Behind "Ley of the Minstrel: Spider Dance"

"Ley of the Minstrel" appeared in the second issue of The Cross and the Cosmos (aka TC2) ezine.  It was a fun, swashbuckling story that let me use my love of ships and sailing as I wrote.   

But a new challenge came not long after "Ley..." was published.  A sequel.

"Ley of the Minstrel: Spider Dance" wasn't the story I set out to write when I decided to follow Nerelos into the lands of the Spider Lords. I had a vague idea of a bunch of evil spiders similar to Tolkein's Shelob or Ungoliant. It was very, very vague.

The setting material for Dias Domhan (provided by TC2's editors) reads as follows: "...Within these lands live various magical creatures, the worst of which are the Spider Lords...large intellect spiders who have created web cities and hate humans..."

Spiders.  Hmm.  Things I know about spiders: they spin webs and they eat other bugs. They have lots of eyes and legs. They can move fast and some of the stubby ones jump. A spider frightened Little Miss Muffet. An itsy-bitsy one climbed up a waterspout. I played with daddy-long-legs when I was a kid; and I still capture the occasional wolf spider in the house to set it free in the garden so it can eat other pestiferous bugs that annoy me.

Not enough to fill a story. 

The trouble with research is that sometimes you find yourself fascinated by the subject totally aside from finding what you need to write a story.

My foray into arachnology left me amazed and humbled by the little creatures that inhabit our world. Did I think I had imagination? Hah — what a puny joke! One look at the anatomy of a spider, at the microscopic photographs of the tiniest hairs or the fangs on them boggled my mind. A table of spider silk's tensile strength compared with other materials (such as rope, nylon, or steel) blew my feeble creativity away.

Things I now know about spiders:

Their blood is somewhat clear and faintly blue-tinted because it contains copper rather than iron as ours does.

They can regenerate body parts, even vital organs under some circumstances, during subsequent moultings.

Some spiders can rearrange their retinas as they look at different things.

Some have more intelligence than others. The little jumping spiders can change strategy when they are hunting according to what the prey is doing; sometimes they watch us, seemingly with interest.

There are pirate spiders that prey on other spiders by mimicking web-touching rituals of courtship or prey.

Some spiders fast for incredibly long periods prior to moulting.

Clean cobwebs can be used for impromptu bandages for cuts.

Spiders hear by interpreting air movement touching the complex hairs on their legs. 

In some parts of the world, spiders are kept for the sport of spider fights. 

The list goes on.

I discovered respect for these tiny creatures that made it difficult for me to present them as nothing more than spawns of hell. Their complex nature and amazing structure revealed one small glimpse of God's artistry and creativity. Think of it — real creatures stranger and more astounding than any fictional alien. We usually only notice them when they startle us or when we clean their abandoned webs from corners. I found myself reluctant to vilify them. So, the spiders of my story are not the worst of the magical creatures; and Arctos represents a potential new chapter in the spirits of the Dias Domhan spiders in which they, too, might sing of Dé-Fär. 

Two final notes:

"Ley of the Minstrel" and "Ley of the Minstrel: Spider Dance" will be appearing in TC2's  upcoming anthology from Marcher Lord Press later this year.  Stay tuned for the announcement when the anthology is released.

And, in spite of all I learned, I'm not rushing out to purchase a pet tarantula any time soon. Probably not ever.