Echoes from the Wander

27 October 2025

Oct 27, 2025

Am I back?

Garsh, I sure hope so. I intended to treat myself to some ‘soul’ work with World Beyond the Song, but apparently, my aging body decided to throw up some stubborn walls. Still waiting for the good word.

I wait better when I’m busy, and my subconscious was too worried about the “good word“ to allow me to concentrate on WBTS, so I dabbled in the familiar.

Last week …

I was able to put out a new Wednesday Whimsy about the Muse’s temporary unraveling (more explanation to come from Little Miss Muse in the weeks ahead).

I also had a wonderful time putting together Threlraan: The Craft & the Chaos - Essay 8 Crafting the Whale’s Song. What a wonderful reminder of my love affair with creating the unimagined but possible. I have to admit I documented my process for me more than you, a needed exercise in self-psychoanalysis. 😇

And Crone’s Cairn returned as I published Coyote—a maiden-phase meditation on the journey to becoming a crone.

Finally, I had a little fun learning about Luddites … you may have seen a related Note (and my threat to write a Luddite-related phaiku).

This week …

Look for that phaiku Monday or Tuesday. On Wednesday, the Muse will re-visit Austin, Texas, and deal with her narrative congestion—or force us to deal with it.

The final essay in Crafting the Whale’s Tongue will land in your inboxes on Thursday, and on Friday, I’ll post another poem from the Crone’s Cairn—something related to the ‘mother’ stage of the journey.

My situation has deprived me of thinking beyond Crafting the Whale’s Tongue. I would love your suggestions for a JL-type topic.

More writerly crafting?
A return to the AuthorKind Archetypes (especially since we have so many more subscribers since those archetypes debuted)?

What say you, brave wanderers and ponderers?

Heck, maybe you have a question about something you’ve read on Wander Words and would just like a deeper exploration … I’m game.

Let me know … email or comment.

I’ll be thinking about the possibilities. I hope you will too. The path may twist, but it hasn’t ended. I may stumble, stall, or drift—but the road still calls, and I’m still walking.