The man watched as his young friends fled.  Lugh found a drink un-spilled in his hand and decided that a sign.  He drank, draining the rest of it in one long pull.  Even that time was not enough for the man, he stood, back toward Lugh, watching as the young men fled.  Lugh began to grow concerned, was this the girl’s father?

“Are you the one we call the Youth?”

“Well, how would I know. . .”

“Do not toy with me.  Are you one of the unatural children of the goddess Dana?  Lugh of the long journeys some call you.”  The man turned, his eyes bore into Lugh’s, “But when you came to us before, some 300 years gone, we called you the Youth.  At least that is what we called you after you left us.”

“I am called Finn . . .”

“You call yourself that, Oatey calls you Lugh, Lugh Lamfada, the far reacher, the one of the long journeys.  You have white hair, so you are Finn, well and good.  Anyone can see that.  Do you deny you are the creature Lugh Lamfada then?  Is that how you came to the Norfolk when we sheltered you from your brother?”

“. . . the creature. . .”

The Norfolk barked a humorless laugh.  “Really, you would bridle at being called creature, when you are hundreds of years old, when you look no older now then when you left us and brought on us the wrath of Baelor and all this of the giants.  Really, creature is not to your liking?  How about demon then, how about monster?”

“How about man?”

“How can that be, Finn?  Man?  I don’t know what you are, but man does not describe you.”

“Did I say I was this Lugh creature?”

“No, you deny it.  You call yourself Finn and doing so you call Oatey Moss a liar.”  The Norfolk grinned, but there was nothing of laughter in it.

Lugh ground his teeth.  Who was this pompous prosecutor?  Lugh regretted the beer and the evening.  He might even have regretted Oatey and the giant hunt, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to that.  “You have me at a disadvantage, you accuse me, but I don’t even know your name or by what rite you question.  You seem ready to hang me for this thing of Baelor of which I know nothing.  And I thought the Norfolk a civil folk, but is this how you treat a guest?  This is what passes for hospitality in the North?

“You’re into town early, brother.” The fellow lounged just inside the gate of a paddock, apparently associated with the nearby rhamshackled inn.  “What brings you to Bellhaven so early?” 

Iamerge stopped and looked at the fellow.  “Well, I’m looking for somebody.  A business matter. . .”

“Business?  Well, then you’ve met your man.  Why, I’m the mayor of Rat Town.”

“Rat town?”

“Sure sure, this ain’t Fish Town, this ain’t the Square, this ain’t the Hill, it’s Rat Town.” The man chuckled to himself, “Truth is t’was rats voted me mayor, so it ain’t rit down or noth’n.  Still, you ask anybody who’s the mayor of Rat Town and they’ll say old Jim is.

“Yes, well good to meet you. . .”

“Jim, Jim Cooper is my name.  I make my way, sure I do.  I know what’s what, and who, that I do.  If you need know’n you talk to old Jim. You ask anyone who the mayor of Rat Town is, they’ll tell you, old Jim is, sure enough.

“I’ll remember your honor.”

Cooper laughed at that and jumped to his feet, “I like you.  Most of them brothers don’t want noth’n to do with old Jim, but you ain’t no brother at all are you?”

Iamerge whirled on the man who was standing in the gate now, not lounging, on his guard, “Why do you say that?” 

Cooper laughed again,  “Well you can take the monk out of the habit, but you can’t take the habits out of the man.  Most of your brothers cut the front of their hair off.  You look like nobody cut your hair for awhile.”  Cooper’s chuckle lost its humor, “No brother’d have much to do with old Jim, but that don’t mean we in town don’t know their worth.  You aren’t likely to find no friend around here if you did them ill.  So how’d you come dressed like a brother to Bellhaven lad, and don’t try to tell Jim no tale.” 

“I’m looking for a man, just looking for him,”  Iamerge stepped back toward the center of the street.

“Now that’s not what I asked,” And Jim Cooper, or whoever he was, moved after, staying closer than Iamerge liked.

“I’m staying with the brothers, with Gospels,”  He said, defensively. There was a rumbling, but Iamerge’s attention was on old Jim, who moved like a fighter and not that old either.  The rumbling sound was louder, drawing his attention, He saw horses and men bearing down, and in that moment Cooper had a fist full of Iamerge’s garment and was yanking him into the paddock.

Greetings!

This page is where I’m assembling links to posts and any other item that goes into the writing of the first draft of my online novel, “The Abbott and the Djinn.”  I was planning to get it done before my birthday, but I am failing to do so. It occurs to me that I have a birthday in 2011 as well. Hmmmmm.  (And also 2012.)

This is a true rough draft.  I have only 15 or 30 minutes to write at a time.  I glance at the previous section and then just write.  You can argue about my process, please do, but for now and to get words on the page I think it is the best. (advise solicited and desired) 

Too long I’ve wanted things to be perfect before proceeding and so I hardly begin.  Well, the Abbott and the Djinn is begun.

Below you will find dated notes on my progress and afterward a partial outline linked to what I’ve roughed out so far.  At the bottom you can look at older notes.

August 15, 2011, Today is a long time from when last I posted an update to this page.  I have added a few posts, but not many and I think what I’ve done is not so good.  I need for Iamerge to speak to Rhaury about the stake he hopes to get from him, the investment he left with Rhaury’s father Roderick UiBirlinn.  I need to give Rhaury time to send everything out of Bellton so that Iamerge will feel he has to remain with the the monks and Gospels.  I don’t like what I’ve written, but this is supposed to be rough.  I fear my frustrated perfectionism has driven me away from this work.  I need to get back to it and hurry.

14 Dec 2010 – Beginning Chapter 8.  This is what I had anticipated doing awhile ago, but the trouble with the Gobli (oops, don’t tell anyone) intervened.  Here then is yet another character, Conal McKendrik, who will continue with Iamerge for awhile.

30 Nov 2010 – Iamerge and Conal on their way back.

26 Oct 2010 Decided to wrap up this installment and get it out. 

15 Oct 2010 – I’m well into a chapter seven that I hadn’t planned on writing at all.  In it I have introduced a character and I’ve also imagined where he might be employed in later chapters.  I fear that I’ve engaged in some sloppy writing.  I have one portion (7.2)where I switch point of view back and forth between Iamerge and Conal, the new character.  You may recall that I did that at the very beginning.

Well, as promised, this is rough first draft work that you get to see before it is cleaned up.  Lucky you.

Anyway, I believe there are links to everything I’ve done on A&D to this point.

LSO

Here is an outline of the story: (linked for easy navigation to what is available so far.)

The Abbott and the Djinn (Outline)

I.  Intro (I have an intro posted)

II.  The Skellig

     A. The Storm (I think Chptr. 1.1 fits in here)

          1.  The Storm from Gospel’s perspective. (by the way, Smoke refers to a monk he thinks of as “White Hands” until the men make a personal connection and he, the monk, reveals that his name is Gospels.)

          2.  Waking from Smoke’s perspective (Chptr. 1.2.)

     B.  Recovery

           1.  Smoke wakes Chp. 2.1

           2.  Conversation with White Hands Chp. 2.2 and Chp 2.3 AND Chp 2.4

           3.  White Hand’s wealth Chp. 2.5  (Sad to say this important connective tissue has not been written. Conversation’s three volumes  above need to be reworked I think and THEN we reveal the wealth.  It is a book or books, the very one mentioned in the introduction of course.

     C.  The Meeting of Different Worlds

            1.  Two friends (after the exciting and insightful chp. 2 that doesn’t yet exist, Smoke and Gospels) sit and talk setting the scene for the arrival of the contingent from the abbey.  Chp. 3.1

            2.  The monk goes to offices as Smoke thinks.  Chp. 3.2

            3.  Gospels discovers that he doesn’t know very much about Smoke.  Smoke tries to reassure, but raises more questions with his selection of “Iamerge” for a name.  Chptr. 3.3

             4.  Introductions.  Chp. 3.4 I jumped over this, skipping ahead to:

             5.  Boat ride to the Abbey

                   a)  Chp. 4.1 (Notably absent and I think essential are the monks chanting offices as they travel and Smoke’s glimpses of the nearby town, his anticipated destination before being wrecked on the Skellig. I think these items are important enough to add if not as narrative at least as notes here and likely in a revised 4.1.  Yes, I know what I said, give me a break.)

                   b) Arriving at the Monastery Chp. 4.2

                   c) Gospels remembers Smoke Chp. 4.3

                   d) Discussion in the guesthouse (not yet written)

              6. Smoke (Imerge) in the town

                    a) Initial impressions  (Chp. 5.1) as Smoke (Imerge) enters the port town seeking to find the agent holding his hold stake.  Iamerge Meets Ol’ Jim Cooper, the mayor of Rat Town.(Chp. 5.2)   Iamerge nearly gets run down by armed guards of the man he is looking for, but Roderick Ua Birlinn being dead, his son Ruaridh Ua Birlinn will have to do.  All this he discovers from Cooper.(Chp. 5.3)

                    b) The talk of the Tavern begins with Cooper tending bar and talk of the situation. Gospels is brought up. Conversation in the basement. (Chp. 5.4) The rest of that conversation, (Chp. 5.5). . .           . . .that does not include this part (Chp. 5.6)

                    c) Iamerge walks the streets (Chp. 5.7)

                    d) Speaking to the force of nature (Chp. 5.8)

              7.  Iamerge returns to the monastery and then leaves.

                     a) Iamerge falls asleep beneath a tree (Chp. 6.1)

                     b) Gospels talks to Iamerge (Chp. 6.2)

                     c) Hebrews and the walk to the ambush (Chp. 6.3)

                     d) Iamerge and Gospels meet Rhauri Ui Birlinn (Chp. 6.4)

               8.  The ministry of the Monastery’s Brethern

                      a)  Iamerge and Gospels reach the disaster.  Conal McKendrick (7.1)

                      b)  Iamerge and Conal in the night (7.2)

                      c) Iamerge in the blue morning (7.3)

                      d) Iamerge and Conal on their way back to the Monastery (7.4)

III.  The Monastery, Among the Merciful Brothers

     A.  The Brotherhood (specifically a brotherhood of the wounded.)

           1.  Iamerge’s discontent (8.1)

           2.  Meeting Ui Birlinn

                        a. Iamerge meets a rider, Rhaury Ui Birlinn (8.2)

                        b. The question of Niamh and Rhaury misses his chance (8.3)

                        c.  Council and consolation for Conal (8.5)

                        d.  Leading to recovery (8.6)

           3.  What Iamerge overheard at the refectory (Chp. 9.1)

     B.  The Twelve

     C.  A Thirteenth Brother

IV.  The Journey Begins

Well folks.  Until I get a little farther down the road I think that’s all the outline I’m ready to put out.  Meager, I know, but there is more rattling around in my head, not to mention the odd plot twist that keeps cropping up.

Hopefully the progress page will progress better than it has resently, but even more I hope to put more electrons to page and really get this whole thing underway.

Wish me good luck,

LSO

 past posts:

28 Sep 2010 – My last update was in April.  Yikes!!!  I HAVE added more to the novel, slowly but surely, but this progress page has languished.

The story has made a turn I did not previously outline, so it seems that Iamerge and Gospels have surprised me again.  It seems there was a Goblin attack.

19 Apr 2010 – And a little bit more.

8 Apr 2010 – A little bit more and I introduced the name of Smoke (Iamerge) ‘s Factor, Ruaridh Ua Birlinn.  We also learn that Jim Cooper is the town nose, if we didn’t know that already. 

5 Mar. 2010 – Oiye, a whole week and so very little to show for it.  I’m interested in the Jim Cooper character and where he will lead.  I don’t particularily like them talking so much again, but I threw some action in at the end.  I think I should stop criticizing it now and just let you read the little that there is.  Read it.

25 Feb. 2010 – I’m finally back at it.  I made a little change to account for Chapter 5, Iamerge goes to town, and started writing that part.  I haven’t yet wrapped up the meal and conversation that Gospels and Iamerge have, but there has already been too much talking so I skipped ahead this little bit.  No guaranties I won’t do that more.  Let me know what you think of that.

8 Feb. 2010 -  Decided to post this beginning of  Chp 5.  Also added a little to the “Child of Moss” saga. Read part 2.

2 Feb. 2010 – Had opportunity to get to the second half of Chp. 4.  I’m still planning to rewrite 4.1 to add some elements.

1 Feb. 2010 – I have to say that hope of finishing the first draft of this novel by my birthday are dimming.  I did do a little bit of writing today, but sad to say it wasn’t focused on The Abbott and the Djinn. Instead I started a new story, I only meant for it to be a brief little vignette, but again things got away from me.  If you want to see what I did, read THIS (Child of Moss).

28 Jan. 2010 – I’ve been chiselingaway at this for too long.  I had to get it out and begun.  Having escaped the Skellig, Smoke, now naming himself Iamerge, comes to the Abbey.  I jumped over the introductions as those monks will be in seclusion, perhaps for longer than Smoke and Gospels will remain near the Abbey.  The three other monks who returned with the boat are of immediate interest. 

I am leaving the 21 Jan. post because it contains my apologies for this format.  I am roughing out a story and would be very appreciative of your help.  I fully realize that I am putting it out raw in part so that you can make comments and I won’t feel invested in work delivered with much blood and sweat.  I also want to offer a glimpse of my process.  Most of all I just want to write something down.  Names may change, place, time, order of events, facts, geography, all are malleable

21 Jan 2010 -  Sadly it has taken so long for so little.  What I have of chapters two and three might be edited down to the first half of a better 2, but that is for rewrites.  I think the momentum is stalling and so I have trouble getting things written.  In the end I have them chat. (hardly riveting)

Dear reader, please forgive me. sequentially there is an even wordier section as the group of monks meet their abbott and this new stranger.  It may not make the editing, but as I imagine it, these conversations must take place.  Once imagined they may be discarded to be remembered as needed, flashed back upon, or if they are simply insipid, left on the bone pile of events never reported.

Again, I apologize.  I am both inexperienced in writing novels AND intentionally putting things out as they come to me largely unedited.  This I do because of time, firstly, but also as a sort of writer’s seminar.  Feel free to comment, telling me what you think is of value, reveals character, effectively foreshadows (or you think might, if you guess I’ll tell you), should be kept or moved or retold.  I also value criticism up to and including matters of spelling and grammar, but also let me know what doesn’t work for you as narrative.  You are the reader who I seek to entertain, your opinion matters.

10 Jan 2010 – I’ve left Chp. 2 a mess and pressed on.  In order to get something started beyond the disaster I began Chp. 3

22 Dec 2009 – Currently there is not much of it on the site, nor much on this page.  I’m planning on getting it done before my birthday so I better get busy.  Beware the Ides of March.

4 Jan 2010 – I am unhappy with my last post, Chp 2.4.  I’m not exactly sure how I need to proceed. 

I’m sure that I will run into many such pauses.  Initially I feel like I want to resolve it right now, but I suspect a better idea would be to press on to Chapters 3 and 4, which I have in mind, instead of going back over the old material.

So, let me argue it out here before you and hopefully come to a decision that both resolves my delema and offers you insight into my process (AND has me writing if only on the progress page instead of real progress.)

This is intended to be a first draft.  In addition to being a novel it is, or will be, a bit of a foundational document that touches much of the world of Tir na Nua by speaking to the Biblious Monastics and the idea of long lived people and their impact as well as the impact being different has on them personally.  These are very important issues not only to this story, but to many or likely most of the rest of the stories.

Clearly, I want it to be right, and yet in this format I’m throwing it against the wall and seeing what sticks.  And then perhaps finding what stinks. 

In other work on Tir na Nua I have focused on characterization and have jumped from scene to scene in a story, ignoring the intervening narrative, and leaving it to the future to tie the scenes together.  I think that is a good approach. 

My plan is to rely on this progress page when editing becomes necessary.  If I leave 2 as it is, look for explanations and revision notices on this page.  Going forward, I may leap ahead and actually post chapters ahead, but I will try to at least tie such leaps together with outlines of the intervening plot.

Some may know, but it seems to me that they do not comprehend the reality of the hundreds of years my father and I have lived.  They do not see the way he uses them.  They plot and scheme, but they live and die at his word and often serve his purpose even while they think they will succeed in supplanting him.

I am not his heir, though I am the oldest of his.  Whether it is because he hates my mother, Brigid, or for some error of mine, or because I am not evil enough for his taste I do not know.  But he delights in tormenting me.

He keeps me close, as one should always keep one’s enemys, and so I stay to watch the man.  I also must watch my back.  My brothers think I am favored to be at my father’s feet, they see me as a rival.  They seek to rise and they do not know that no son of Brigid will ever sit his throne.  But then Balor never means to give it up, he means to live forever.

Balor hates.  That seems to me to be the greater part of evil, More than anyone else he hates Lugh, his brother, and second of all he hates my mother, his sister, Brigid.  Sometimes I know he hates me third, but no one could supplant the first two in his antipathy.  His nearest brother, his wife, and his son, folk so close to him he hates the most.

This character figures in the Niall Nine Hostages tale.  He lives and observes all that Balor does. As such he could be a point of view character for “the Many Son’s of Balor.” I still need to decide on a name. He is very good looking, he could be Bres. As an observer he could very well be Tuan (I plan to use the name Tuan for an Uber-Celt that is placed with the Norfolk), the magical observer for “the Book of Invasions.” Then too, he might have a name that reflects his true parentage, but I haven’t settled on anything yet.

Two Son’s of the UiNiall, Eremon and Crimthan, were returning from battle training on an island near Alba. These two had always been rivals, brothers they were, and always seeking to best each other and liking it not at all if his brother was viewed as superior in any sense. They had been sent to sharpen their battle skill, but ruth to tell also to see if one might better the other and so be clearly more fit to lead the clan.

The sly one, Crimthan, brought up the subject that runs thick between them, “At some point we will be forced to fight each other if one or the other does not yield.” Then followed a long recitation of all the arguments and counter-arguments that both know well and have heard all their lives, but always they lead to this impasse. “If only there was a way…” The sly fellow mused.

The ship master feared to land his boat lest it be dashed on the rocks and they all be lost, so they ride at anchor on a storm tossed sea. And such a ride, even the sailors, veterans all, looked a bit queasy. The two sons of clan Niall are impatient. Their training and their pride will not let them show anything but exasperation at the delay.

“What if we agree to a race?” Crimthan eyed his brother, gauging him, “First one ashore will rule the clan?”

Eremon sighed, “Truly? A race? Is that a fit way to decide so great a question, I wonder?”

“Isn’t it as good as any? Better than most, for I do not have to raise a hand against you my brother, and you do not have to raise a hand against me.”

“What if we both perish in this fool contest? “ asked the stronger.

“I’m surprised by you, Eremon, I’d have not thought you would give into fear. I’ve never known you to lack courage.” And this he said knowing that whether geas or just willfulness his brother would die rather than have his courage put in doubt.

Eremon growled deep in his throat, “Courage…”

Crimthan fought hard to hide his excitement as Eremon mulled but for a moment, “If we do this fool thing, and I win will you support me? There can be no turning from this course if we decide, this is far too important a thing. I know you think you are wiser than me, but I think you trust yourself too much. I will want your advise, but I do not think you would be the best to rule. Will you swear to support me if I reach shore before you?”

“You know that I will.” Crimthan promised.

“Let us have witnesses then, Ferdiad, Eochaid come witness.”

The witnesses gathered with the brothers, “Let the one who’s right hand touches shore first lead the clan with the full support of the other, setting aside concerns and trusting to fate and blood. Swear it Crimthan as I swear it now before these witnesses, the one who’s hand touches first will rule.”

“I swear it. The one who’s right hand touches first will rule.”

Prepare you then, I will speak to the captain and ask him to carry us closer into shore that we may not both parish for your impatience.  Eremon turned to the captain, but his brother was already in motion.

“You should prepare, but as for me I have prepared all my life. Wit should lead bravery. He ran to the rail dropping his cloak, revealing his body stripped for swimming and greased against the cold. With not a word more  Crimthan dove into the heaving sea.

The boat approached as Crimthan labored in the waves and for a moment he feared he had miscalculated. Had Eremon taken command and decided to dash the boat on the rocks? It sounded like the kind of direct action that he would favor, but Crimthan didn’t think he would risk so many lives.

The boat turned parallel and the waves crashed over him so all he could do was fight for his life. As he thrashed he felt the sand beneath him, then the wave slammed him into the bottom.

Crimthan struggled out of the surf. His body was numb he was shaking, and his teeth chattered, but that meant nothing. He was elated, he had done it.

“Save my hand!” The shout rang out over the roar of the waves, but the words meant nothing to Crimthan until he staggered out of the surf and  saw the ghastly lump, like a fat white spider, on a smear of red.

“That, is the right hand of the chief!” shouted Eremon.

Crimthan crawled to the hand. He’s mad he thought. Crimthan grabbed the cold dead thing and clamored to his feet. An urge to throw the thing into the surf came and just as soon left him, washed away in peals of laughter. Exhausted he collapsed, but couldn’t stop laughing. “I have it!” He laughed and couldn’t gather himself for a moment. “That was a long reach my brother, but I think you will need a new right hand!”

“You always were the wise one, good thing for me I favor the dexter. But a chief ought to have a strong right hand,” Eremon called from the boat.

“I have what you lack my brother,” He waved the grizzly trophy above his head.

“Instruct me. Do I lack wisdom?”

“No, not that. Now I see you are wiser than I am.”

“Surely not courage.”

“No brother, I risked my life to cheat you, but no one can doubt your courage this day.”

“Strength then?”

“You know as do I, you are the stronger.”

“You will have to tell me then, what do I lack?”

“I told you, but perhaps you need ears.” Crimthan could hear his brother Eremon laughing, “You will need a strong right hand, and that I have.”

“Better at my side than at my throat! eh brother?”

And ever after that clan wore the hand gules as a badge of courage.

This is an adaptation or reimagination of a legend that explains the Red Hand on our arms.

LSO