Steppenbitch
What color are my eyes?
Dirty seawater.
My license says blue.
In photos, they appear brown.
Thin hair looked like a nest of starving barn mice, so I poisoned them.
Mostly bottle blonde.
My body is a TV with no signal.
It’s a stranger in photos.
Familiar in thrifted clothes.
My skin is perpetually folding and smoothing.
Turkey leg and young branch arms.
Does my voice sound like Church Lady at a teen mom’s baby shower?
Like a priestess who lives deep in the green-dark woods?
I’ve stepped into many molds,
Too formless for roots,
And so
Everlasting and uncommitted.
I began writing 100-word stories about seven years ago while I was living in Lyon, France. I moved thinking that it would be a prolific year. My professors told me that I’d write a novel, maybe even two, during my time there. Instead, a lifetime of anxiety I’d tried to suppress rose to the surface. I wrote 100-word stories, at first, as a way to feel productive through internal chaos, external suspension. These stories became important to me, vital, really.
I wrote these stories while I was frozen by the misconception that I had to publish by a certain age, that I had to reach success by a certain age or I’d be disregarded. This myth, inflicted upon youth and then perpetuated by the young, hurts everyone, stifles everyone. I was part of this cycle. As a result, I did little. When I did create, it was with a voice who wasn’t me inside of my head. This voice is still with me, but less so. I mourn what could have been, though I have learned from what was. The stories were for me, and I believe that’s where art of any kind should emerge from—the unselfconscious soul. The refinement comes later. The self is a wellspring. From these stories, short stories, some of which have been published and will soon be published have emerged. So has a novel I’m working on about a woman who has relationships with tornadoes.
On a craft level, these 100-word stories taught me how to “kill my darlings.” In life, I used them to express what I saw around me, what I witnessed online, to process, and sometimes, to be absurd. I wrote these stories consistently for four years until it came to a natural end, and I was ready to move on. I put all of the stories into a manuscript three years ago, titled Steppenbitch.
Steppenbitch is the title of one of the 100-word stories, but the name is inspired by Herman Hesse’s Steppenwolf. A core idea presented in Steppenwolf is that people are of two natures, spiritual and animalistic and that the soul is multifaceted. The multifaceted soul is what resonated with me, as I’m sure it does with many, or most, on some level. When I began writing these stories, I was unsettled by the feeling that my soul was split. Steppenbitch was my expression of this, using the word for a female wolf, “bitch,” which simply amused me. I’m not always at peace with the limited nature of a single lifetime, but I am both comforted and excited by the possibility of limitless expression.
I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with the manuscript since 2020. Traditional publishing? If they’ll have me. Self-publishing? We’ll see. I’ve let this book sit in stasis, and now that I’ve entered a new period in my life and artistry, I need to decide what to do with it before I disconnect with the stories.
I don’t know what will become of Steppenbitch. Even if Steppenbitch stays with me only, it was a gift I gave myself–many ideas for future creation, some of which I am not yet ready, don’t yet have the skill or experience, to write. I’ve learned to let things emerge in their own time, as I work steadily, grateful to be here, even if it is limited to one body, one life.
As I was talking to a friend about Steppenbitch, he suggested that I play with AI generated art for my stories. I’ve stayed away from AI art because I know it is controversial, but I started to experiment with it for fun. A few days ago, using Midjourney, I began to use the content of my stories as prompts. It has been interesting to see how AI interprets my words, how the results do or do not resonate with the feelings I had and the imagery I saw as I wrote. I enjoyed the process, so I thought I would share it with you.
The first story is the titular Steppenbitch. The next posts may or may not be from the manuscript. This is what Midjourney came up with based on the content from Steppenbitch. I was surprised and pleased with it. Surprised because it is not a kind depiction of how I saw myself at the time. Pleased because this is an aesthetic that I love and that resonates with my inner self.
I’m not sure how to make this official but I am adding your entire blog to the curriculum I call A Narrative of Wholeness. I am recommending participants in core discussion groups can bring quotes from this blog to discussions with the purpose of helping individuals in their individual journeys while building a community. Your content is perfect for this.
Published or self published I hope you find a way to share your writing, what you are sharing here is really good.