Character Interview: Lorelin

Posted on May 30, 2013 by J.M. Ney-Grimm

Across a sennight, Lorelin Ingesdotter welcomed three interviewers to the stucco rowhouse that is her home in the capital city of the Empire of Giralliya.

A crier for the Bazinthiad Bulletin – writing a piece on the new clinics jointly funded by the Ministries of Incantors and Antiphoners – wanted to know all about Lorelin’s role in the research on troll-disease.

The imperial scribe proclaimed a similar interest, but in service to scholarship rather than news. “Emperador Zaiger exhorts me to record the details scrupulously,” he explained. “Our times present a cusp of history. Great events hinge upon the discoveries in the Old Armory under Gabris and Panos.”

The third questioner was the only one interested in Lorelin herself. She preferred his predecessors: her research under Gabris fascinates her, and she would happily describe it to a dozen inquirers. But she received the secretary to the Famille de la Royaume civilly, warming to his curiosity once she perceived his interest to be genuine.

His position as historian for the deposed ruling family of Pavelle obliged him to seek out and write down the fate of Prince Kellor. His passion for the history of the annexed principality was all his own. And he wanted more than the surface story. Who was Lorelin deep down? How had her essential nature brought her to chose an abdicated royal as her life companion?

Sipping ginger punch, while seated on a cushioned divan in Lorelin’s parlor, he conversed with her.

Secretary: What was your first reaction upon meeting Kellor Gide de la Royaume?

Lorelin: Goodness! I expected one of the Eransdotter sisters with a kettle of soup. When I opened our front door, I thought I was gripped by a fever dream, of course.

Secretary (puzzled, then his face clears): Ah! Milady, you mistake. I meant your introduction to the crown prince in your childhood, rather than the renewal of your acquaintance with him when you were both grown.

Lorelin (laughing): Of course. He was living in cognito then; I’d no notion of his rank and proper station. And he was the first friend to share my love of nature so thoroughly. We used to get so grubby, searching through the woods for fox spoor and gryphon prints. (renewed laughter) But Motter never complained when I returned home covered in mud. (thoughtful pause) Gide and I gazed out at the world together, and sometimes it seemed he saw through my eyes, so alike were our thoughts and feelings. (reminiscent smile) We grew close.

Secretary: Why did you bring your sister with you to the underground palace inhabited by Prince Kellor while he suffered under the curse?

Lorelin: I didn’t. Irisa invited herself, and I tried to talk her out of it. (pause for reflection) I’m glad she was stubborn.

Secretary: What were your dreams for yourself before you committed to lifting Prince Kellor’s curse? And how did they change as a result of your sojourn in the cavern palace?

Lorelin (lightly): Oh, I wanted to play flute in a quartet of musicians in Ringestad. (capital of Silmaren, Lorelin’s homeland) But I hadn’t the faintest notion of how to go about it. I learned so much in Kellor’s Lainkath. If things had gone differently, if I’d managed to stay the full year and a day, I’d have gained the confidence to try for that quartet. But I didn’t. And I learned that adding Kellor’s dreams to my own made life so much richer. I never dreamed I’d be here in Bazinthiad, and it’s fabulous.

Secretary: You are happy in your marriage?

Lorelin: (blushing, nods)

Secretary: How might you have felt if living with the Dowager Princess Mandine were required?

Lorelin (softly): I never met Mandine, only her sad remnant, eroded by years of illness.

Secretary: Were the principality of Pavelle to regain its independence, with its sovereign rule restored, would you urge Prince Kellor to resume his throne?

Lorelin (shocked): That’s treason you’re speaking. And Kellor no longer bears that title. (stern glance) But no. (firmly) Neither of us likes governance and politics. Ugh!

Secretary: Beg pardon, milady.

Lorelin (inclining her head): Very well. (pausing) I wish you wouldn’t call me that!

Secretary: It is your ladyship’s proper title.

Lorelin: But I’m used to Froiken Ingesdotter.

Secretary: Even in Silamren, you would be Dame Ingesdotter now.

Lorelin (acquiesing): True.

Secretary (uneasily): I have another difficult question, milady.

Lorelin: A treasonous question?

Secretary: No. Personal.

Lorelin (smile peeping): I don’t promise to answer.

Secretary: Were you . . . known (turning beet red) . . . by the prince before your marriage?

Lorelin: Oh! No wonder you worried about asking that one. I wouldn’t answer, except that the answer is no. Kellor was entirely a gentleman, despite slumbering in my bed.

Secretary: There were rumors that the curse required . . .

Lorelin (crisply): It didn’t. Although I gather Kellor worried about that when he was most muddled.

Secretary: No offense intended, milady.

Lorelin: None taken.

Secretary: In your own words, would you relate the whole story?

Lorelin: It will take some time. (she’d been expecting this)

Secretary: My time is yours to command.

Lorelin (smiling): Very well.

(Extended portion of dialog omitted. Grin! Surely you didn’t want me to inflict paragraphs of spoilers on you, when you haven’t yet read the book? Although I do apologize for skating perilously close to the secrets in Troll-magic with my transcription of this interview. And if you have read it . . . well, you know!)

fragment of book cover illustration for East of the Sun and West of the Moon Secretary: What is the one piece of advice you’d bestow on readers of this history?

Lorelin (thoughtfully): Dream big, and then do the next right thing, even if it’s very small. Sometimes the narrowest of openings is all that’s required for a gift of life to pass through. And even if you don’t arrive where you’ve aimed, your destiny may be even more marvelous. (eyes shining) Mine is.

For more about the world of Troll-magic, see:
Behind Troll-magic
Who’s Who in Troll-magic
Families in Troll-magic
Bazinthiad’s Fashions
Bazinthiad, A Quick Tour of the City
Magic in the North-lands
Magic in Silmaren
Radices and Arcs
Mandine’s Curse
The Suppressed Verses
The Accidental Herbalist
What Happened to Bazel?

Waterfall and Fairy Tale

Posted on May 23, 2013 by J.M. Ney-Grimm

Twenty-five years ago, a fairy tale saved … well, what did it save?

Lives?

Possibly. The danger was real.

Two little girls from their terror? Yes, definitely.

Me with the challenge of removing two children from risk as swiftly as possible without becoming a shrew? Indeed!

So how did this fairy tale salvation come to pass?

It all started at Crabtree Falls.

The falls form an amazing series of cascades down a precipitous mountainside in Virginia’s Blue Ridge. The sheerest curtain of water, a drop of 400 feet, occurs at the very top where the stream hits the brink. White water and smaller cascades spurt from a second fall below the first one’s landing pool and then gentle to become a bright race flowing downhill fast.

The hike to the top is quite a climb. Possessing numerous hairpin turns, the path is ladder-like in spots and very steep everywhere else.

A dear college friend of mine – we’ll call her Aliana, to protect her privacy – invited me to visit the falls along with Eillis and Beatice, the two young daughters of her fiancé. (More aliases. :D)

It was spring, and the woodlands displayed delicate beauty: trees leafed out in pale green, shy flowers tucked between remnant drifts of autumnal fallen foliage, and the lace of the tumbling stream sluicing toward the valley floor.

Eillis was only four and “Bea,” just eight, but they were experienced hikers, accustomed to long walks and vigorous exercise with their outdoorsman father. I heard none of “I’m tired” or “I want to go home now” or “Are we there yet?” No, the girls were enjoying the climb as much as Aliana and I were. Young, strong legs on all of us!

The top, after two hours of ascent, was glorious! The stream ran swiftly, but smoothly through sparsely spaced saplings and then out across a grassy open space to rocks. Next, the brink! And the plunge to the pool below. The view from the grassy glade showcased the ridge on the other side of the valley, a panorama that delighted my unexplored inner landscape painter. The vignette at the base of the falls was harder to appreciate. Access for the trail wasn’t possible (and leaving the trail, not safe), so we peered up past a secondary fall to glimpse the primary one. I think we hiked the path between the two vantage points several times to enjoy their differing magic!

It was hard to leave. We lingered at the brink, awed by its abruptness. As we deliberated pressing all the way up the gentle slope to the crest, a dark cloud boiled over the ridge.

Ah, yes. Traditional weather in the mountains of Virginia. Clear, blue, and sunny on one side of the ridge, pouring rain on the other.

This cloud wasn’t dropping rain, but it had an ominous look: pale gray on its edges, darkest gray, almost black, in the main mass, and an ugly yellow halo.

Aliana and I turned as one to retrace our steps, herding the girls with us. We made it past the base of the falls before the first raindrops arrived. We traversed two hairpin turns more before the first lightning strike flashed and crashed.

Eillis whimpered, and Aliana swept her up in a swift hug. But four years old is too big for carrying down a mountain. And Bea had stopped dead, white-eyed.

Another bolt of lightning stabbed down a short way off in the woods. We stood in danger of being struck. We needed to get down off that mountain! Fast!

“Have you ever heard the story of the twelve dancing princesses?” I asked.

Two heads shook from side to side. No, they hadn’t.

“It’s a good one! Would you like me to tell it while we walk?”

Two nods.

Eillis had relaxed enough that we could shift her around to piggyback. And Bea grabbed my hand when I offered it.

Then we ran. (I know. That carries risk too. Young ankles!)

Introducing the mystery of the twelve pairs of tattered dancing slippers got us another three hairpin turns downhill.

The youngest son seeking his fortune – meeting an old wisewoman with two magical seeds and good advice – took us to the third cascade in the rushing stream.

The fortune-seeking youth acquiring a spot as gardener on the castle grounds, using the magical bay laurel plants to garb himself as a prince, and then invisibly following the twelve princesses through enchanted forests of copper, silver, and gold ushered us to the rolicking brook on its gentler slope, along with the long-delayed downpour.

The lightning strikes stayed behind us on the upper slopes and we arrived at our vehicle safe, but soaking wet. A bedraggled blanket partially dried Eillis and Bea. Once the car engine warmed up, we cranked the heat on high.

The drive to the girls’ cabin took just the right amount of time. I told of the underground crystal palace and the ball there, then the two additional nights when the gardener boy followed the princesses to their secret revels.

As we turned into the cabin driveway, the rain stopped, and I was ready to intone the words: “They lived happily ever after!”

Our adventure was complete.

Have you ever been caught in a thunderstorm on a mountain or other exposed situation? How did you make it to safety? Any story telling involved?

* * *

Warning: If you ever hike Crabtree Falls yourself, please do not try to reach the vantage point shown in the first photo on this post. It’s lethally dangerous. “Forest Wander” (the photographer) was lucky. Many other intrepid hikers have not been. Twenty-eight people died – one just last month – when they left the trail and climbed too close to the falls. Don’t be a casualty!

For more memoir, see:
Writer’s Journey
Visitor’s Surprise

A Great Birthing

Posted on May 16, 2013 by J.M. Ney-Grimm

Mere glimpses of the spiritual beliefs held by the peoples of the North-lands appear in Troll-magic. Lorelin attends a dance in the chapel in her village. So we know the Silmarish have chapels. Kellor mentions Thiyaude when he curses! And Helaina prays to Teyo in her moment of extremity.

You might think that I cobbled together these references as I wrote my story. That’s a strategy that works for many writers. Called just-in-time creation, it even works for me – some of the time! More often, I do my world building first, creating the foundations and important details before I embark on storytelling. I thought you might enjoy reading my notes on North-lander myths, legends, and religion. We’ll start with their creation story.

golden yang of flower petals, blue yin of vine-strewn ocean

Consciousness Awakes and ElaboratesIt was dark. She could touch nothing around her, see nothing, hear nothing. For a moment she felt fear. Then she felt her strength. And rested her consciousness anchored within her strength. As she meditated on her strength and the nothingness in which she existed, she realized that she herself was not empty. She was strong and full of life and richness and love and beauty. She contemplated her bounty joyfully. And then she contemplated the nothingness joyfully. How beautifully paired were her fecundity and the emptiness of the nothingness. She meditated more on this trinity: herself, her bounty, and the emptiness. And as she contemplated her great birthing ahead, she knew it would take all of her strength and skill to accomplish. And maybe more. The first of her birthings must be a helper.

But there need be no hurry. Joy and wonder inspired her devotion. She would engage bliss.

Borne on the tide of her rapture, she flowed through her experience, tasting being and gathering readiness. And then she was ready.

She touched her strength and heaved. Let this be. Let this become. Let this come. Ah!

One small portion of her bounty had parted from her and become Other, wholly itself, beaming and lovely. Thee art wanderer, sweet child, the mother whispered. Named Falnon or Faran or Fallon.

The scent of petals that would become roses kissed the mother.

Happy laughter bloomed. I shall travel far and far, but first I shall attend you.

The daughter bent her own strength toward her mother’s advancing labor. Together they danced within the awe of being, and when the moment was ripe, they strove. Ah!

Another portion of the mother’s fullness reached autonomy and became the hand-maiden Nissa. Thee art grace and litheness and ease, my daughter. Welcome.

Movement, rather than sound, heralded Nissa’s entrance: the play of a fountain, the flow of a river, the surge of a sea. Wherever there is doing, there shall I be. Creation and intercourse and exertion be mine. How is it, Mother, that I came not first?

Each of thee is first with me. ‘Tis the mystery of mysteries. Be thee content.

And they were.

Strength and integrity came next, amidst sensations of pleasure. I am Bree, she announced herself.

Five more coalesced, each in her own characteristic way: a sense of buoyancy; a vast bounty, great as the mother’s own; generosity; the gavotte of intellect; and quiet wisdom.

Last of all came light, so brilliant it might have blinded, and yet they could see one another: fair sisters, each blessed with unique beauty.

Now, my children, now. The greater labor summons me. Let us begin.

And so the vast reaches of space and time came forth to be populated by firmness and fluidity and living creatures, each as separate and amazing as the hand-maidens. With intricacy and forethought, the world was born. With abandon and ecstasy, it emerged. With gratitude, it was celebrated.

All is well, Sias proclaimed.

Belief and Practice in SilmarenThe story above is the mythos of Silmaren. As recounted, Sias awakens and births her nine hand-maidens. They, in turn, support her as she creates the universe with all its wonders and wondrous denizens.

In Silmaren, worship focuses on helping one another the way the hand-maidens helped Sias, the great mother. Each month, for nine months, the rituals of a different handmaiden come to the forefront. Sermons emphasize her attributes. The three months of summer are sacred to Sias herself.

Regular services are held in small chapels. They consist of spoken prayer, sung prayer, songs of celebration, the ritual consumption of food, and rituals of light, fire, and water. There is a regular rest day each week.

In addition to the chapels, small shrines abound, each dedicated to a specific hand-maiden. Religious orders focus primarily on healing and scholarly knowledge.

FiorishThe beliefs of Silmaren adhere most closely to those of the original primitive tribes of the North-lands. Other cultures feature elaborations of this basic creation myth. The Fiorin people believe Sias birthed her daughter Ionan, the muse of wisdom, first. And that Ionan alone supported the mother in her great labor. Sias loves this daughter so much that she gave Ionan the universe to preside over and care for.

In Fiorish, small stone kirks house services to Ionan, and the lay sisters of Ionan are healers.

EriceIn Erice, it is Theon and Ionog, brother-sister twins, who are born first. They support Sias, preside over her creation, and care for it.

Temples or fanes are dedicated to twin worship. Trade guilds include a religious dimension and are regarded as religious bodies as much as institutions of production and commerce.

AuberonIn Auberon, Teyo the son, devoted to logic and language, arrives to mediate absolutely between the mother (origin) and her offspring (other). The matriarchal beliefs were transformed completely into patriarchal ways of understanding the world.

Two hundred years ago (in the timeline of Troll-magic), the saint and martyr Jaen Rougepied was born. Her witness re-introduced the importance of intuition and receptiveness to the population. Her life saw great upheaval and turmoil, and wrought great change.

In “modern” Auberon, Jaen Rougepied is regarded as Teyo’s vicar on earth. She was sent by Teyo to return the people of Auberon from the legalism into which they had strayed back toward a religion of relationship. They believe that Jaen sits at Teyo’s right hand, actively relating mortal to deity and deity to mortal.

Monasteries, hospitals, and churches proclaim the glory of Teyo and his hand-maiden Jaen Rougepied. Big cities feature cathedrals.

PavelleTeyo goes by the name Thiyaude in Pavelle. The Pavanese never fell into the legalism that beset the Auberese, and though they revere Jaen Rougepied, they do not worship her. Their religious rituals feature much grandeur, including rich feasts, expensive perfumes, and elaborate chants.

Pavelle’s religious institutions include chapels, churches, guilds, and cathedrals.

Giralliya

In the Empire of Giralliya, they say the narratives beloved by the cultures of their neighbors are metaphorically correct, but that the most enlightened belivers prefer a less personified account.

The First Principle, that of Change, is always a triad composed of Fullness, Emptiness, and Creator or Doer. The Second Principle, that of Stability, is a quadrine composed of Fullness, Emptiness, Creator, and Perceiver.

Giralliyans remark that there are undoubtably religious peoples somewhere in the world who personify Emptiness, although the believers of the North-lands avoid this.

Antiphoners, trained in both religion and magic, live and practice in retreat centers. The local populace regularly visits these centers for meditation instruction, personal support, and practice of the posture sequences that are part of Giralliyan worship and pursuit of health.

For more about North-lander lore, see:
Silmarish Magic
North-lands Magic
Blood Falchion

Blossom

Posted on May 9, 2013 by J.M. Ney-Grimm

The cherry tree under snowfall graced my front garden in early March.

A mere month later, petals of pale pink flocked its branches.

The beauty of nature holds such an easy, soothing, fractal loveliness. It seems almost cheating to share it with you. In all likelihood, you encounter such beauty right outside your own front door. I hope you do! But isn’t it glorious to share visions and wonder with one another?

In that spirit, I give you … boughs of the cherry tree under blossom.

photo of cherry blossom boughs against blue sky

For more photos:
Wild Garden
Loveliness

The Bastard, Belinda, Blood, & Bewitchery

Posted on May 2, 2013 by J.M. Ney-Grimm

It’s time for more book recommendations. Here are four!

Painting of Ista saving souls Ista, mother of Chalion’s ruling royina, lives retired in Castle Valenda under the care of her anxious kinswoman and ladies in waiting. Considered a madwoman for years, and still a little … unbalanced, from her long ordeal, she endures the loving vigilance of her caretakers. A vigilance that only wearies and annoys her. But how to escape their loving restrictions, her culture’s limiting constraints, and the bitterness of her past baffles Ista. Until by chance she encounters a vulgar widow on pilgrimmage, and inspiration strikes.

I can’t decide whether I love Paladin of Souls or its prequel The Curse of Chalion more, but they both vie for the spot of most favorite read ever. In the classic choice of one book and a desert island, Paladin would be it. Unless it were Curse! Two books? No problem: both these!

Ista has spent nearly twenty years submerged in a prolonged eclipse. Now she stands poised for rebirth, ready even to shine. Reading her journey is sheer magic for the heart and soul.

Paladin of Souls at Amazon

Paladin of Souls at B&N

White gowned Regency lady on a balcony Gilly – that is, the Most Noble Adolphus Gillespie Vernon Ware, the Duke of Sale – hates disappointing those who care for his interests. His devoted valet chooses his raiment, and Gilly acquiesces to all his selections. His estate agent informs him that his progressive notions are naive, and Gilly swallows the reproof. His garulous companion from his Grand Tour through Europe threatens to render his visit to London hideous, and Gilly shows him courtesy. But when his solicitous and autocratic guardian, Lord Lionel, announces that he’s arranged Gilly’s marriage, the duke decides he’s carried his amiability too far.

Gilly eludes his entire retinue to pursue adventure: a solo quest to save his young cousin from a villain bent on blackmail. Or, as Gilly tells his other cousin, his favorite one: “to slay a dragon.” But Mr. Liversedge is a canny scoundrel, well able to defeat his inexperienced adversary. Can Gilly – so amenable and civil – possibly prevail?

Like all of Heyer’s Regency romances, this one cavorts from absurdity to absurdity, improbably so, yet curiously plausible and thoroughly delightful. Her characters are so real they make the proverbial leap from the page, and her world-building, so superb, I wander Regency England while I read.

The Foundling at Amazon

The Foundling at B&N

Dark and ominous view of a candlelit candelabra She never even heard them coming. But you don’t, Rae Seddon tells us. Fed up with her family, fed up with the coffeehouse – the family business, fed up with just everything, this young baker who loves feeding people drives out into the country by night to meditate at the lake. There, those darkest of the Others – the bloodsuckers – capture her to feed to a special undead prisoner: Constantine, a master vampire hated by their own master, Bo.

But Rae possesses an unusual lineage and unusual powers deriving from her hitherto-ignored legacy, and something strange happens in the derelict mansion where the vampires stake her as bait for Con.

I must make a confession: I don’t like straight-up romances. It’s not that I don’t enjoy the dance that ensues when boy meets girl. I simply need something more for the story to enthrall me. Add humor and stellar world-building, like Heyer, and I’m enchanted. Add mystery and deep emotional insight, like Sayers, and I’m engrossed. Add military adventure and intense inner journey, like Bujold, and you cannot pry me away.

So, how does this relate to McKinley’s Sunshine?

Well, it occurred to me as I wrote the above synopsis that the plot appears to follow the formula for paranormal romance: young woman with special powers that she doesn’t know about, must discover, and then master; undead or otherwise powerful and threatening counterpoint; and the unique path these two must tread to relate to one another fruitfully. So why do I like Sunshine? That formula proved insufficient for my taste when I attempted it previously. The answer: exquisite world-building paired with saving said world from utter destruction. The book riveted me to its pages. So much so that I’ve re-read it three times and will undoubtedly repeat the experience many times through the years.

Sunshine at Amazon

Sunshine at B&N

Painting of a tall, bizarre, rickety tower Twelve-year-old Conrad Tesdinic knows he’ll die in agony before the year is up. It’s his fate. In a previous life he either did something bad that he shouldn’t, or failed to do something good that he should have. And no one knows what it was. But his Uncle Alfred pulls strings to get him a job as footman in Stallery Mansion where he can clear his karma.

Conrad would much prefer to continue his schooling, to aim for university, to become someone brilliant: an aircraft pilot, a famous scientist, a great surgeon, anything other than staying in Stallchester drudging in his uncle’s bookstore, polishing boots at the mansion, or cooking meals for his mother and uncle. But karma calls, along with the clever wickedness lurking in Stallery.

So Conrad goes, but his new employment proves utterly different than he’d imagined. Secrets upon secrets lie piled in the mansion, and Conrad must unravel them all, including a few that connect right into the heart of his own family.

I love all of Jones’ stories, but my favorite was always Charmed Life, the first tale by her I ever read. No matter how much I enjoyed the rest of her stories, I never suspected another might knock Life from its preeminence. Until I read Conrad’s Fate. I can’t say it truly tipped Charmed Life from its throne, but surely it shares the seat. Sparkling, funny, and poignant by turns, its wheels within wheels entertained and astonished me through to the very end, when all the mysteries lay revealed, and everyone’s karma, balanced!

Conrad’s Fate at Amazon

Conrad’s Fate at B&N

For more book recommendations, see:
Gods & Guilt, Scandals & Skeptics
Courtship and Conspiracy, Mayhem and Magic
Mistakes, Missteps, Shady Dealing, & Synchronicity
Duplicity, Diplomacy, Secrets & Ciphers
Beauty, Charm, Cyril & Montmorency