Popcorn Kittens

I have a bad case of popcorn kittens.

What, you may ask, are popcorn kittens?

photo of surprised kittenWell…here’s the amusing origin of the concept. Go ahead, click the link. It’s just a 3 minute video on YouTube, and it’s fun!

And here’s the more serious explanation of of the term. (Warning: Kristine Kathryn Rusch’s blog can become a serous addiction, if you’re interested in the massive upheaval transpiring in the publishing industry these days!)

Short version of that “serious” essay: an abrupt change from scarcity to abundance produces the impetus to action on a gazillion different projects at once.

So why do I have popcorn kittens?

I have too many stories I’m longing to write, and each story is calling me to write it right now.

I’m hoping to get some feedback from my readers about which projects interest them the most. If you could choose from a list of 20 stories, each of which sings to this writer like a Greek siren, which one would you chose to go to the head of the work-in-progress queue?

I’ve already written the opening for a number of these stories. So I’m thinking I might share the openings with you over the next few weeks. And when you see one you like, you can yell: “Write this one! This one!”

And just to get things off to a good start, I’ll list the entire roster, each entry with a few explanatory remarks.

Deep breath! Here we go!

Three for 2013

The Dragon’s Egg: Livli’s brother Jorgan learns his calling in life when a troll, a dragon’s egg, and a Tromme-land shaman intersect. Hammarleeding fans will like this one.

Imsterfeldt: During Sarvet’s wanderyar, she has an adventure in Imsterfeldt involving a ghost and the ruined mooring tower for an airship. Sarvet’s fans will like this.

Inula’s Trumpet: Hans (from Troll-magic) finds adventure in the forests of Cambers involving a golden fauve, a troll, and lethal deceptions.

Science Fiction

Dragon’s Tooth: The Zero Stone by Andre Norton meets The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis.

Metamorphosis Buffet: Steven has lost everything and schemes to claw his way up from the bottom. While working on his own problems, he encounters something so bizarre, he must investigate and is drawn into a threat of a much larger magnitude.

(The opening for Metamorphosis Buffet appears in an earlier post all about writer tips for writing strong openings. Metamorphosis Buffet is the third and last example, all the way at the bottom of the page. 😉 )

Fox in the Hen Coop: A cybernetic “hen house” guards the planet Lapis V from space toxins that spiral down to poison its biosphere. Something has gone wrong with one of MRY97’s (Mary’s) microchips.

Read-Only Beauty: The Sleeping Beauty meets Independence Day. (My short story of the same name – completed recently – would become a prologue to this novel.)

Mythic Novels

Witch’s Sweet: Demons threaten Callie’s family, and she defends them with her witchcraft and with…baking, of all things.

The Theft of Odin’s Horse: Loki’s latest prank threatens all 9 worlds anchored to Yggrasil’s mighty branches. How will his aunt save them all?

The Green Knight: Neptune enjoys the ministrations of a harem of 50 nymphs. One of them wants to escape. Can she?

The Golden Ka: Ancient Egypt meets Hexwood by Diana Wynne Jones.

New Short Story Ideas

Tally the Betrayals: Three loyalties tear Gael in three directions. Will he protect innocent humans? Will he support his fellow trolls? Or will he obey his heinous master?

Troll-witch’s Promise: Livli’s son, Rede, encounters a troll-witch with disastrous results.

Fate’s Door: A handmaiden to the three Norse norns, the Fates, sees her forbidden lover threatened. Dare she work against fate itself to save him? And if she dares, how can she succeed?

Doorstopper Novels

Steal from the Sea: Livli’s brother Jorgan has grown up, but seeks a second wanderyar – partially on his own account, partially to seek a nephew who’s been gone too long.

Ruin the Earth: A re-telling of the Norse “Widow’s Son.” Gabris and Emoirie from Troll-magic travel from Bazinthiad to get involved.

Break the Sky: A re-telling of my own Gethaena (a role playing game) in novel form. Demons, a prison, and transformation.

The Soldier’s Daughter: Our heroine must rescue three princesses of Elamerony (the land of the southern emissaries in Troll-magic) from the demons in Break the Sky.

Eclipse the Sun: A re-telling of the Norse “The Lassie and her Godmother.”

The Dawn Trilogy: The lodestones of ancient Navarys fell into dangerous hands. Three heroes, each with something to learn, play a part in the recovery of these powerful artifacts.

And there you have it, the ideas luring me. It’s hard to decide! 😀

(First story opening coming next week!)

* * *

Update: It’s 8 months later, and I’ve posted quite a few of the openings for the stories mentioned here. In the list above, I’ve linked each title that has one to its posted opening.

In the time between July 2013 and March 2014, I’ve also posted a few openings not included above. 😉 Here’s a list of all the openings – popcorn kittens of all vintages, new and old:

Fate’s Door
Dragon’s Tooth
Witch’s Sweet
Dream Trap
Tally the Betrayals
The Green Knight
Fox in the Hen Coop
Read-Only Beauty
Last Tide
The Theft of Odin’s Horse
Metamorphosis Buffet (last opening in the post “The First Lines”)
The Player King

 

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What Happened to Bazel?

I met Bazel – while writing a work of fiction – decades before I wrote Troll-magic.

His appearance was beyond brief. Depicted in a stained glass window, he knelt with his sisters and brother before a tombstone, their heads bowed in grief. The graveyard was green and bowery. The light was golden, yet sad. Who were these children? Why had their mother died?

I couldn’t answer my questions then. The stained glass window was mere décor, window dressing indeed. 😉 But I wondered.

And my wondering eventually bore fruit, when Bazel burst on the scene in Troll-magic. We meet him there playing a game the Aubronese call hide-and-bide. He’s relieved to be outdoors after a week indoors, but he’s also cranky. Here’s a snippet of the scene:

watercolor painting of child reading in a window seat“Forty eight, forty nine, fifty! Lurk and bide, sneak and hide, be ready and steady, for now I ride!” Bazel opened his eyes, spun away from the pilaster next to the windowed doors, tore across the terrace, and took its shallow steps in one leap. The sodden ground, after a week of rain, gave under his buttoned half-boots, but no water splashed up. Today’s clear sun and high, windblown skies had dried all the puddles. He drew in a long breath of the late autumn air, scented with decaying leaves, and flung his arms wide as he ran. To be outdoors at last, after all those long afternoons of skittles, backgammon, and charades in the play room, was delicious.

He had grown so tired of staying indoors. Quiet activity didn’t screen out the anger and grief. The longing for Mama. The wishing Papa would come home. Tryne had finally sanctioned leap frog in the halls and even bannister sliding races on the stairs. Bazel grinned. Tryne more usually harped on not using “outside voices” or doing “outside activities” when he and his siblings grew too boisterous inside. And then sent them out. It was a different experience to watch her promoting energetic pursuits indoors.

Yet racing and jumping in the garden was better. Bazel tipped his head back . . .

* * *

I was delighted to encounter Bazel, thrilled that I would learn his story at long last. Yet Bazel proved to generate the character arc that required the most revision of all in Troll-magic.

(If you prefer not to watch the sausage being made, you might want to stop reading this blog post here. I’m going to dive into my story recipe with a vengeance! :D)

watercolor illustration of child climbing a treeSo, what happened to Bazel?

I introduce him during the children’s game, and we learn that he and his siblings lost their mother several months ago, and that their father is strangely absent. Next Bazel encounters what seems to be his father’s ghost. What’s going on here? Bazel doesn’t know, but he solicits the advice of his sister. Together they decide to approach their mother’s old teacher for help. We – reader and author – follow the children to the herbalist’s cottage on the moor and learn a bit more about the situation. Since we’ve already learned some about the curse from the scenes with Kellor and Helaina, we know more than Bazel does.

From that point, Troll-magic focuses on the adventures of Helaina, Lorelin, Kellor, and Gabris.

And that’s where I went astray. We do see Bazel confronting his deepest fear, but his next appearance is when he arrives at the enchanted palace in the north, on the verge of solving his problem.

My first reader caught the issue immediately. “Isn’t there more? I think it needs to be harder,” she said. And she was right. It’s not easy for a 10-year-old child, protected and cherished, to run away from home to rescue his father. So Bazel had already surmounted a difficult obstacle. And choosing to face his most horror-struck fear provides another real challenge for him. But not only did there need to be more, there was more. I could sense it, just below the edge of my awareness.

When I sat down to write the revisions, the scenes required no brainstorming. They were right there, waiting only for my attention and intention to write. Indeed, I hardly did write them. They wrote me. In all, I made four additions: Bazel on the boat crossing the Merivessic Sea (and remembering a second encounter in the spectral corridor where he met his father’s ghost); Bazel in the city of Andhamn (close to the enchanted palace); an extra paragraph to Bazel in the garden of the enchanted palace; and one last challenge inside the palace itself while walking toward his happily-ever-after.

The revision was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my writing life! If only all writing were like that!

Here’s a snippet from one of the revision scenes:

But he couldn’t catch up. Not really. Sometimes Bazel drew nearer, but he never got within touching distance. And, inevitably, the ghost would lengthen its lead, sometimes disappearing from sight altogether.

During one of these stretches when Papa was nowhere to be seen, Bazel remembered the other presence he’d encountered in this sorcerous corridor: something rotten, corpse-like, hungry. Oh, Teyo! It was there behind him now. This time it was more than a damp, chill aura overtaking him. He heard something: the whisper of a cobweb gown brushing the spectral floor, the deadened footfall of a heel wrapped in grave cloths. He sprinted, chasing Papa – there he was! – fleeing his pursuer.

watercolor painting of child walking in a candlelit hallwayThe race seemed to go on forever. He began to feel that he was standing still, despite his pumping legs, while the hallway moved under his feet. Like poor Hammie in the running wheel Tryne had placed in the guinea pig’s cage. Recalling his buried pet’s skeleton, cloaked in rotting flesh, he recalled his fears about digging Mama out of her sepulcher. Would she be like that? Putrescent skin sliding away from yellowed, brittle bones? She hadn’t, but – oh! no! He almost wailed aloud. That was the horror behind him, hunting him.

He tripped in his terror, going down hard on his knees, then scrambling up in desperate haste.

* * *

And now you know what happened to Bazel, both off the page and on it. Unless you haven’t yet read Troll-magic! In which case . . . you know what to do! 😀

Troll-magic as an ebook:
Amazon I B&N I Diesel I iTunes I Kobo I Smashwords I Sony

Troll-magic as a trade paperback:
from
Amazon or ordered from your local bookstore:
ISBN-10: 0615702546
ISBN-13: 978-0615702544

For more about Bazel’s world, the North-lands, see:
Bazinthiad, a Quick Tour
Landscapes of Auberon
Mandine’s Curse
Legend of the Beggar’s Son

 

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Lacto-fermented Corn

corn earsThe first corn of summer arrived in my kitchen last week.

Half of it I simply cooked and served, slathered in butter, to my family. The other half I made into corn relish.

I promised last August that I’d share the corn relish recipe with you when corn was in season again. Time to make good on my promise!

Corn relish is a lacto-fermented food. The same lacto-bacilli that turn milk into yogurt also turn corn and a few other vegetables into corn relish.

photo of corn, tomato, onion melange in canning jarThere are several benefits to this.

For me personally, it means I can eat corn! Cooked in any ordinary way, corn makes me really ill. Lacto-fermented corn bothers my system not in the least.

Of course, most people can eat corn without my difficulty, but lacto-fermented corn offers everyone the great benefits of any lacto-fermented food.

The process of lacto-fermentation creates valuable enzymes which add to the health of the entire gastro-intestinal tract. We digest our food more thoroughly and easily, and receive more of its nutrition, when we eat enzymes.

Lacto-fermentation also creates pro-biotics. You know how your doctor recommends eating yogurt after a course of anti-biotics? Well, eating lacto-fermented vegetables does the same thing, repopulating the intestine with the beneficial bacteria that must be present in order for humans to be healthy!

And lacto-fermentation makes the vitamins and minerals in our foods more bio-available, so that our bodies absorb more of these vital substances, instead of letting them merely pass through and out.

a book of foods from traditional peoples from around the worldI learned about lacto-fermantation in Sally Fallon’s book, Nourishing Traditions. It’s an incredible treasury of the old food ways, and I encourage you to check it out for yourself! One caution: whenever you eat foods new to you, it’s wise to go slow. Your body isn’t used to the new substance. Eat just a spoonful or two and wait. Everyone’s body is a little different. Check to make sure yours is okay with something new before you eat a large serving!

For more information about lacto-fermented foods, check here and here.

And now, without more ado, here’s the recipe. (P.S. It’s delicious!)

Corn Relish

3 large ears of fresh organic corn
1 small onion (or a quarter of a large one)
3 tomatoes or 3 peaches
2 tablespoons fresh cilantro leaves (optional)
1 tablespoon Celtic sea salt
4 tablespoons whey

It’s important to use organic vegetables, because pesticide residues on conventional produce can halt the process of lacto-fermentation.

Also, do not use ordinary table salt. The anti-caking chemicals in it can likewise interfere with lacto-fermentation.

I obtain whey by allowing raw milk (from my herd share in a local dairy farm) to become old-fashioned curds and whey! But you can get it from draining the liquid – whey – from any yogurt with active cultures.

Last summer I made corn relish with tomatoes. It tasted marvelous. Last week, I had no tomatoes on hand, and I substituted peaches for them. This corn relish tastes very similar. The lacto-fermented corn and onions are somewhat spicy and dominant. If you have neither tomatoes nor peaches on hand, I encourage you to experiment. I suspect other substitutions might work equally well.

The first step is shucking the corn of its husks and rinsing the threads that cling to the corn away under running water. You may notice that the very tip of the corn is slightly brown. This is a good thing! It’s a bonafide that the corn really is organic. The browning is from a type of pest that loves corn, but is kept away by pesticides. Just cut the brown tip off and discard it.

Next, cut the corn kernels from the cob into a large bowl.

Wash the peaches, remove their pits, and dice the flesh. Add to the mix. (Or peel the tomatoes, dice them, and add them to the mix. The best way to peel tomatoes: immerse them in boiling water for 60 seconds, then in cold water. The skins will slip right off.)

Dice the onion very fine. Add to mixture.

corn relish in the makingPluck the cilantro leaves from their stems, if you are using cilantro, and add.

Add sea salt and whey. Stir the mixture with a spoon. Then pound it lightly with a wooden mallet or a meat pounder.

Spoon the mixture into a 1-quart canning jar. (Be sure you have put the jar and its lid through the hottest cycle of your dishwasher, or else fill the jar with boiling water and let it sit for 5 minutes before pouring it out. And immerse the lid in boiling water as well. You want the lacto-bacilli to grow, not any pathogenic bacteria!)

Leave at least 1 inch of headroom between the top of the corn mixture and the lip of the jar. Pres the mixture down firmly, so that the whey and the vegetable juices cover the corn mixture. If there is not enough liquid for this, add a little filtered water or more whey. Screw the lid on to finger tight.

serving of corn relishLet the jar sit on your counter at room temperature for 3 days. This is when it lacto-ferments. After 3 days, refrigerate the corn relish. It is ready to eat now and will keep in the refrigerator for many months.

More recipes:
Sauerkraut
Coconut Salmon
Baked Carrots
Baked Apples

More on nutrition:
Test first, then conclude!
Why Seed Oils Are Dangerous
Butter and Cream and Coconut, Oh My!

 

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Color Is the New Black

The interior walls of my home are white. By choice.

Too many of the clothes in my wardrobe are black & white. With touches of blue. Again: my choice.

I love black & white photos. I adore black & white line art.

Is there something a little off with me? What is this black & white fetish?

I’m guessing you can see where this is going! When it came time to design my book covers, I chose the ravishingly beautiful black & white illustrations by Kay Nielsen for the art. Unfortunately for me, not everyone shares my predilection for black & white. More specifically, readers often prefer images with more color.

“The art is so dark!” says one. “Almost dingy.”

“I couldn’t tell what it was, really,” says another. “It’s incomprehensible!”

“But your stories are so vivid, and your landscapes so stunning. The black & white covers don’t do justice to either.”

They made excellent points. Enough so, that I opened up Photoshop for another try at the cover for Troll-magic.

Two covers for Troll-magic

What do you think?

I continue to be entranced by the black & white one, but I like the colorful one (art by Victor Candell) as well. Yet I remain on the fence. B&W? Color? B&W? Color?

I’ve uploaded the colorful one to Amazon to appear as the cover for the ebook. Changing the print edition would be a much larger project, so it remains black & white (with a touch of gold) for now. I’m curious to see what will happen. Will more readers decide Troll-magic is for them? Fewer? The same number? I’ll let you know some time in August. Grin!

In the meantime, I’m very interested in your opinion. Please leave your vote in the comments!

Update: Thank you so much to each of you who shared in the comments. I have a better understanding of how my covers strike readers, because of you! “What was my decision?” you wonder. Black & white. It is unique. I’ll stand out in a crowd. 😀

For more about my book covers:
Cover Creation: Perilous Chance
Building Star-drake’s Cover
Creating Livli’s Cover

For more about how to design book covers:
Cover Design Primer

 

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Choosing a Tagline Font

Sarvet's WanderyarThe print edition for Sarvet’s Wanderyar was so close to release. Just one more proof cycle, click the “approve” button, and there she was – on the bookstore shelf, ready for readers to enjoy!

But!

You knew there was a “but,” didn’t you? After all, as I write this post, the print edition of Sarvet’s Wanderyar is definitively not on any bookshelves. What happened?

I learned a bit of history, which I’m going to share with you!

In the 1800’s and on into the early 1900’s, many authors self-published, including greats – such as Mark Twain – who gave us our classics. Then times changed and for decades self-publishing was not a viable option. In 2009, with the advent of Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing program, indie publishing became viable again. Writers with a pioneering spirit jumped in. Many of them wrote fantasy, and all of them were creating their own covers, whether they had design expertise or not.

Right now, in 2013, there are plenty of graphic designers available to create covers for e-books. In 2009? Not so much. So the indies gave it their best shot, producing covers that were glorious by accident, mediocre by default, or (alas) atrocious. Writers write. But only a few of them wrestle Photoshop and win!

Most of the writers used the fonts that came on their computers, and the fantasy authors were no different. What was there among those scant 200 typefaces that would work well for titles? Quite a few sans serif fonts for thrillers, a scattering of script fonts for romances, and many traditional fonts for mainstream fiction. For the fantasy novels? Matura.

So Matura showed up again and again and again on fantasy covers. Matura used well. Matura used poorly. Matura, Matura, Matura. Writers making covers and readers buying e-books grew sick of it!

I entered the indie pub world late in 2011. Indies had moved on from their early efforts. Some hired designers for their covers, others upgraded their skills. Nobody limited themselves to the fonts that came with their computer. There were a million and one fonts available online for a modest price. Result: nobody used Matura anymore! In fact, Matura wasn’t even listed among the fonts on my own computer.

I knew right away that I wanted to use Palatino for my titles. It’s a traditional font with an extra share of grace, featuring elongated ascenders and descenders (the lines rising from b’s and d’s, or heading down from g’s and q’s) and delicate curves. That grace seems to express the essence of my North-lands, but is easier to read than a decorative “fantasy” font. It also enlarges well to the size necessary for titles. So: Palatino. Yes.

At first I intended to use Palatino for my taglines as well as my titles. Fortunately I took a workshop! It taught me that a) taglines need not be visible in thumbnail-sized images (my first covers had them too big); and b) using only one font on a cover is sedate. Did I want my stories to be perceived as sedate. No!

Time to do a font search.

First, let’s review the rules for choosing fonts.

1) Do use two different fonts.

Check. I was using Palatino for the title and the author byline. I was seeking a different font to use on the taglines – one above the title, one below the author byline.

2) Never use more than one font from any one category of fonts.

Right. Palatino is an old style serif font. My second font would ideally be a sans serif font, a script font, or a decorative font. If I chose a decorative font, it should be a simple one, not ornate. Modern fonts and slab serif fonts don’t go very well with the fantasy feel of my stories. (For a review of the six font categories see my Cover Copy Primer.)

3) Use fonts that are very different in their characteristics, that contrast with one another.

Palatino has a very calm, vertical, linear feel to it. A contrasting font should be curvier, perhaps possess more horizontal energy, and have more variation between its thickest and thinnest strokes. Let’s see what I found.

I searched and I searched and I searched. The right font was not jumping out at me. At last, I chose … Matura! Knowing nothing of its 2009 history, I took joy in my find. (Dear me!)

Last fall, I learned that some people hate Matura. Hmm. Should I change it? Maybe. I was still on the fence when I learned the full story this spring. Should I change it? Probably. So I went looking again.

Before I show you what I found, here’s the top portion of Sarvet’s Wanderyar with the Matura font appearing both in the word “Wanderyar” and in the tagline “Running away leads straight back home – or does it?”

Matura tagline

It still looks good to me. But let’s follow my search and see what some of the other possibilities look like.

I liked Matura for the boldness of its line. It’s easier to read than more spidery decorative fonts. And it contrasts nicely with the delicacy of Palatino. It is sans serif, while Palatino is a serif font. The points at the ends at each stroke contrast with the strict horizontal nature of Palatino’s serifs. Bottom line: it’s got a lot going for it.

Seeking Matura’s replacement, I looked at calligraphy fonts, Celtic fonts, Gothic fonts, Old English fonts, and sans serif fonts. Nothing really grabbed me, but I saw some possibilities. In fact, I saw thirty-plus possibilities. I downloaded them all! And started trying them in Word. Hmm. In Word, none of them won my regard when they went head-to-head with Matura. So I chose the best of the lot and tried them in Photoshop, with a full cover treatment.

Here’s the font Paladin.

Paladin font

It’s got a calligraphy style to it, much like Matura. Its curves contrast nicely with Palatino. But Paladin is much harder to read than Matura. And the extreme variation in its line weight – from broad and thick to spidery thin – is not to my taste. Let’s look at something else!

Here’s Mysticor.

Mysticor font

Much better! But it’s a little too curvy. Kind of like the curly writing of young girls who dot their i’s with hearts. Yikes! In the d and the y, even the straight strokes are curved. Plus Mysticor’s line weight is too close to that of Palatino. So … no.

Next!

Here’s Devinne.

Devinne font

Now, I like Devinne. I’d considered it during my first search for a tagline font. I voted against it, because it was less legible than Matura. But what about it? Maybe I should reconsider.

Devinne has a nice blend of thick and thin, as well as a balanced movement between straight and curved. In fact, it’s almost perfect in its contrast with the Palatino. Except for one thing. I’d not considered Devinne a serif font. Mostly, it isn’t. But look at that W and that n and that r. Serifs. One of the rules of font selection is that you don’t place two different serif fonts together on a cover. Can you break the rule? In a heartbeat, if it works. But it doesn’t work here. The serifs, especially on that W, fight for dominance with the serifs on the Palatino Sarvet. Plus … Devinne is so dang hard to read. So, no.

Here’s something simpler, a sans serif named Fondamento.

Fondamento font

Pleasing, but really just a slightly straighter version of Mysticor above. Let’s move on!

What about Black Chancery?

I like it. I like it a lot. And I almost chose it for my tagline font. Except I hate the exaggerated tails on the d and the y. The serifs on the W clash with the Palatino serifs on Sarvet. The W does not cradle the S the way the Matura W does. And the font as a whole is less legible.

Black Chancery font

The five fonts I’ve shown you here were the best of the lot. All the other twenty-plus were less successful variants on these final contenders (the way Mysticor and Fondamento are variants of one another).

So, what am I doing? I’m keeping Matura.

This is my thinking:

Sarvet's WanderyarI’m writing to please my readers. Some of my readers will be indies who published their own books in 2009. But that’s a pretty select crew! The vast majority of my readers never cracked an e-book until much later. Most of my readers never suffered through the overuse and abuse of Matura. To most of my readers, the Matura in my taglines will look as fresh and appealing as it does to me.

Will I always stick with Matura? That’s a whole ‘nother question. Every publisher updates her covers as the years pass. Culture changes, and images that seemed appropriate and attractive in one decade look dated and awkward in the next. So my covers will change. But not this month!

Time to push that last revision cycle on Sarvet’s Wanderyar along and release the print edition!

Update: Sarvet’s Wanderyar is now in print! See the announcement here.

For more about book covers:
Cover Design Primer, the fundamentals of cover design.
Cover Makeovers, a series of before’s and after’s.
Perilous Chance, Star-drake, and Livli’s Gift, the design process in action.

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Tree Rocket

A tall oak grows in my neighbor’s yard up the street. It’s so tall, tall as a Gemini rocket, maybe. And its branches spray out like fireworks. This spring, the new leaves on it glowed a fiery green. The oak just stood there, the way trees do. But it burned. And I … felt fizzy delight in its beauty. I craned my neck back, looking up, farther up. And there at the top, three contrails burst from its crown, curving streaks of white jetting across blue, as though the oak’s energy claimed all heaven. This was Iggdrasil, the Tree of the World, planted in my neighbor’s yard.

photo of might oak against the sky

For more photos:
Blossom
Loveliness

For a sample of the story inspired by this oak . . . coming soon!

 

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The Accidental Herbalist

Illustration by Jessie Willcox SmithThat title refers to me, not Helaina, the character in my novel, Troll-magic. It happened three winters ago, when my children were coughing up a storm. We’d all caught colds, and theirs turned to bronchitis. Oh, but they were miserable. I suppose I should have taken them to the doctor, but they’d been ill only a few days. It was too early for antibiotics. So my husband and I tried the usual things: sitting them in a steamy bathroom, offering mugs of warmed milk, holding them and patting their backs, and pushing gallons of over-the-counter cough medicine. (Well, not gallons, but you know what I mean.)

Then I read an article in the health newsletter we subscribe to. Research had definitively proven cough medicine to be completely ineffective. Well, I wasn’t surprised. It was doing nothing for my young twins! But, now what? The answer, surprisingly, came from Troll-magic.

In Troll-magic, Helaina nish Bayaude is a noblewoman of Auberon. She’s also an apprentice herbalist. She studies under a wisewoman who lives in a cottage on the moors near Helaina’s home.

The reader meets Helaina shortly after a curse transforms her into a ghost and whisks her away to an enchanted palace. Magical obssession forces her to work as a chambermaid, dusting and scrubbing floors and straightening knickknacks.

Bewildered and overwhelmed, she surrenders to the demands of her situation until a north-bear staggers through the front door, wild and raging. Fear impels Helaina to stop acquiescing and to start controlling her own fate. She doesn’t have a lot of choices, but she does remember the plant lore she’s been laboring to acquire. She decides to concoct an herbal remedy for her ghostly affliction.

Her knowledge (plus my own lack of same) and her decision meant that I had some research to do. I’m no herbalist, but I had sense enough to know that “winging” this wouldn’t produce the result I wanted. I took myself to the library and checked out The Complete Medicinal Herbal, The Herbal Medicine Cabinet, Magic and Medicine of Plants, and Aromatherapy: The Complete Guide.

One of these titles featured beautiful color spreads with photographs of each ingredient (both on the plant and prepared as a powder) plus the final salve or tincture made from the plant. All the books described the symptoms alleviated by each plant part and which systems of the body received benefit from it.

Since these were western herbals, and Troll-magic‘s system of magic is inspired by eastern ideas, I didn’t find the one-to-one correspondence I was naively hoping for. But continued probing uncovered patterns of calm and soothing versus energizing. I began to see how I might map the effects of the remedies onto the radices that control energy flow within the bodies of my North-land denizens.

Eventually I created two lists: one of herbs likely to help Helaina with her accursed plight, the other, those that would worsen it.

I think most of the ingredients in Helaina’s final and successful remedy are mentioned in my novel. But I’ll share them here.

For the crown radix: Engadien pennywort, magwort, melissa

photo by ParvinBrow radix: elecampane

Throat radix: clove, vervain

Heart radix: saffron, heartsease, rose

Plexial radix: goldenseal, wild cherry

Belly radix: coriander, fennel, mint

Root radix: Bethpaarean ginseng, fruits of the malacca tree

Foot radices: neroli

Remember that this is fantasy! Don’t borrow Helaina’s remedy (which is externally applied, by the way) for yourself. My research was aimed at devising a plausible recipe for the magical (and fictional) ailment that troubled my character. Nothing more.

In the course of my herbal reading, I did stumble upon a very simple remedy for cough. Which I recollected after learning that commercial cough medicines are useless. It was made of two foodstuffs – and seemed so innocuaous that I determined I would try it on my hacking, sleepless 7-year-olds.

Freshly squeezed lemon juice, slightly warmed and mixed with honey. That’s all.

My son and my daughter were enthusiastic about the honey, less so about the sour lemon. But I got a dose into each of them. And then?

Miracle!

photo by Yellow CatFor half an hour straight, there were no coughs. Not a one. That was long enough for them to fall asleep. Once asleep, they stayed asleep for four whole hours. Wow!

They each needed another dose when they awoke sometime after midnight. We went through a lot of lemons and an entire jar of expensive raw honey. But it was worth it!

For more about the world of Troll-magic, see:
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
Character Interview: Lorelin
What Happened to Bazel?

 

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Character Interview: Lorelin

photo of Italian hill townAcross 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?

The flute magicianLorelin (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.

photo of a 4-posterSecretary: 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 MoonSecretary: 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?

 

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Waterfall and Fairy Tale

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.

Photo of a waterfall in the Blue Ridge MountainsThe 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)

Delicate woodland flowerIt 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!

Photo of view from the top of the fallsIt 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!)

photo of a bookIntroducing 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

 

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A Great Birthing

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 Elaborates
It 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.Small white chapel at the water's edge

 

Belief and Practice in Silmaren
The 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.

 

Small stone kirk on a hill

Fiorish
The 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.

 

Church by night

Erice
In 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.

 

Cathedral of Auberon

Auberon
In 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.

 

Cathedral of Pavelle

Pavelle
Teyo 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.

 

 

shuttered window in a hill town

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

 

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