W: Wanton and Wild

In a book I read once upon a time on Medieval history (Growing Up in Medieval London)the author stressed the concept of Medieval children beginning as 'wanton and wild' and becoming 'sad and wise'. The idea is not quite as dismal as it appears as the Medieval concept of 'sad' was more serious than forlorn and yet . . . who would choose to be serious when they could be wanton and why oh why must 'wild' be the obvious counterpart to 'wise'?

I am contesting long forgotten conventions, of course, which means that there will be no one (or few) to dispute my theories but I feel that some of the attitude from that concept may have leaked through the centuries of our culture. It is understandable that in an age of such violence and political instability predictability would be valued in a person's behavior. It is also understandable that those even of today who have lived longer might look at the antics of those who haven't with a slight shake of the head and think "They have no idea". Still, there is an undertone of lifelessness in giving up everything associated with youth once one enters the throws of wisdom. From my side of enlightenment --wanton and wild though it may be --it looks an awful lot like defeat. Wouldn't it be great if there was a way of reaching wisdom without allowing the world to beat the wildness out of us?

And so I read. And so I write. And so I live.

S: Selkies

A selkie is a seal shape shifter from celtic folk lore. The selkie sheds its skin and becomes human, usually to get married. Unless their spouse keeps the skin hidden from them, however, they soon sucomb to their longings to return to the sea and abandon their family.

Movies featuring selkies:

Ondine


The Secret of Roan Inish


Books featuring selkies:

Worfskin by Julliet Marillier



Foxmask by Julliet Marillier


Tower at Stony Wood by Patricia McKillip

P: Pelinore

Today I have invited a special guest to come by and give us some insights about life, the universe, and everything. Or at least his involvement in my WIP. Please welcome King Pelinore of Arthurian fame.

*King Pelinore, a thin knight with long greying hair and hint of rust around the edges of his dented armor, raises his lance and releases a battle cry as he enters*

Me: Carefull Pelinore. Don't scare everytbody away

Pelinore: Oh right. Sorry. *he sets his lance down across his knees as he takes a seat* I'm still not used to this 'peace' thing.

Me: I understand. You've grown up in a very violent enviorment.

Pelinore: Ha! Not unless being called to arms every other year and constantly defending my castle againts bandits is a violent enviorment.

Me: It is.

Pelinore: Well then. I guess I did.

Me: Did King Uther really summon his kings and lords to battle every other year?

Pelinore: Give or take. Some battle sessions lasted longer than others and of course he never summoned the kings and lords he was planning to do battle against. Except once but he already had his real army, assembled in secret, waiting for them.

Me: You must be relieved that your new king hasn't summoned anyone for battle in the full three years of his riegn.

Pelinore: Ha! Beardless sop! I could use a good battle. Its as dull as a marriage around here these days.

Me: Ehem *glancing at the lance strewn across his knees* You are a mythic character rather than someone born entirely out of my mind. Does your work in my WIP feel like old helmet to you?

Pelinore: Old crown. I'm a king, remember?

Me: Right. Sorry. Does your work in my WIP feel like old crown to you?

Pelinore: Not really. I'm always glad to give Camelot another visit of course, but at the same time I'm not exactly the same Pelinore from all those myths. I retain part of their energy and influence and many of the same charactoristics but I am my own character and to me the experience is entirly new.

Me: Do you think that some of my readers who have seen you --or other manifestations of you --before might think they've heard every possible version of Camelot?

Pelinore: If you mean they might be tired of them no. My fans are always glad to see me. They might get bored during the pages between my scenes though --That reminds me. Looking at the word count so far would suggest that I am not actually your protagonist. This is ridiculous of course but I was wondering if we could negotiate --

Me: It looks like we're out of time. I'll see you soon Pelinore within the pages of my WIP.

O: Orkney Isles

The Orkney Isles are located in the far north of Scotland. They hold a lot historical and prehistorical past in their soil and their culture has been remarkably preserved compared to the rest of the UK and yet what facinates me about them are the myths about them. The fairy stories about kings and queens and knight who may never have existed. Never underestimate the power of a myth. The stories that play over and over in people's mind reguardless of facts.

L: Ladies of the Lake

It seems like there is always some slight confusion surounding the Lady of the Lake of Arthurian legends. This is because there is actually more than one.

First, there is Vivian. It of course depends on which version you are looking at but she is usually the one who gives Arthur excalaber. I have some how got it into my head that she's the one in charge. Maybe because she appears first.

Nimue is usually the one who sorcels Merlin into a tree.

And, finally, Nyneve is the one who joins the court of Camelot in the quest of the white hart in the begginning of Le Morte D'Arthur.

Other varients of these characters include Viviane, Viviana, Vivienne, Elaine, Ninianne, Nivian, Nimueh, and Myish in various poetry and novels.

This is all to say that, in concstructing my ladies of the lake I can make whatever decisions I want about them. *insert evil laugh here*



Also, this is my eleventy oneth post. In commemoration of the fact I would like to let you know that one hundred and one posts is far too short a time to spend among such admirable readers. I don't know half of you half as well as I should like to know you and ---well I'll skip that part because I don't have a magic ring and am not going anywhere anytime soon. I just thought it would be a good time to thank you all for reading. I am honored that you take the time to sift through my ramblings.

K: Kitchen Knave

Yesterday, instead of dutifully blogging a clever "k" oriented insight, I conducted some research in a particularly tasty form.

First, I made, as featured in my WIP, Cormarye (roast pork) --only no one at my house eats pork so I used tofu sausage-- and served it with a Irish guada cheese and garlic bread.



This was followed shortly thereafter by Tartys in Applis



So now I can more accurately describe the flavors of saffron (which is more or less pure magic), caraway, and coriander. Because, of course, that was my only motive for this particular activity.

I pulled the recipies from medivialcookery.com should any of you wish to try them.

Eyes Bigger Than . . . Well My Eyes

I hate skimming books for research instead of emerceing myself in every detail and digesting them slowly.

I hate passing books that look interesting in the bookstore without even reading the back.

I hate returning books to the library unopened to avoid late fees.

I hate turning in work I know could be better if I'd had another day to edit.

I hate only reading two or three blogs before I realize I have to be somewhere.

I hate sitting down in front of the computer and, instead of getting lost in the words wiggling out of my fingers, keeping my eyes on the clock and panicing when I see how low my word count is.

I hate only giving a sentence or two of commentary instead of anylizing line by line.

It may be time for me to do less in order for me to do more.

Do You Trust Your Story?

In doing research on alchemy for one of my manuscripts I was surprised by how much accuracy I had already put into my alchemist character (because, of course, waiting until I am finished before drafting is unheard of, involving, I don't know, logic or something). Some of this, like his involvement with the stars, herbs and explosives as well as turning metals into gold are logical enough. They are all different early branches of chemistry and physics, and probably filtered into my head from various sources I've read in the past and then forgotten about. But others, like his preoccupation with purifying the soul, I was surprised to discover were typical for alchemists. This is good because I won't have to make any major modifications to keep things accurate but it also proves that you can never go wrong in trusting your story. Sometimes you know things you didn't know you knew. You just have to Trust.

Trust. It's not quite the same thing as "believing in". That comes later. After you've finished and are sorting through piles of rejections every week.

Trust. That is when you follow your story even when it pulls you away from your original plan.

Trust is when a brilliant second opinion tells you to make a change that you just can't even though logically it would make sense (be careful with this one, I'm not trying to say not to be open to criticism. That's important too.)

Trusting your story is when you chase it through a draft at lightning speed or respect the fact that it wants to take things slow and enjoy the scenery.

Trust is knowing that your story knows what it is doing even if you don't.

Which actually means that you do know what you're doing and you just don't know it because your story is a part of you.

Do you trust your story?

(Don't forget to send me a piece for this months Literary Idol)

Who is Robin Hood!

Who is Robin Hood? One of the books I’ve been researching for takes place in the late thirteenth century and has (theoretically because I can never say exactly where a book will go) quite a bit of Robin Hood in it, so this is a question I need to answer. I will not ask myself who WAS Robin Hood. Robin Hood WAS (if he even existed) some poor bloke who stole in order to survive. He might have been noble. He could have been driven to it by the injustice of feudalism. He may even have lived during the reign of Ceor de Lion. We’ll never know. Whoever that man was he has evolved into something so much bigger, so much vaguer and so much more true since his death. He has become a legend.

Legends evolve. They are retold so many times, collecting new details and shedding others that no one remembers where they came from or which of the details are fact.

I say fact, not truth. All legends are true in some way or another. Sometimes truer than fact. Legends are in many ways the personification of truths (oh yes, I’m very big into metaphysics. You’re just gonna have to get used to it). They tell us about their storytellers if nothing else. Studying the evolution of Robin Hood I have watched him go from bold but violent yeoman to disinherited nobleman to champion of the people to champion of the king. It all depends on who is telling the story.

Many things have become “Robin Hood” from mere repetition. One storyteller added in a detail and the others liked it and used it again. Listeners grew used to hearing it and it became part of the hero’s tradition. It has become a trend with recent authors get rid of these traditions in order to make the character seem more “real” or “fresh”. I do not like this trend.

The reason we are still telling stories about Robin Hood seven hundred years after his (possible) death is as difficult to pin-point as the man himself. Because he defied authority? Because he was noble at heart? Because he represents a kind of hope for the oppressed? Who knows? Perhaps simply because he can be so ambiguous. Nothing about him is set in stone and yet there are traditions that have become a part of his legend. We hear of a bugle horn sounded in Sherwood and know that he will be along soon. We see some greedy merchant from Nottingham set off down the road and know what his fate will be. True, it is predictable but it is part of the life of Robin Hood that he breathes on his own even without a story to place him in. Deliberately pulling away from these images seems to take some life out of the legend. When we retell his story we are not simply retelling one man’s story. We are retelling thousands of people’s stories as they told them from generation to generation.

So who is Robin Hood? I have no idea. He can’t be everything that legend calls him. A yeoman and a disinherited lord? A man who lived during the reign of King Edward (which ever one) and King Richard? He married the shepherdess Clorinda? He married the queen of the May games? He worked for the king of the fairies? He is loyal to the king? He leads a rebellion? I must choose which traditions work best for my story.

Does that mean I am doing the same thing as all those “modern authors” who so annoy me? Will the legend be shedding other people’s stories in order to make way for my own? Will he even be “Robin Hood” at all or just some new character with the same name? I guess the only question I can really ask is who Robin Hood is to me. I can hope some residue of the legend still clings to my version but I can’t tell everyone’s story.