Y is for Yossele

         (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, my brand-sparkly-new collection of short stories, poems, and art inspired by fairy tales, myths, and folklore.  All through the month I’m sharing excerpts of art, stories, and poetry, as well as some reflections on the power of the traditional stories that inspired me.)

        Yossele is the nickname, according to some accounts, of the Prague golem.  If you want to learn all about him, you simply need to go read my whole post about him: The Prague Golem.  Okay, now to consider what this legend contributed to my new collection.  For this one the artwork is the primary piece.  (If you’re interested in the process you can see the sketch and half-carved block in that previous blog post.)  This shows the golem taking the pleasant night-time air and quietly reading, while waiting to be called upon again.

        There are striking similarities between the lore of golems and shabtis (which you can find at S) and I might throw out a wild speculation that the Jewish folklore was influenced by the Egyptian mythology, although the timing may be wrong and I haven’t looked into whether actual scholars have any opinions on the matter.  In any case, though, they are both humanoid figures constructed out of clay (always, in the case of golems and usually but not always in the case of shabtis), for the purpose of serving humans.  But the interesting piece they share that I want to focus on today is that they’re both activated by the magic of written words, which constrain them to exact and literal obedience.

        The magical power of writing is a belief that many cultures have shared, particularly before eras of widespread literacy when people began to take the power for granted.  It’s a theme appropriate for Words of the Month, and one I’ve come back to myself on several occasions.  It was  particularly important in Sleeping Legends Lie, the second book in my high fantasy Otherworld series, in which our protagonists attempt to escape from enslavement by using writing to convince their captors that they’re sorcerers.  And then there’s the golem in Kate and Sam and the Cheesemonster, the third book in my series for elementary children.  In that story the exact wording of the golem’s instructions is central to the plot.  The idea that words can literally bring things to life is one that writers love, but these stories also remind us that words can wield incredible control over people.  My shabti pushes back against the power of the written spells that control him, while my golem has, perhaps, realized that by reading he can claim the power of words for himself.

        By the way, when I say that words constrain these beings to literal obedience and literally bring them to life, I mean that… literally.  The etymology of the word literal is from Latin “of letters or writing.”  It entered English in the late 14th century to distinguish an interpretation of a text (usually Scriptures) according to the words as written, as opposed to metaphorical or allegorical interpretations.  The word literal-minded, which is perfect for a golem, appeared in the late 18th century.

        For a little more about golems, including some books that feature them, (and more for Words of the Month) check out my post on Artificial Life.

        Y is also for Baba Yaga, another story that’s explored via artwork in Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns.  You can see more about that piece here at Baba Yaga Village.

        Do you enjoy being transported by words?  Here’s one last reminder that I and 5 other authors will be attempting to enchant you with excerpts from our work on May 1.  Find out the details, plus links to pre-register for this free on-line event here.  I’ll be reading a little something (teaser: actually two little somethings!) from Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns.

        The moral of the golem is that the words we hold in our heads can determine whether we turn toward truth (emét) or death (mét).

        Also, be careful what you say because words really do have power.

        Would you want to have a servant that, on the one hand, supposedly follows your every command, but on the other hand is liable to go rogue through taking its instructions too literally to their unintended extremes?  Oh wait, you already do: it’s called a computer.

        

[Picture: Staronová (Yossele), rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2023 (Image from NydamPrints.com).]

X is for (Mermaid) X-ing

         (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, my brand-sparkly-new collection of short stories, poems, and art inspired by fairy tales, myths, and folklore.  All through the month I’m sharing excerpts of art, stories, and poetry, as well as some reflections on the power of the traditional stories that inspired me.  Big thanks to the A to Z organizers for putting this all together, and don’t forget to check out what my fellow A to Z Bloggers are up to, here at the Master List.)

        This is another story based on general folklore rather than a specific tale.  In this case, we’re talking about mermaids.  I’ve shared an article clipped from some antique newspaper, and here’s an excerpt…

Plucky Mermaid Makes History on Third Attempt at Peninsula Crossing

HUSUM, Jun. 21, 1892 – The plucky young waitress from Skagerrak has successfully become the first mer to achieve a solo crossing of the Cimbric Peninsula.  At twelve minutes past one-o’clock this past Saturday, 23 year old Coral Kelpsina dove into the Husumer Au after 6 grueling hours and 48 minutes of endurance in her custom-built Bath chair.  Coral has won the hearts of landpeople and merpeople alike with her determination and spirit, and hundreds of well-wishers were gathered both above and below the water’s edge on Saturday to cheer her historic achievement. 

        This little piece was inspired by the idea that mermaids are as curious about dry land as humans are about the ocean.  Hans Christian Andersen’s “Little Mermaid” (followed by Disney’s retelling) took that idea to the extreme in one direction, but what if a mermaid followed her fascination with the land in another way?  Instead of giving up her agency and sacrificing her own identity for “love,” what if she invented a way to expand her abilities and challenge herself to accomplish something new?  I modelled the tone and style of my article on newspaper accounts of late 19th and early 20th century attempts to swim the English Channel.

        In order to illustrate this story I made a “faux” block print rather than carving and printing an actual block.  I figured there was no point in making a real print when there would be no market for pictures of a mermaid in a bath chair.  (But I think it came out rather charming, so maybe I should have carved this after all!)

        Looking for more mermaid fun?  Here are some prior posts featuring mermaid art and poems: Save the Merfolk

     Who is Catching Whom?

     Three Merpoems

        The moral of mermaids is that it’s never easy trying to bridge different worlds.  But the moral of this mermaid is that with hard work and persistence (and a team to support and encourage you) it is possible to achieve your dreams.

        Have you ever pushed yourself to perform a particularly challenging feat?  And who supported you in that endeavor?  I’m very grateful to have the support of my family as I chase my art and writing dreams.

[Picture: Plucky Mermaid, faux block print by AEGNydam, 2026 (Image from Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns).]

W is for Wicked Witches

         (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, my brand-sparkly-new collection of short stories, poems, and art inspired by fairy tales, myths, and folklore.  All through the month I’m sharing excerpts of art, stories, and poetry, as well as some reflections on the power of the traditional stories that inspired me.)

        I wasn’t quite sure whether or not to include today’s short story in Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns.  The reason is that it isn’t based on any specific fairy tale, but instead is inspired by various elements of modern folklore about wicked witches in general.  You can check out a prior blog post with a variety of block prints depicting Wicked Witches from 1720-1985, but my story is set in a version of wicked-witch-ness that doesn’t reflect older beliefs about witches and witchcraft.  Instead it will be very familiar to anyone who’s consumed movies, TV shows, etc. from the past 50 to 80 years or so.  I’ll give you a longer excerpt today, to set the scene…

        Two witches stood in the doorway below the sparkly purple banner that read “Welcome to the Grand Coven Annual Revels.”

        “Well, if it isn’t Cherry,” said the green-haired one with the large emerald amulet.

        “Oh my Dark Lord,” cackled the other, who was dripping with skull-shaped talismans, “She’s back.”

        Cherry’s smile was poisonously sweet.  “Laverne.  Agrippina.  It’s been too long.”  She paused a moment in the doorway to look around.  Too long to wait for vengeance, she thought.  As she headed into the rental hall her loose silk jacket swirled behind her, brushing against the two witches.  She could hear them whispering cattily, black cats at their feet, but her smile didn’t fade.  She felt the swing of the soft fabric around her shoulders.  Its bright flowered pattern gave her confidence.

        She found Millicent by the punch bowl.  Of course.  Cherry reached in to get herself a cup, not at all surprised when Millicent joggled her elbow on purpose and then said, “Oops” as if it were an accident.

        “Millicent, how have you been?”

        “Not bad,” the tall witch replied, making sure her insignia of power showed clearly.  “I’m High Mistress of my coven.  What about you?”

        “I’ve been studying abroad,” Cherry answered.

        “Did you ever even get a familiar?” Millicent asked, casually stroking the oversized ferret draped over her shoulder.  Millicent was the one who had murdered Cherry’s first familiar in some horrific ritual all those years ago.

        “I’ve got a bakehoari now.”

        Millicent raised pencil-thin eyebrows.  “A what?  What is that, some kind of… beetle, or something?  Couldn’t even get a rat, eh?  Some things never change.”  She grinned, her teeth as sharp as the weasel’s.  “Excuse me, I’ve got important people to see.”  Cherry’s jacket clung to Millicent’s black dress as she shoved past and headed toward a knot of witches in the center of the room.

        Cherry smoothed the fabric back down, thinking, Some things never change indeed.  All those spells to keep themselves eternally young, and all it does is keep them eternally immature.

        In addition to western witch folklore, this story also includes just a touch of Japanese folklore.  The bakehoari is an invention of my own inspired by Japanese legends of tsukumogami.  I don’t want to give away too much about my story, but I do invite you to read my prior post about these strange entities here.

        So, as I said, I dithered over whether this story really counted for my theme of “inspired by traditional fairy tales,” but in the end I figured “The more the merrier” and included it (along with a couple of other pieces in this “general folklore vibes” category, including my trickster tale at T).

        There are a few other wicked witches in the book, as well.  There’s the owl-witch mentioned at O,  and there are also the wicked witches from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, whom I mention in a light-hearted limerick about Dorothy Gale.  That’s the poem illustrated by the rubber block print at the top of today’s post.  I would have painted the magic shoes silver to honor L. Frank Baum’s book, but the MGM movie is right that ruby pops better against black and white.  As for Baum, he too was reimagining traditional fairy tales, spinning a modern American fairy tale from well-known traditional elements.  We’re all part of that long human chain of storytelling!

        The moral of wicked witches is that wickedness will be conquered in the end.

        Also, it’s important to examine your own means as well as your motives, lest you turn wicked yourself before you notice what you’ve become.

        The most famous re-imagining of The Wizard of Oz and its witches is, of course, the book cum musical cum movie dualogy “Wicked.”  Have you read or seen it?  Do you have opinions?

[Pictures: Someone Dropped a House, rubber block print with watercolor by AEGNydam, 2025 (Image from NydamPrints.com);

Cherry Blossoms, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2024 (Image from NydamPrints.com).]

V is for Vegetables

        (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, my brand-sparkly-new collection of short stories, poems, and art inspired by, reimagining, and riffing on fairy tales, myths, and folklore.  All through the month I’m sharing excerpts of art, stories, and poetry, as well as some reflections on the power of the traditional stories that inspired me.  And don’t forget to check out my fellow bloggers at the A to Z Master List.)

        One of the most widely known and best loved fairy tales in the world is “Cinderella.”  I’d be surprised if you don’t know it, but if you want to read the iconic version written by Charles Perrault in the seventeenth century, you can find it here.  Being so well known, “Cinderella” is also one of the most retold, adapted, reimagined, and parodied tales in the world, not to mention that many elements of the tale have become downright proverbial.  In Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, however, this is one of the tales that I represented only by a piece of art unaccompanied by a story or poem.  The part of the story that struck my fancy was how Cinderella’s fairy godmother made her a coach from a pumpkin.  I started to imagine fairy godmothers all over the kingdom helping out their own favorite goddaughters by creating all manner of coaches out of all kinds of vegetables…

        The level of detail in this rubber block print was quite a challenge for me and I struggled a bit to get everything legible.  True confession: I’ve done a little bit of digital clean-up on this version, which is how it appears in the book.  Also, I added the color digitally to draw more attention to the vegetables.  But despite having a little more trouble than I’d like with the carving, I was very pleased with the palace and other scenery, and I did enjoy coming up with a number of different veggie carriages.

        The moral of Cinderella is that if you plan to wear glass slippers you are definitely going to need some kind of coach, because even a pumpkin will be better than having to walk in those things.

        But also, I suspect that the fairy godmother may have grown up in the Enormous Turnip village.

        What’s your favorite vegetable?  And would it make a good vehicle?

        And here’s a reminder that if you want to hear me read an excerpt from Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, you are cordially invited to join me live, on-line at Strong Women-Strange Worlds on May 1, just after the A to Z Challenge is wrapping up.  It’s free, it’s fun, it’s relaxing, and it’s an excellent mental health break!  (Remember how much you used to love Story Time?)  But you do need to pre-register to get the Zoom

link, so register right now and be sure not to miss me and 5 other authors of speculative fiction sharing bite-sized snippets of our diverse work.

[Picture: The Fairy Godmothers Have Been Busy, rubber block print (with digital color) by AEGNydam, 2026 (Image from Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns).]

U is for Unicorn Maiden

         (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, my brand-sparkly-new collection of short stories, poems, and art inspired by, reimagining, and riffing on fairy tales, myths, and folklore.  All through the month I’m sharing excerpts of art, stories, and poetry, as well as some reflections on the power of the traditional stories that inspired me.  Plus, be sure to check out all my fellow A to Z bloggers at the Master List of participants.)

        Mythology about unicorns has shifted quite a bit over the centuries.  The ancient Greeks and Romans believed that unicorns lived in India, had black or tri-colored horns, and included elements of not only horse anatomy, but also stag, wild ass, and even feet like an elephant.  To evade hunters a unicorn could throw itself off a cliff and land on its horn to absorb the shock, thus escaping unhurt.  By the middle ages Europeans thought of the unicorn as looking more like a horse or goat, and most often white.  It was now a woodland creature, fiercest of all beasts to be hunted, and it could be caught only with the taming influence of a virgin.  By the late twentieth century the unicorn had become entirely equine, most often white but sometimes with fancier decor such as rainbow mane and tale, gold or silver horn, and general sparkliness.  It was now mystical and sweet instead of fierce, had lost all its medieval and renaissance allegorical symbolism, and by the 21st century had gained instead a special symbolism within queer culture, and more broadly as a symbol of anything incredibly rare and special (and possibly purely fanciful).  You can read a prior blog post about Unicorns here.

        My short story “The Unicorn Maiden’s Tale,” however, is set very firmly within the medieval world of unicorn lore.

        They picked me when I was fifteen, because I looked the part as they imagined it: long blonde hair, pale pink skin, a maidenly blush...  I blush so much that the boys in my town always teased me about it, and sometimes I blush at the mere thought of how much I blush.  But such modesty was perfect for the Duke’s purposes.  His housekeeper dressed me in a long white gown, and his huntsmen sat me down in a mossy glade in the depths of the forest, stuck a garland of flowers on my head, and told me to wait.

        “What shall I do?” I asked.

        “I don’t know,” the captain of the hunt replied.  “How about singing.  Sweetly.”

        In this story the unicorn is the fiercest, most dangerous creature, drawn to the innocence of a virgin.  In the narrator’s culture the unicorn has powerful religious symbolism, serving as an allegory of Christ’s Incarnation through being born to a virgin, only to be killed by humans.  But it simultaneously represents secular ideas of sexual ardor, as well as of base animal passions being tamed by virtue – not to mention the fact that its horn is worth an enormous amount of money.  The medieval and renaissance beliefs about unicorns were complicated, many-layered, and fraught, and so it is for my unicorn maiden, forced to be the bait in the hunt for this rare and valuable – and dangerous – creature.  Content warning: this story includes more violence than is usual for me.  That’s frankly a pretty low bar because my writing it generally quite gentle, but it’s worth noting for my regular readers that when you deal with fairy tale and myth you do inevitably come up against some pretty dark themes.

        Unlike most of my block prints, for this one I haven’t put any twist on the traditional iconography.  For purposes of keeping my story firmly rooted in the medieval mythology about unicorns, this little piece is based closely on a handful of medieval illuminations and renaissance wood block prints from bestiaries.

        The traditional moral of the Unicorn Maiden would be all that allegorical stuff I’ve already described.  But my moral is that sometimes “innocence” may not look the way you expect.

        Let us know: are you a unicorn fan, and do you own any unicorn paraphernalia?  T-shirts, figurines, plush animals, reproduction tapestries, mugs, or any other unicorn-themed items?

[Picture: Taming the Unicorn, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2025 (Image from NydamPrints.com).]

T is for Trickster

         (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, my brand-sparkly-new collection of short stories, poems, and art inspired by fairy tales, myths, and folklore.  All through the month I’m sharing excerpts, as well as some reflections on the power of the traditional stories that inspired me.)

        People all around the world and throughout history love tricksters.  Or at least, they love telling stories about tricksters – but they don’t generally love being on the receiving end of the tricks.  Tricksters serve an important role in shaking up the status quo, introducing change, unsettling the powerful, giving voice to the forbidden, and upending expectations… but they are not always admirable or likable.  They can be heroes or villains, and are often both at once.  My stories tend to have a strong moral sense and I like my heroes to be heroic (read a prior blog post about that here), but you really can’t write a trickster tale without at least a bit of moral ambiguity.  Even when they help others, tricksters always make sure there’s something in it for themselves, and even when they work toward noble ends, their means tend to be a little sketchy.  Nevertheless, I wanted to write a trickster tale with a trickster who was fun and not too reprehensible: a trickster who doesn’t have any grand ambitions of world domination or epic vengeance, but who just wants to enjoy a pleasant life…

        Tin the Trickster was not very popular with the people, who tended not to appreciate being tricked.  But Tin was tired of always being mistrusted while everyone adored The Strong One, so today they were wearing the appearance of a huge muscle-bound man, with golden armor covered in buttons and dials that certainly looked very impressive.

        “Let me put it to you this way,” they said to the gathered crowd, “Two men go to lift up a big rock.  One grunts and puffs and strains, and raises it up over his head with a cry of triumph.  The other simply picks it up, without any noise or fuss.  Which one is stronger?”

        The people glanced at each other warily, always prepared for some sort of trick, but the answer seemed straightforward enough.  “The one who doesn't need to make a lot of noise?”

        “Exactly!” Tin replied triumphantly, “And that's how you know my magic armor is so powerful.  No noise at all.”  When they were sure they had everyone's attention, they suddenly spun to the side, eyes narrowly focused on something in the distance, struck a pose on one knee, and punched out dramatically with an arm.  Sure enough, there was no noise.  The people nodded uncertainly, not sure whether to be impressed or suspicious.

        Tin stood and turned back with a broad, benevolent smile.  “So let's have no more of this nonsense about how wonderful The Strong One is, eh?  I think we can all see that I am just as mighty.  Probably even more so.”

        This was all well and good – some were convinced and some were not – until a breathless rider arrived, frantic with bad news: The Giant from Over There was on the rampage.  And now it became clear how deeply Tin had impressed the people with their magic armor.  After a hurried consultation, it was The Strong One's door on which the Elders knocked, anxious to recruit him in the people's defense.

        Of course it will be Tin the Trickster who saves the day, but how will they do it?  Read Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns to find out!  As for the illustration, this is a brown-headed cowbird, one of nature’s tricksters, who serves as a messenger for Tin in my story.  Cowbirds lay their eggs in other birds’ nests, leaving the unwitting host to hatch and raise the cowbird chicks, often to the detriment of their own brood.  You can consider cowbirds

“mean” or “lazy,” or you can appreciate that they’re just living their appointed niche in the natural world.  Either way, they seemed like appropriate sidekicks for a trickster figure.

        T is also for Tree of Life, and you can read a post about that (including my own artwork) from the 2024 A to Z Challenge: Magical Botany L.  And T is for Tarasque, a creature you can meet in my 2016 A to Z: Mythical T.  There are pieces in Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns relating to both the Tree of Life and the Tarasque.

        The moral of Tricksters is, I suppose, trust no one!  But also, remember the Boy Who Cried Wolf and consider that you won’t enjoy it when you’ve become the one whom no one trusts.

        From Anansi to Loki, Till Eulenspiegel to Coyote, Jacob to Bugs Bunny, and Sang Kancil to the team of the television series “Leverage,” we just love seeing cleverness and chutzpah in action, just as long as we’re not the victims.  Do you have a favorite trickster?  And how do you feel about practical jokes in real life?

[Picture: Trickster’s Familiar, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2026 (Image from NydamPrints.com);

Tarasque, rubber block print with colored pencil by AEGNydam, 2026 (Image from NydamPrints.com).]

S is for Shabti

        (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, my brand-sparkly-new collection of short stories, poems, and art inspired by fairy tales, myths, and folklore.  All through the month I’m sharing excerpts of art, stories, and poetry, as well as some reflections on the power of the traditional stories that inspired me.)

        For S we’re going into the “Other” category for a poem inspired by the mythology of ancient Egyptian funerary practices.  So, you’re going to live forever in an afterlife that’s really pretty much exactly like this life.  In other words, all the work still needs to be done – and who wants to spend an eternal afterlife doing the chores?  That’s where the shabti comes in.

        A shabti (sometimes also called ushabti or shawabti) is a model figurine of a person, inscribed with magical spells so that when called upon in the afterlife, it will step up and do all the required work, leaving its master to “live” an afterlife of leisure.  The people of the highest wealth and status might include dozens or even hundreds of shabtis in their tombs to make sure they were properly served.  For me the idea of shabtis, like all those stories about beings created for the sole purpose of serving their masters, raises the question of how they feel about this situation.

     For a long time I waited, silent in the sand.

     Feet planted, arms crossed, silent in my row.

     For a long time I waited to respond to the command.

     All was stillness, all was darkness, unvarying and slow.

 

     For a long time I waited, patient for the call

     To plow, to clear obstructions, to carry stones or sand.

     For a long time I waited, my obedience a scrawl

     Of symbols down my legs: my statement and my stand.

 

     “I am here; I answer,” my painted spell declares,

     To the master in whose likeness I am made.

     All around me in the darkness are my master’s painted prayers…

     But his heart has not returned from being weighed.

        Once again I have given you here only half the poem, in an unabashedly unsubtle attempt to entice you to want to read more, thus having to purchase a copy of Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns for yourself.  And in case you need further enticement, But wait!

There’s more!  S is also for Scheherazade, about whom you can read the poem which I posted here.  (Plus, you can read about some other authors’ Scheherazade retellings at this post.)  And S is also for Siren.  I’ve got a short story and a poem about sirens in my book, but in this prior post on The Lure of Sirens you can read all about the varied ways sirens have been depicted in art from ancient Greece up to my own rubber block print (which is in the book - in three variations, no less!)

        The moral of shabtis is that although humans never stop trying to figure out ways to make someone else do the work for them, enslaving another sentient being is never okay.

        However, if you persist in making shabtis despite Moral #1, it’s worth it to pay a little extra for a scribe with clear handwriting, lest you end up with garbled spells and malfunctioning shabtis for all eternity.

  The ancient Egyptians tended to pack for the afterlife like going to a deserted island, so I’ll go with that classic question: what three things would you take?

[Picture: Shabti, rubber block reduction print by AEGNydam, 2025 (Image from NydamPrints.com),

Siren Song, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2025 (Image from NydamPrints.com).]