Echoes from the Wander
08 December 2025
Well, I’ll be darned if this issue of Echoes didn’t slip my attention.
I’ve been caught up in the cosmos, but no apologies—we’re here now.
I’m excited about what I’ve been writing. Some of it you’ve seen, most of it yet to come. We won’t wait for Red-Nosed Rudolph to manage the delivery. These new writings have minds of their own and will arrive at their own whim.
For now, let’s take a look at where we’ve been.
Last Week
Another quiet week—in appearance only. Here’s what made it to the presses:
Dragons in the Sky: When Celestial Events Become Myth
The second essay in The Star Archive series—and one that tugged at me deeply. It seems it tugged at many of you as well, which I appreciate more than I can say. I’m still bedazzled by the idea of imagining what it must have been like to witness such awe without the language to describe it—left only with feeling.
Wednesday Whimsy
I gave the Muse the week off. She needed it.
Phaiku?
I slipped one quietly into Dragons in the Sky. If you missed it, here you go:
And if you’re missing the Crone poems—fear not. They will return in the New Year. For now, a new project has called that energy elsewhere. One that spoke clearly: Now is the time. No reveals just yet.
What’s Next
A new phaiku will arrive soon, foreshadowing the next essay in The Star Archive series. These particular ponderings have a way of grabbing me and refusing to let go—one reason this newsletter is arriving a bit late today. That … and perhaps a seasonal jingle or two.
Pictographs and the Poetry That Doesn’t Use Words will be out Thursday. This third essay in The Star Archive surprised me and insisted on becoming two essays rather than one. I hope that decision pays off—but regardless, I’m following my cosmic conscience.
And yes—as promised—the Muse will be back with us on Wednesday, ushering in the first of three North Pole–related chaos offerings. Surely you knew.
Finally, I’ve been brewing something in a dark, cool place. I hope it reaches its peak in the next week or two. When it does, rest assured—you’ll receive an invitation to sample.
Intrigued?
I am.
So it’s a ho ho—off we go … until next we return.
Stay warm. Stay gracious. And stay true to you. Even the Grinch would agree.
—Jennifer
JL Tooker
Jennifer, the way you say this issue “slipped past you” makes me picture your newsletter wandering home drunk on starlight. Your whole creative universe is chaos in the most delightful cosmic way — dragons, phaiku stowaways, the Muse on vacation, essays splitting like star cells. I adore it.
And whatever you’re brewing in that dark cool place? I’m already snooping in imaginary cupboards. You can’t tease like that and expect calm.
Ho ho—lead the cosmic mischief. I’ll chase the stardust trail.
There's nothing like the tug of creative energy. Frustrating as it can be sometimes (...but I already have like 4 other projects I'm working on!) it's truly a magic we can't deny. Here's to the journeys, old and new! ✨