Look what I found on the Wordsmiths Books site!
I am over the moon with excitement. Russ said it best:
The man says a mouthful:
Wynette and I were discussing recently how difficult it is to write works that touch on ancient Celtic culture, particularly Celtic religion. There Be Dragons there: that area of study is a battleground among academics, and those of us who have other flavors of attachment to that tradition tend to have a difficult time separating what truths we can glean of that tradition from the fantasy-movies that popular culture has overlaid them with. I have found a better flavor of understanding, not to mention some emotional peace on the topic, from digging into academic source materials. In the course of preparing for this series I went so far as to spend months (really, months!) reading academic works on Irish archaeology and actually dragged Mark all the way across The Pond to walk those sites myself.
Turned out to be a religious experience, ironically enough. But I digress, as usual.
Presently, I am reading a book loaned to me by Ron: The Time Falling Bodies Take To Light: Mythology, Sexuality & the Origins of Culture by William Irwin Thompson (ISBN 0-312-80512-8) which essentially picks up where Frazier left off with The Golden Bough – with stunning results. I am going to buy this book; it is one I will find necessary to re-read fairly often.
In the section I am reading now, Thompson engages in a lengthy footnote on the topic of the original One World Religion (of the Great Mother, of course) and where Sumer, with its ultimately masculine tradition that became the backbone of the Etruscan, Roman, and Greek religions diverged from the continuing Mother Goddess trad of Western Europe, and recommends these books, which I am also going to hunt down, as context on that divergence:
Time Stands Still: New Light on Megalithic Science by Keith Chritchlow (London, Gordon Fraser, 1979)
The Silbury Treasure by Michael Dames (London, Thames & Hudson, 1976)
The Avebury Cycle by the same guy & publisher, 1977
It was this week, as I was reading Thompson’s book, eating my lunch, absorbing his discussion of the Great Mother as both womb and tomb and how that perception is reflected in Neolithic tomb-sites e.g. Newgrange (though he doesn’t mention Newgrange but rather Bryn Celli Ddu in Wales, and shows that picture)—when, because I’ve been following Thompson’s argument and have passed through the narrow tunnel into the inner sanctum of Newgrange myself, I suddenly saw what would have been obvious to anyone who breathed that religion: the entrances to those barrow-tombs are models of the vagina of the Great Mother, which in that way of thinking is a two-way street. But this is only one of many insights I’ve had into the profoundly male-female, always-about-fertility-and-yet-always-about-something-more, nature of that religion. So if ancient Celtic culture and religion are on your radar, do yourself a favor: pick up those books.
Please observe the no-coffee-while-watching rule…
Please. It’s for your safety.
Alec Baldwin just keeps getting funnier. Go watch.
Making fiction-sausage doesn’t get much uglier than this. When Deaclan blew me off my story map a few days ago, I realized in short order that I had to rework the plot for this last section of the novel. My story bus gets hijacked frequently enough that I’ve actually got a methodology now. In the interests of full disclosure…
I’ve got two computers in my study. (Yes, I’m a geek. And I’m married to somebody in the computing industry, which means I have a great deal of tech support and the occasional hand-me-down from a defunct company, which is where I got Study Computer #2, my laptop.) I have an external monitor (another defunct-company hand-me-down) hooked up to my laptop, so there are two good monitors and a laptop screen at my disposal–which is a good thing, because it turns out I need to look at a lot of data at once when I’m developing fiction, particularly when I’m performing reconstructive surgery on a plot. So on one of my monitors I bring up Power Writer, the program in which I do all my fiction writing. (If you’re not familiar with Power Writer, and you write novels, this is a thing you want to know about: go here.) And on my other monitor, the one connected to the laptop, I bring up MS Word and start brainstorming in a new file. (Fortunately I’ve also got my favorite new productivity aid, Synergy, running, and can talk to both computers with one keyboard and mouse.)
In my brainstorming file, I ask myself questions like What does Edward want now? What is he afraid of? What is he going to do about it? and then attempt to answer those questions. The answers frequently surprise me, and always lead me to discover things that belong in my developing plot. But then, of course, I must also ask myself questions like What is Deaclan going to do about this thing Edward plans? — which leads me to even more plot points. All of these new plot points must be logged in my story file along with whatever notes I’ve got on them. I must go through this same exercise with each of my important characters, not just my PoVs.
In the process, for better or worse, I also discover pieces of motivation that have to be set up earlier in the story: things I was not consciously aware of until I began this exercise, even though they’ve been driving certain behaviors all along. Now I dive into earlier sections of the novel, layering in a few paragraphs of the rumination Deaclan favors (he says far more to the reader than to just about anybody else, as it turns out) or performing minor adjustments to existing dialogue.
Then, finally, I am left with a list of New Problems to solve: things I have determined characters will want or need to do, for which I don’t yet know the mechanics of how to accomplish them. They include issues such as the things one of two people who are functionally joined at the hip must do in order to effectively deceive the other, within the story rule-set, and — always the most challenging — how to accomplish certain bits of magic that Deaclan will decide are necessary.
It will be a couple days before I am writing sentences again, but it is already becoming obvious to me that I was wrong in my previous post: this novel is not going to come in shorter than anticipated. Silly me. I am going to have a hell of a time keeping it from getting *longer*. But it will definitely be a more exciting final act than I had previously planned.
And this, finally, is another reason why I write sequentially and accept the shenanigans of my unruly characters. I could never have imagined this story all at one go; it evolves as I write, and is much better for it. The novel that will finally go to press will include only a vanishingly small amount of what I originally expected to write, and the muse–who mostly doesn’t say much until I am putting words on the page–is better at this stuff than I. 🙂
As usual, my conscious mind is the last to know. When I got nervous about Deaclan’s reaction in the last scene, I *should* have been: I now realize it changes big chunks of his plot. What I’d planned for him between now & the climax has been entirely obviated; whatever changes I make to his plot must, perforce, ripple into Lesle’s as well. I must, at this late date, engage in yet another round of plot restructuring.
Two pieces of good news:
The plot as re-planned by the muse (thought not yet fully revealed to my conscious mind) will be better than the one I’d sketched. He is better at plot than I.
The book will probably come in a bit shorter.
Now I just have to figure out what everyone will be doing instead of what I’d planned. Has anybody seen my map?