“Once long ago, there was a seal who loved the sea…”

Writing is a strange business sometimes. We think we’re writing for readers, and then it turns out we’re writing for ourselves. We think we’re writing for our present selves, and then it turns out we’re writing for the children-we-were or the adults-we-will be.

Or both. Today I came upon ”Seal Story,” a selkie short I wrote more than a decade ago. Selkie stories are by their nature about the pull between two worlds, and when I wrote this one, I was thinking about my fears around one day becoming a mother, about the tensions between the creative world I already inhabited and the world of parenting, which are often presented as two very different, irreconcilable things.

But when I reread the story today, I found myself thinking instead about losing my own mother, and my struggles with being her adult child—about reconciling her need to be so many things to so many people with figuring out my own place in her life.

I don’t know whether Mom and I ever got to the final version of this story. I do know there are things I need to think about here, though, and that this was a story I needed to reread today.

In case it’s a story you need—or even just want—right now as well, I’m sharing it below.


Seal Story

You know this story.

Once long ago, there was a seal who loved the sea. On bright days she swam through the warm water, while waves crested with foam and salt scented the air. Yet she also loved the land, so on dark nights she shed her skin, took on human form, and danced, not through waves, but on cool, wet sand.

One night a young man caught sight of her, and when he crouched behind the rocks to watch her dance, he also caught sight of her gray skin shining in the moonlight. The young man couldn’t believe his good fortune. He stole the skin, and he hid it like the treasure it was.

The seal woman had no choice. She could not turn back to a seal; she could not return to the ocean. Instead she made her way to the young man’s home, and if the road that led there cut her bare feet, this story does not tell of it. It tells only that the man and the seal woman were soon married, and that they lived together in his house near the sea. Whether she grew to love him or hated him all her days–the story does not tell that, either.

What it does tell is this: in time, the seal woman had children. Her love for them was as deep as the sea, the joy she found in them as true as the stones beneath it.

And yet.

The young man’s house faced the ocean, and through its windows the seal woman could see the changing tides. Walking its halls, she could hear the crashing waves. Restlessly she paced those halls, long after her children slept, until one night she found the skin the man had hidden. In the attic, in the cellar, beneath a stone–again the story is silent. It says only that the sea grew loud, so loud, as she held her skin once more.

She could not ignore that call. She kissed her children as they slept, and she crept quietly down to the sea. But her eldest daughter woke, and heard, and ran after her mother.

The girl wasn’t fast enough. As she reached the sand a flash of gray disappeared beneath the water, and then she saw only waves.

This girl was human-born; she could not follow her mother. She returned to her father’s home, and the stones did not cut her feet. But even as she walked, she knew she would never forget that while her mother loved her as deeply as the sea, the depths of the sea were nothing, beside her mother’s love for being a seal. She would never forget, and she would never forgive.

You do not want this story. You are a child; you are unkind. The seal woman’s happiness means less, to you, than the girl’s.

Very well.

Once long ago there lived a seal who loved the sea. When she sought to return to it, her daughter ran after her.

The girl was fast enough. She cried out, before the seal woman disappeared beneath the waves, “Do not leave me!”

The seal woman heard, and her daughter’s voice pulled on her, as strong as the tides. She could not ignore that call. She shed her skin once more, and she carried it back to the young man’s house, her daughter clutching her hand all the way.

She found joy in her children for many years more.

And yet.

In the end her children grew up and moved away, even the daughter who’d begged her to stay. The young man grew old and died. The seal woman also grew old, too old to return to the ocean. She lived, bitter and alone, in the house near the sea.

She did not forget, and she did not forgive–not the young man who stole her from the water, and not the daughter who stopped her when she sought to return.

You don’t want this story either. You want the seal woman to be happy, and her daughter as well. You are trying to be kind.

Try this, then: The girl ran to the edge of the sea, and her mother heard her cries and knew she could not go.

Not that night, and not for many nights after. But one night, when her daughter was nearly grown, the seal woman returned to the waves after all. She did not kiss her children goodbye this time. She did not want anyone calling her back.

Her daughter mourned, but in time she did forgive. She knew her mother had stayed as long as she could. Besides, the girl lived in another town by then, or perhaps even in the city. She had a young man of her own, and she did not wish to return to the house by the sea, for her mother or anyone else. Instead she married, and in time bore children who pulled on her, strong as the tides.

And yet.

The story does not say whether the daughter ever longed to escape her own young man, or even her own children. It says only that she knew she could not leave, not when her mother had left her.

You are still not satisfied. You will have a happy ending, or else none at all.

I cannot give it to you. I can only give you this: The girl was fast enough, and the seal woman heard her cries, even before she pulled her seal skin over her human one.

So she did not go, but neither did she promise to stay. She drew her human daughter close. “I was a seal before you were born,” she said. “I will be a seal after you leave. I am a seal now, and I am also your mother. I will not be only one thing or the other.”

The girl did not understand. She only cried louder, because she thought her mother was leaving her after all.

“Trust me,” the seal woman whispered. She pulled on her seal skin then, and she slid into the sea.

I do not know this story.

Perhaps the girl goes home to mourn her loss, only to have her mother return to her, hours past dark. Perhaps she waits by the water’s edge until the seal woman reappears, dripping and human, to take her daughter once more in her arms.

What I do know is this: as her children grow, the seal woman spends time on land and time at sea. Perhaps the girl rages at this, and perhaps she weeps, because she misses the seal woman, when she is away. Because she wants her mother to be one thing, for her and no one else. I do not know whether the girl will come to understand, in time. Perhaps she’ll forever fear the day the seal woman will leave her for good.

And the seal woman will leave in the end, though not for the sea. You are a child, but surely you know this.

Still, when that day comes there will be nothing to forgive and nothing to forget. By then the girl might have children of her own, in this town or another. I like to think one day she’ll turn to them and say, “Your grandmother, she lived on land, but she also lived in the water.”

I hope there’ll be more joy than sorrow in her voice when she says it, and when she takes her human children into her arms. “Once long ago,” she’ll whisper to them, “there was a seal who loved the sea.”

Then she’ll smile, because she knows this story.


Seal Story” first appeared in Merry Sisters of Fate on February 28, 2011. You can find a full list of my stories here.

Got a routine mission for you today

So, you all know by now that I’m a huge fan of Zombies, Run! right? That app that’s been keeping me running (or, this month, getting me back to running) by (in theory) giving me something to run from while (actually) making me want to know what happens next so badly I have no choice but to run? That app that I first downloaded because I thought it was had clever gimmick but kept playing because it’s really well written and has all sorts of cool and compelling story things going on? That app I geek out about to pretty much anyone who will stand still long enough to listen? Yeah, that app. Well, season 3 starts up this month, and I can finally tell you that … … I wrote a guest episode! I had so much fun writing this, you have no idea. It turns out writing about running from zombies is as much fun as actually running from zombies. Who knew? And the thought of other Runner 5s getting to run to it just fills me with glee. I won’t say anything else now, except that I was a Girl Scout for 12 years and a Girl Scout leader for 8 years and these things just might have had a … teeny tiny bit of influence on the episode.

“Andrew knew that the moon had stolen his parents away …”

Chelsea Mead Kirkpatrick’s film adaptation of my short story “Drawing the Moon” begins shooting in just a few weeks! “Drawing the Moon” first appeared in Bruce Coville’s Book of Nightmares and is the story of a boy who’s convinced the moon has stolen his dead parents away–and who will do anything to get them back. The short clips of the actors in this video gave me shivers in places:
It’s pretty amazing seeing the first hints of how these characters will be brought to life. If you want to help make this film happen (and to get your own DVD of the finished film), you can support the Drawing the Moon film funding campaign here.

Join my new email list

I’m starting a new email list for book news and updates. If you’d like in, you can join here:
Basically, it’s really easy to miss things on the Internet, so this list is for anyone who wants to be sure they don’t skip the important stuff. (Or at least, the important stuff as it relates to me and my books.) I’ll keep posting more frequent updates here (along with a whole bunch of other stuff) here, too, of course!

TusCon GoH, Faerie After award eligibility, and a Drawing the Moon movie

1. I’m GoH (Guest of Honor) at TusCon 41, October 31-November 2, 2014. I’d be delighted if you could join me! 2. SFWA members can nominate 2013 books for the Norton and Nebula awards from now until February 15. If you’re so inclined, Faerie After is among the many fine books that are eligible this year. 3. “Drawing the Moon” will be a short film this summer, directed by Chelsea Garland. Check out the movie’s facebook page for updates.

Returning to my writing roots and a new Darkover anthology

My very first professional sale, back in the early 90s, was to one of Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Darkover anthologies, Leroni of Darkover. After I sent my story, “Cherilly’s Law,” out, I spent three months walking home from my first day job on my lunch hour to check the mail for a response. When the contract to publish my story arrived, it arrived without a cover letter, and I just stared at it for a while, not sure I was understanding it right: that my story really would be appearing in an anthology that would be in a book on bookstore shelves. That sale told me that maybe, just maybe, I could do this writing thing professionally after all, and the knowledge that I’d sold a story once helped push me to continue trying to sell, too. When the anthology came out, I carried it with me for weeks. I still have a battered copy that opens right to the page where my story was, because I broke the spine doing so over and over again. So I was thrilled to be invited to contribute to a new Darkover collection, Stars of Darkover, edited by Deborah J. Ross and Elisabeth Waters and coming out this spring. Returning to Darkover after two decades was a chance to explore how much both my take on the world and my own writing had changed in that time. I kept thinking that you can’t go home again, but also that you can, and especially that ways in which both these things could be true at once was fascinating. You can see the full Stars of Darkover contents here. My story, “All the Branching Paths,” gives voice to Elaine Montray-Aldaran, a character who is deeply influential but never seen in the original Darkover books. “All the Branching Paths” takes place during the years after Elaine’s father returns to Terra and brings a young Darkovan exchange student, Kennard Alton, home with him. Exploring what Elaine and Kennard’s romance might have looked like was fascinating, too. I can’t wait to read all the other stories in the anthology, to see what returning to Darkover has meant for other MZB and MZB-influenced writers, and to discover new voices, too.

News, reviews, and where I’ll be in November

My short story “Drawing the Moon” is being adapted into a short film by Chelsea Garland–details on the movie’s facebook page. “Drawing the Moon” originally appeared in Bruce Coville’s Book of Nightmares. Elizabeth DiFiore created a series of images inspired my short story “Tearing Down the Unicorns”–see her art here. “Tearing Down the Unicorns” first appeared in another Bruce Coville anthology, A Glory of Unicorns. It’s so easy for it to feel like the things we write are “through” within a few weeks or months or maybe a year after we release them into the world. I love these reminders that everything we create echoes out far beyond that.
Takes on Faerie After from Shorewood Library, Faerie Winter from Random Amber, and Bones of Faerie from Nerdy Enough and Randomly Reading and Ranting.
I’ve been taking the past few months off from traveling/conferences/speaking (though I was very sorry to miss everyone at Sirens!) for some much needed retreat/vacation/book-finishing/well-charging time, but will be around and about again in November: Saturday, November 2, 1-2 p.m. Signing at Mostly Books 6208 E Speedway Blvd Tucson, Arizona Perfect for some early holiday shopping–plus, it’s the day before my birthday, so there’ll be cookies/cake, too! Friday-Sunday, November 8-10 TusCon Science Fiction Convention Hotel Tucson City Center 475 N Granada Ave Tucson, Arizona I’ll be reading Friday night at 9 p.m.–come join me!

If you leave your assigned universes one more time I’m turning this car around

Dear Short Story Protagonist, This story does not have enough space or scope for you to have a best friend. I’m sorry! I really am. I should have seen it sooner, but, well, that’s what happens when I get distracted and don’t write short fiction for a while. The next short story protagonist will have an easier time of it. I’m pretty sure. Me P.S. No, no time for that leisurely horseback ride either. But hey! Endangered animal life is a space-efficient world-building tool, so win-win, right?
Dear Secondary Almost-Finished Novel Character, The way you’re standing there, tapping your foot and flapping your wings impatiently as you glare at said protagonist? Not Helping. Me P.S. But hey! Endangered animal life. So it’s not like you can go over there and do anything about it.

This week’s writing lesson

If you’re working on a short story, and you find yourself wondering how you’re going to get all the backstory in–if you find yourself thinking about how interesting the backstory is to you, and wishing there was space for more of it. And if at the same time, you can’t get yourself to move forward much at all on the frontstory, the “real” story, even though you have some prose bits that you like pretty well and all. Then it’s just maybe possible that the backstory is the story, and you should just ditch the frontstory and tell it. Especially if when you try this, your writing pace speeds up dramatically, and you’re no longer just staring at the screen. Just maybe.

“Sometimes you tell the truth / Like you’re pulling taffy”

It’s been … well, longer than I thought … since I last did a review-and-interview roundup post. So! An interview with the Montgomery County Book Festival, where I’ll be February 2. (Are you in the Houston area? Come join us!) An interview with the Mesa Bookman’s, where I chatted about Bones of Faerie with their Young at Heart book club last fall. (If you’re an adult reader of YA in the Phoenix area, you should totally join them for their spring book discussions.) SLJ’s roundup of the Fae-Tal Attraction faerie panel I moderated at NCTE this fall. Includes a link to our handout of recommended YA faerie fiction. FromSkye’s trailer for Bones of Faerie:
Various takes on Bones of Faerie from Writings by K, Readview, For Those About to Read, Bitches with Books, and Fairy Fiction for Young Fans. Takes on Faerie Winter from The Book Fix and Readview. Takes on Thief Eyes from Readview and Mette Ivie Harrison. Planet YA also includes Thief Eyes on this fun map of YA books from every country in Europe. In the Iceland slot, of course. 🙂 A review of The Fortune Teller, edited by Lawrence Schimel, in which I had published the short story “Beyond the Flames” a decade or so ago. Because every book is new if it’s the first time you’re reading it. And Rhiannon says nice things about “Drawing the Moon” and some of my other stories in Bruce Coville’s Book Of series.