Like Bees to Honey

The theme of my life lately has been ‘BEES’.

It all started when somebody on Scribophile posted a link to a writing comp. Essentially on the Unfettered site there are ten beautiful images from featured artist, Terry Whidborne, and you choose one to use as a prompt/muse/inspiration to write a story. One of the pictures features a girl suspended between two bees. It leapt out at me and I had my theme.

Check all the images out here: http://the7thworld.com/unfettered/

Lately I’ve been discussing bees with my students, not in detail, more in passing. We’ve been discussing the rules of the kitchen garden (reminding really after the long Christmas break) and one of the major issues centres around why we encourage insects into the garden rather than stepping on them. Yes, I’m looking at you, year 2 student who-shall-not-be-named.

So I thought I was up for a beautiful, gentle bee story full of sweetness and flowers and the great engineering feats rendered through the power of co-operative effort. It didn’t quite go like that.

My bees realise their importance to life on Earth and it has done something unforeseen to their egos. They know we need them, we encourage them, we plant flowers to feed them. And they like it. They are evil, bloodthirsty buzz-happy monsters. Who knew?

To supplement the violence and bloodlust of the story, I thought I’d insert the odd bee-related quote or riddle; some ancient myths and superstitions. I began researching and I’ve become obsessed.

I read about them, I dream about them, my flash fiction is becoming a novel. I escaped into a (fantastic) mystery novel set in the Canadian wilderness which turned out to have bees as part of the central answer to the mystery.

I got a notification that someone had repined one of my pics on pinterest – one I pinned months ago & haven’t even looked at since then. It was a cartoon featuring a bee and they inserted it onto their own board titled ‘Bee Happy’.

I feel torn between happiness that fate seems to be leading me on and fear that bees are stalking me and somehow all that I write will come to be(e).

If my body is found drowned in a puddle of honey, I expect anybody reading this to find the bee/s responsible & take revenge.

Have you ever become obsessed by a story theme? Did it wear off?

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