The dangerous life of the silkworm

Went with Jackie to a meeting of the Spinners and Weavers Guild to hear a talk about raising silkworms.  The thing that struck me was how vulnerable they are–the speaker had lost silkworms to any number of threats.  Cats had eaten some.  Possums had eaten some that were in the garage.  For a while the legs of the table they were on had to be placed in dishes of water, because ants were carrying off young silkworms.

I wrote something over 600 words.  Or, rather, I wrote about three times that many, but tossed most of them.  And what I’ve got still isn’t right.  The work hasn’t been wasted–I’m beginning to understand what I’m doing wrong.  I’ve had the characters working together, when at this point what I need to do is sharpen their conflicts.  I don’t know the details yet.  Perhaps by morning it will be clear.  If not, I can write and throw away another 1800 words.  The word count tracking is in service of producing a good story, not an end in itself.

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