Death is Eternal #350

Sunday. May 28, 2023. 2,664 words.

Have you ever felt numb? Like, completely numb. From top to bottom, inside and out? Well, regardless, I’ll, again, try something different with this Death is Eternal. But this time, it’ll be a long-lasting change. Maybe. Enigmatic? No. I’m a writer, and we call this a “cliffhanger.”

Contents

1. Alewife (intro)

2. Alewife

3. Writing: Creative freedom

4. Bye!

5. What have I been writing lately?

6. Last week (May 22 to 28, 2023)

7. This week (May 29 to June 4, 2023)

8. Death is Eternal review #207: The Blob

9. Death is Eternal review #208: Pretty in Pink

10. The end

1. Alewife (intro)

I don’t remember how I came across the “alewife” term. Still, I remember that it was related to them being the foundation of the imagery we now associate with witches—pointed hats, brooms, unmarried/independent, and cauldrons. But that is incorrect. And that was a bummer because my plans involved creating a narrative involving witches and witchcraft. But since that’d be historically incorrect, I’d to write something else. And being completely honest, I think that was for the better in every way. Well, I hope you enjoy this first draft.

2. Alewife

“But that’s not fucking fair!” She wanted to scream, but she knew she couldn’t. So, she only exclaimed, raising her voice just a little bit.

“Watch your tongue, young lady,” warned the man.

“The women in my family have been making ale for almost a century. Do you think it’s fair for you to come here and say I can’t do it anymore?”

The man smiled; he was having so much fun in crushing that woman—as much fun as he had with the last one and will have with the next one, “I did not say you could not do it anymore; all I said was that from now on, ale is a trade and, as such, only men can do it.”

The woman wanted to scream. The woman wanted to rip that cruel smile from the bastard’s mouth. Instead, she did the only thing she could, “Please, reconsider. Change the law. I don’t need a husband. I can do things on my own,” she was almost crying, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t want to give him the boner he desired so hard. “I’ve been doing things on my own since I was a kid.”

“I cannot change the law,” he lied.

She couldn’t believe it. “Yes, yes, you can!” She asserted.

The man looked deep into her eyes as if he was thinking too hard about her words, “You know what?” He began. “You are absolutely right. I can change the law. Actually, I not only can, but I already have. Whose idea do you think it was to make the ale trade something that needs things that only men have, such as capital, cultural, legal, and social resources?”

She was trembling. The rage was consuming her. She needed to do something. She wouldn’t let him get away with it.

“Before you do anything, I must remember you who I am. Take that into consideration before doing something...” he pretended to look for the word. He had given that speech many times now, more than he could count. The address was already part of him. “...irrational. However, how could I expect rationality from a woman,” he said the last word with disgust. He truly hated women.

At that point, she felt defeated. She needed to do something. There was nothing she could do.

He noted that the conversation had ended. He rushed to the door; there were many more women to crush. But before he left, he turned and said, “Get yourself a husband. Women should take care of the home and the family and, more importantly, women should stay out of men’s business.”

He closed the door.

A couple of seconds later, she said to herself, “Are men never satisfied? Must they take more and more and never leave anything to us? When will this starvation end?”

The end

3. Writing: Creative freedom

Credit: DALL-E 2 (a person standing still looking up surrounded by thought balloons, the balloons are filled with different concepts and ideas, it’s almost like the person is trying to choose one)

This’ll be an exciting thing to write about because as I think about what I want to say, I can already hear the voices in my head going from one argument to the other and making my opinion change as they present it to one another. By the way, is it wild to have multiple voices in your head with different views? Asking for a friend...

So, what I first thought about writing here is that, in hindsight, I shouldn’t care about respecting what is historically correct or not. It’s historical fiction, after all. And so, I should’ve allowed myself some breathing room. It’s not a problem to be creative and change things here and there when your first goal is to entertain and not educate.

I firmly believe this!

Having some reality is essential when writing fiction, but reality shouldn’t stand in the way of the story you want to tell. After all, what is fiction if not the creation of new facts? More importantly, all historical fiction comes with a certain degree of historically incorrect facts.

However, and that became apparent as I reread the flash fiction, trying to be historically correct made me write something I didn’t plan and that now, I love more than if I had followed my original plan. Take the last phrase as an example, “Are men never satisfied? Must they take more and more and never leave anything to us? When will this starvation end?”

If the story were about witches, I certainly would’ve ended with the woman getting her revenge through spells and potions. And although I could’ve made it work, it wouldn’t be as powerful as what I wrote. Forcing me to try and be as historically correct as I can be, made me create something I’m more proud of than if I followed my original plan. And that made me think.

As a fiction writer, I always thought I was venturing through a world where everything is possible. The penultimate book—still on pen and paper (I should digitize it)—I wrote it’s proof of that. It’s about a serial killer, and I planned on talking with a psychologist to try and understand the psyche of serial killers. But I never did it because I was afraid of adapting the story to what they really think and how they truly behave. I had the story, the motivations, the modus operandi, and I didn’t want to change anything. Now, now I see it was a mistake.

Having to adapt your story to facts makes it better because it demands you to be more creative. You can’t merely write what comes to mind; you have to think if it works or not, and having to think about your story is what makes it better.

So, although we fiction writers have creative freedom to write about whatever we want—I mean, dragons aren’t real—creating limitations that make us reflect on what we are writing is the best way to ensure the best story you can tell.

Interesting.

4. Bye!

Here’s where we say our farewell to the free subscribers. If you want to read the rest of Death is Eternal, consider becoming a paying subscriber. If you already are a paying subscriber, first of all, thank you very, very much! And second, I’ll see you on the other side of the paywall.