A View from a Writer’s Brain

Years ago, a guy asked me if he could shadow me for a day. He was interested in what a writer does, and he wanted to watch me.

Unlike other professions where shadowing can help and get someone excited about a profession, writing is not quite that. Or at least that’s what I told him at the time. But something happened to me recently that showed me how interesting—and quite weird—writing can be.

Or at least what happens when two of us get talking…

It all started in the middle of the night when I got up to use the bathroom. I know this isn’t where the most exciting of stories begins, but this is where mine does.

When I went to wash my hands, I saw a stink bug—ON THE BRISTLES OF MY HUSBAND’S TOOTHBRUSH!

I thought I was going to faint. Not because I’m afraid of stink bugs, but rather because it made me wonder if it had done this before.

Carefully, I picked up the toothbrush, opened the lid of the toilet, flicked the bug into the bowl, and flushed it off to its heavenly reward.

Then I threw out Brad’s toothbrush.

Then I threw out my toothbrush. And the rubber-tipped thing I have to use on my gums.

Then I began to wonder how many other bugs had been crawling on our toothbrushes over the years. I returned to bed, where I was awake for an hour completely grossing myself out with even more bug-related thoughts. But I’ll save those for another column.

The next morning, I called my friend, Rosie, who is a fellow writer, and told her about my nightmare. She laughed and said how bugs don’t bother her. So I began listing off the bugs that do and don’t bother me, and when and where they could—like sitting on my toothbrush.

Then it began. Rosie asked a question which sent me down the proverbial rabbit hold of no return. She simply asked, “I wonder why they call them cobwebs?”

Here’s where our writers’ brains kick in. We had to know. Back in the day, I would have run to the encyclopedia or dictionary or even called my local library’s information hotline. Now with Google, I was able to find out in a few keystrokes.

(In case you’re wondering, the word “cobweb” comes from the time when Old English was used. The word for spider was “coppe,” so that became cop then cobwebs.

As they say in infomercials, but wait, there’s more…

I also found out that only certain spiders spin what we refer to as “cobwebs.” Only Theridiidea (known as cobweb spiders) and Linyphiidea (known as money spiders) spin webs that are cobwebs. All the rest of them are known as “spider webs.”

Well, Rosie and I thought that this was just too cool. But then she followed up with, “I wonder what a money spider is.”

Note: Rosie was not near her computer, so I ended up Googling all this. But the reason I didn’t mind is that this stuff is like a compulsion for writers. If we ask or think of a question that is easily answered, we simply must know what that answer is—as soon as possible.

I’m sure that many due dates have been just barely made because writers were down rabbit holes looking up who knows what…or cleaning their entire homes. We also do that to avoid working.

Um, unless any of my editors are reading this. If that’s the case, please know that I never procrastinate and do these other things that would take me away from my work for you. Did I mention how nice you look today?

But I digress…

So then I had to look up money spiders so that our brains would be satisfied. Turns out that Linyphiidea or money spiders, which they are called in the UK, Ireland, Australia, New Zealand and many other places that aren’t the United States, get their names from superstition. If one runs on you—and they’re also called “sheet weavers,” but I ended up following another rabbit hole which I’ll get to in a minute—it meant that it had come to spin you new clothes…which meant a financial reward was coming your way.

Oh…My…God! This was so interesting!

Finally, Rosie mentioned that she wasn’t afraid of shield bugs. 

“What’s a shield bug?” I asked. She said it was the same as a stink bug.

Back to Google again…

Shield bugs are in the same family as sting bugs—they’re known as Pentatomoidea—and also include burrow bugs and giant shield bugs.

I made the mistake of looking up giant shield bugs. They can be as big as two-inches long and two-inches wide.

Clunk…sorry. I think I fainted there for a minute. They wouldn’t just sit on Brad’s toothbrush; they would be using it themselves.

Do they have teeth? I wonder…

Michele “Wojo” Wojciechowski, when she’s not Googling “Do giant shield bugs have teeth?” and falling down another rabbit hole, writes “Wojo’s World®” from Baltimore. She’s also the author of the award-winning book Next Time I Move, They’ll Carry Me Out in a Box. You can connect with Wojo on Facebook or on Twitter.

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