Down the wormhole?

I am waiting for a hospital appointment. I have now been waiting for nearly three weeks and have heard nothing. It is a good thing that I am not expecting them to find what they are looking for, or I might well be beyond help before they found it. In fact, the longer the waiting goes on, the more likely they are to say they couldn’t actually find a brain at all, just a quivering lump of jelly, flolloping around in an empty skull and looking for a way out.

Because I do not fancy the thought of an hour stuffed down a wormhole with a pneumatic drill.

A wormhole is, of necessity, just big enough for the worm, with no room for manoeuvre. That’s bad enough. Knowing you will be strapped down and immobilised before they shove you in the thing, making any attempt at a hurried escape utterly impossible, is just adding insult to injury.

If you are lucky, they give you a mirror so you can watch your toes turn blue as you try not to shiver in the overly-air-conditioned room.

Even so, you breathe deep, start to meditate, you are fine… and then the pneumatic drill starts clattering and crashing around your head.

I hate MRI scans. And I’ve never had to have one likely to take quite this long before. And I am really not looking forward to it.

Personally, I blame Alan Garner.

His book, ‘The Weirdstone of Brisingamen’, was a favourite when I was young. But there is a passage in the book where Colin and Susan are lost in the old mine workings beneath Alderley Edge… a passage where their terrifying progress through the narrow tunnels is so graphically described that I had nightmares about it. Still, occasionally, have nightmares about it.

There are all kinds of dream interpretations out there, from the sublime to the ridiculous, from the basic ‘new beginning’ angle to memories of being born. In this case, though, I know exactly where they started…  deep in the tunnels beneath Alderley Edge.

Which just goes to show how influential books can be, especially children’s books. Granted, my current predicament may not be the best example of why we should read to, and write for, children… Much as I loved the Weirdstone, I won’t be buying it for my granddaughters for a good few years yet.

But when someone asked me the other day whether or not it was really worth them finishing their story and adding yet another book to the millions already out there, I thought of Garner and said an emphatic ‘yes’.

You can never know…unless someone is kind enough to leave a review or get in touch with the author… how deeply a book can change a life. You may sell one or two copies… you may sell thousands… but, chances are, you will never know how they affected their readers.

And the effects stories have are not usually so uncomfortable…. Decades after the books were first read to me, wardrobes are still magical places…especially old ones that smell of mothballs… and, because of the stories I read as a child, I still walk the earth in wonder, watching for trolls under bridges and eyes in the trees.

So, to any budding author out there who doubts whether or not it is ‘worth’ writing their story … just think back to the books you have read and how they have shaped the way you walk through the world… and remember that what the reader takes away from any story will be theirs alone. All stories will speak to someone… and you may never know how much your words could change a reader’s life.

Hopefully, though, not by giving them nightmares…

About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email:
This entry was posted in Life and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

64 Responses to Down the wormhole?

  1. Sadje says:

    I hope that all goes well Sue.

    Liked by 1 person



  3. The relationship between writer and reader through the medium of a book really is unique, at once distant and close. It can be an unspoken secret on the reader’s part and only a fleeting hope on the writer’s. I have not yet had an MRI, but have heard of their discomforts from others. I hope yours goes well and is not too great a test of fortitude!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. jenanita01 says:

    I hope this beastly test is just routine and not for something significant, Sue…


  5. queadrian says:

    You will be all right, Sue, I would wish you well and happy.🌹


  6. quiall says:

    I am who I am because of where I have been in the pages of a book! The world is there to be explored, to be experienced, to be a part of and that all starts with someone’s words. Perhaps the greatest gift my parents every gave me was the love of words, of reading.


  7. V.M.Sang says:

    I hope your scan goes well and isn’t too traumatic.
    I, too, loved The Weirdstone. A great book. I actually read it as an adult in my twenties, but loved it as much as I would have done as a child.
    You are right when you say we don’t know what effect our books have on people. I just hope mine don’t give nightmares, though!


  8. Darlene says:

    Good luck with the MRI. Not sure I could do it. But I am such a big wimp. I couldn´t handle scary stories as a child, still can´t. I try not to make my books too scary, a few tense moments but nothing that should induce nightmares.


    • Sue Vincent says:

      Thanks, Darlene. I’ve head them before, but this one will be a long one and I am not looking forward to it.
      I didn’t mind being scared by books as a child, but that particular scene from the book, although it was no worse than any other when I read it, seems to have connected with something and from there the nightmares were born.


  9. Don’t think I read Weirdstone, though I remember it being around. Definitely read The Owl Service – several times. A great message for writers, Sue. Hope the MRI goes okay – when it eventually happens. They aren’t fun.


  10. I’ve never had an MRI, but it does not sound appealing. I hope it goes smoothly and swiftly. ❤


  11. Mary Smith says:

    I hope you get your appointment soon so it’s not looming over you for too much longer. Good luck with it. You are so right about the impact books – or even one book – can have on the reader. I wonder how I would have turned out as an adult if I hadn’t had books to read as a child?


  12. Adele Marie says:

    I hate MRI scans as well, even with ear plugs playing the radio it’s still horrible, but I do hope you get seen soon and that everything goes well. xxx


  13. MRI’s are rather ghastly, Sue. I am glad you are expecting a positive outcome. Any hospital procedures is always scary and upsetting.


  14. TamrahJo says:

    My dad often said in exasperation with ‘setting appointments’ when given a ‘date option 6 weeks+ from day he called’

    “Well, Hell! By then either I’ll be better or I’ll be dead – what’s the point?”

    As he walked through the path of cancer diagnosis and the subsequent journey, it was said more often – –

    That said – pneumatic drills and MRIs and such do not sound like fun NOR do I have any faith in what MRIs really tell, fully – – from experience of my son, ripped out shoulder, and the comment from the doctor shortly after his surgery started, “I came out to tell you, the surgery will be longer, as it appears NONE of it is still attached to the bone, and we couldn’t see it on the MRI – how that boy has been getting through the pain of the injury, I do not know”

    Sigh – 3 months, 7 days after the initial injury that was diagnosed as “loose tendons, prone to dislocation, we’ll just go in and tighten ’em up” –

    Best wishes on results, procedures and recovery – – and nice segue into encouraging other authors – sending your link to an author friend of mine asking himself the very question you just referred to!


    • Sue Vincent says:

      Thanks, Tamrah Jo, I’m sort of hoping that as they are looking at soft tissue, they will definitely not find what they are looking for 😉

      Liked by 1 person

      • TamrahJo says:

        Um…yeah…soft tissue – I’m convinced the tech machines are not as good at assessing such things as folks thing they are – – from me own and family members experiences over the years – so, I will ‘hold the space of hope, couched in “those idiots, HOW dare they create such confusion when honesty could have avoided it all….” but then, that’s just me – if THINKING it will turn out positive AND believing it will – well – ya got yourself covered – and Ani flying back up ! :). Still – wanted to send encouragement and possiblities on why they may be wrong and how I am looking/hoping it all turns out okay in the end – no matter who says what – 😀


  15. Eliza Waters says:

    Waiting is the worst part. Hopefully they’ll give you some good music to listen to and you’ll be in and out in a jiffy. Of course, after all that, they’ll tell you you’re fine! 😉


  16. dgkaye says:

    Sending you goof thoughts and white light Sue. You will be fine ❤ Don't think otherwise. 🙂 xx


  17. Widdershins says:

    Ah yes, MRI’s … they taped my feet together for my last one because my feet kept flopping to the side (where they’re supposed to go when one is laying on one’s back) … fun memories. I hope you hear about yours soon.


  18. Ugh! I hate those things! Good luck when it happens. Hope you can get it over with sooner rather than later. Also, hope whatever health issues are causing them to want to put you through it can be discovered and resolved – or at least controlled.


  19. willowdot21 says:

    Lol Sue 💜, I am having an MRI on my back this week, like you not my first. I hope you get your appointment soon as the wait is always worse than the deed 💜


  20. Alli Templeton says:

    That’s terrible that you’re being kept waiting for an appointment, Sue. I hope they pull their finger out and you can get the experience over with. I hope it all goes well for you, and I wish you all the very best. ❤


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.