My book in progress is all about archetypes and how writers can use them to shape and guide their writing lives. Recently, I’ve been writing and thinking a lot about Zeus, the “Sky Father,” king of the Greek gods.
Zeus isn’t a very likable deity. He is bossy, arrogant, and domineering. He takes what he wants with no thought to anyone else’s feelings, and he is ruthless toward his enemies. Unlike generous motherly Gaia, joyfully wild Bacchus, or wise Apollo, Zeus doesn’t seen at first glance to have much to offer writers. Yet, there are certain ways writers can learn from the Zeus archetype. For example, we could all gain from Zeus’s weapons and tools.
Throwing Your Thunderbolts
Zeus’s favorite weapon is the thunderbolt. He is often pictured with one, and in his myths he frequently hurls them at anyone who defies him.
Thunderbolts are the ultimate symbol of power. They are hot, sudden, and electric. They hit without warning and their strike is deadly. They are also thrown from a distance, making their thrower essentially invulnerable.
Imagine having a quiver of thunderbolts at your side while you write. Any time an enemy appears, all you have to do is hurl one, and ZAP! the intruder goes up in a puff of smoke. Who are these enemies you are incinerating so swiftly and effectively? Doubt. Frustration. Despair. The memory of the teacher who said you’d never make it. The advice of the well-intended parent who told you writing is an impossible career. The words of the editor who slammed your latest story. The voice in your own head that is always saying, “Really? You think you can write?” Throw a thunderbolt at each one, and enjoy the sizzling sound.
Wielding the Adamantine Sickle
Zeus also had a sickle made out of adamant—a mythic substance believed to be the strongest material in the universe.
Sickles aren’t for striking things down at a distance, but they work very well for hacking at stuff that’s in your way. Want to carve a path through the jungle of hopes, dreams, and half-written stories that has grown over your writing life? Cut away at the stuff that isn’t working. The bad habits. The sadness. The fatigue. The distraction. The adamantine sickle will do the trick. Whack, whack, whack. Before you know it, the path is clear.
Wearing the aegis.
Imagine having armor that nothing can get through. The aegis was such a thing—an impenetrable breastplate or shield associated with both Zeus and his daughter, Athena. Zeus owed his successful conquest of the entire universe in part to the power of the aegis.
An internal aegis is wonderful aid to getting through the writing life well. Obviously, we don’t want to be too armored. But how useful it would be to have a shield that makes disappointments, rejections, failed stories and poems, and the many “slings and arrows” of the writing life bounce off us, rather than lodge in our hearts!
How do you create an aegis? Athena made hers from the skin of a fire-breathing monster she’d slain. We can take a page from her story and create an aegis by slaying the grief and fear in our lives. The strength and courage it takes to slay those fire-breathers can be a powerful shield. But Zeus made his aegis from the skin of a goat, Almathea, who suckled him when he was a baby. So, an aegis can also be made from the things that nourish and support us, the gentle things that give us life. Perhaps the best armor is built out of both—the strength we gain from conquering our fear and the things in our life that nourish our souls.
Thunderbolts to destroy the enemies in our heads. A sickle to cut away obstacles. A shield to protect us against the difficulties of the writing life. With these tools, who knows how far we can go?
Beautifully written and essential advice.
Thanks, Heather!