Without them, the world would be inundated with insects—and yet nothing gets me to shriek louder than seeing a giant spider dart across the floor.
But something shifted a few months ago. Maybe it's because I'm married to a Buddhist, or want to set a better example for my animal-loving daughter. It started small—mostly coaxing spiders onto a piece of paper so I can transport them outside; or explaining aloud that they could stay as long as they slinked away when I wasn't looking.
And as if on cue, spiders began showing up everywhere—in my bedsheets, during my workouts, and in the shower. I know from shamanic journeying that an animal's presence is never random, so I started digging into the spider energy as an animal teacher and guide—which got me thinking about the web-making process.
If you've ever examined a spider web, you'll see how mesmerizing they are at scale. Once they use the wind to find a structural anchor—think a wall, a doorjamb, or a piece of furniture—for their silk, they reinforce the thread, add the spokes and frame, and create the spiral that captures prey. If something isn't structurally sound, they'll eat the silk and restart. And if you've ever damaged a web, unintentionally or not, you'll find that the next morning, the spider has already repaired the damage.
In other words, web-making feels a lot like the creative process…except in hindsight, I was prematurely focused on the spirals, not the anchor.
So after writing 27,000 words and hating most of them, I finally got to wondering: was there another project in my universe with a better entry point? Something that would give agents the clean debut they wanted, without compromising the world I spent years building up?
Three weeks later, I surprised myself with a full outline—42 scenes, with every character arc accounted for.
So that's the project I'll be drafting this summer. It's a story about a struggling yoga teacher reclaiming her identity after motherhood, with a dash of Dungeons & Dragons. (Yup, you read that correctly.)
That's all I'm willing to share right now BUT—I did make a playlist, carefully choreographed to the story's Save the Cat beats.
So listen and enjoy—I'll be weaving away while my daughter's at camp, with plans to return in the Fall to share what's taken shape.
Wishing you an amazing summer,
Sophia :)
In my spider era 🕸️
Web-making, world-building, and why I stopped screaming