The wordspinner was a young woman with an old spinster's soul. She worked in isolation, removed from the world, content within her imaginary cocoon. While people her age (and even younger) got married and started families and happily settled into a lifetime of routines, she longed for just the opposite: quiet time and lack of structure. No fixed schedules for eating and sleeping and "working". For her work was her raison d'etre; her subsistence, her very existence.
The words made her head spin, didn't let her sleep at night. Though they didn't always come easily. Rarely so. Often, they jarred and bored and needed to be re-spun entirely or touched up with a snip here and a tuck there. Embellishments were often needed to dress up the plain words and make them sparkle with genius.
Her words tired her, made her eyes hurt from staring at them so much and tweaking relentlessly to achieve perfection or at least her idea of it. For what is perfection but merely a point of view? But despite the strain and frustration, she kept at her work, resolutely, in the unending quest of getting better and better and spinning more elaborate prose for her beloved word lovers. .The people who read her stuff and liked it and appreciated it.
Sometimes, she tried to sell her words but mostly ended up giving them away for free just so that they could go out there and be heard, perhaps even touch or help someone. When payment did come, it was prized and treasured and inspired the many applications she sent out - to a fellowship here, a residency there. Earning for her words lent the courage to think "Maybe I'm good enough to do something great, to be great."
Picture from: http://annainherwonderland.com/