*bespoke* zine

the cover of *bespoke* issue 4

*bespoke* zine is the creation of Jessica Van Den of Epheriell Designs, a blogger, zine publisher, jewellery maker, and all around fabulous lady from Brisbane, Australia. A few months back Jess called on the crafty community to submit ideas for issue 4 of the zine. I said it would be great to do a little piece on drabble writing, something I like to do in my spare time and tend to hideaway on another tiny writing blog. A little while later Jess got back to me saying it was a great idea and can I write up 200 words for the zine.

My little bit in the zine

I think my head nearly exploded before I went into panic mode as I dug through my notebook and files to find a few craft based drabbles. I then tried to pull my thoughts together to explain not only why I write them but what drabbles actually are. I was quite possibly a nervous wreck and bothered several of my best friends (Thank you so much) to read through my article before I sent if off to Jess for her approval. Jess asked if I had any photos to include with my drabble article. I didn't but I knew just who to ask. At which point I bribed Matt with promises of cake and chocolate to get him to take some photos of my craft/writing space, dolls and general clutter. I'm pretty sure I still owe him more cake.

So now you must all go out and order issue 4 of *bespoke*, because you all love me very much and want to see what I wrote. Right? Right?

Huntress (a Drabble)

Drabble From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
A drabble is an extremely short work of fiction exactly one hundred words in length, although the term is often misused to indicate a short story of less than 1000 words. The purpose of the drabble is brevity and to test the author's ability to express interesting and meaningful ideas in an extremely confined space. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drabble


The moon and stars glimmer in the pool of night blackened water. Leaves dance in a caress of foul wind carrying the scent of fire, cloying smoke, burnt flesh, the bitter tang of metal, the taint and filth of humanity. The smell of death. Twigs snap and branches break, echoing in the forest, and the pool is invaded by men, bloodstained warriors all. They drink of the water, muddying it with the blood and gore of battle. Filling the night with raucous laughter, course words and the clinking of coins. Green eyes blaze fire in the dark. The Huntress awakens.