Mericolt's Secret

“Where are we?” Mericolt asked Pentil. “Is this Earth?” Thick vegetation surrounded them and everything smelled so very green. Could the Pearls of Wisdom be in such a remote place? He fingered his space-cutting knife, a tool his mother gave him before she disappeared. She told him the knife would be the greatest secret he’d ever have – to be used only in an emergency. Then she demonstrated how to cut a doorway. Not an ordinary doorway, but a doorway that connected to a tunnel in space – a tunnel with an opening to another constellation or another world. Or to where the Pearls of Wisdom were hiding. Would he need to use his knife? Wasn’t this an emergency?

“Where are we?” Mericolt asked Pentil. “Is this Earth?” Thick vegetation surrounded them and everything smelled so very green. Could the Pearls of Wisdom be in such a remote place? He fingered his space-cutting knife, a tool his mother gave him before she disappeared. She told him the knife would be the greatest secret he’d ever have – to be used only in an emergency. Then she demonstrated how to cut a doorway. Not an ordinary doorway, but a doorway that connected to a tunnel in space – a tunnel with an opening to another constellation or another world. Or to where the Pearls of Wisdom were hiding. Would he need to use his knife? Wasn’t this an emergency?

For me creativity is best when shared. One of my favorite examples is the first time I had the courage to read one of my short stories. Karleen Koen (Though a Glass Darkly and other historical novels) and Janean Thompson (an artist) started Women in Literary and Visual Arts – WILVA. They were tired of the loneliness of working in their studios. I joined the group shortly after it started for similar reasons. At one of our annual exhibit of members art and writing, I finally had the courage to read one of my written works. The group knew my art, but I was a closet writer. My knees shook as I read my short story. When I finished Karleen jumped out of her seat, took my hand and told me how wonderful the piece was. I call that incident, the five minutes that changed my life. Still glowing from my success, I petitioned my fellow artists at Archway Gallery to let me begin a reading series for creative writers. The Archway Reading Series began, with the help of my friend, Donna Perkins. I always made sure I had new material to read each month. In 1999 I selected three of the works I’d read at the Archway Readings, entered them in the Texas PEN Contest and won. Currently I’m part of the 35-year old Steamboat Springs Writing Group, an organization formed by Harriet Freiberger, a fellow local writer. The members read their new work and a short critique follows. Many of the members are published. Although I’ve been writing seriously for 20 plus years, I’ve chosen not to publish. Being a visual artist, I know that once your work is on display, the public expects a certain type of work. This limits the artist’s creativity. I didn’t want that to happen to my writing. Although I’ve written and completed novels, a series of young adult fantasies and short stories, I’ve kept them in the bowels of my computer, where I hope they’ll mold and ripen into something fabulous. So now, I’m opening this moldy private area and sharing the contents with the public.