the worm replied.
‘Yes. They were small sized human hands that pulled me out of the soil. Next time be extra careful when small human hands pick you up. You recognize them because their voices sound high and giggly.’
‘How did you squirm out?’
‘I couldn't because there was a lid on the box. I was completely nauseous from all those movements and thought my end had come. Until I heard a heavy, deep-sounding human voice. The lid opened and before I knew it I was in a hand that lowered to the earth. I got a push and quickly wriggled back into the soil.
'Why do humans do that?'
'That is something our ancestors also wondered about. Actually, we still don't know exactly.'
‘One of the human voices said something about fertile soil.’
'Ha ha, did they really say that?!' Well, there are plenty of others who also eat everything and poop it out. We worms have a far more important job.”
‘Oh, what is that?’
‘Young worm, didn't you pay attention during digging lessons?’
If the worm would have had a proper face, by now it would surely have turned red from shame.
'We worms take care of the underground tunnel network. The other creatures use them to crawl from vegetable bed to vegetable bed via the tunnels. And when it rains, those tunnels collect the rainwater so that the earth remains moist.'
‘Oh, I thought we made those tunnels to get from one worm village to another.’
‘Ha! where were you going anyway?’
'I was in a deep winter sleep and when I woke up, my parents, brothers and sisters were gone. I was busy digging tunnels hoping to find them.”
'You don't have to look for them anymore. From now on, all worms you encounter are your family. We protect each other.'
“Is this the goal for the rest of my life?”
'Correct! You will dig tunnels until you drop dead! Or get eaten by a bird. You keep digging for yourself, for your own worm community. For your fellow creatures and for those humans above the earth.'
‘But what if there is more than just digging tunnels?’
The worm asked.
Curious how this story continues?
Keep following me on Substack to find out how the story continues!