A Story that Grows in the Telling

Everything that happens, if it involves more than one person, will have two or more opinions about what actually happened.  The truth, if there is such a thing, will be somewhere among the opinions.  I think a legend at its base is a story that grows in the telling, resonating more and more with the audience, while it grows less and less true to its origin. 

A legend, to a storyteller, is too good to pass up.  In fact it is opportunity after opportunity to tell it plain, but instead, the bard, or skald, or elder decides to tell it so they see eyes grow wide, eyes that are rivetted on the storyteller. 

Fables provide lessons (and often talking animals), Myths explain gods and their interactions with people, Epics follow a series of critical events.  Epic Fable?  Mythological Epic?  Lore applies to the collected stories of a people, perhaps it is their stories that make them a people.  All these names for stories are words to describe stories of different flavors, but all of them, in someway, provide cultural cohesion.  Don’t you think?

J. R. R. Tolkien set out to provide what he felt his people lacked, a mythos for the British people.  It was Epic, it was Mythical, it spoke to me and continues to, as a reader, I hated to see it end.  Really, I hated the end, it seemed to me that Grey Havens was one of the sadest personal tragedies that I’ve endured.  Fine for Frodo and Bilbo, I’m sure Merry and Pippin and of course Sam all got on fine, but for me that world just ended.  There is a hole.

The nearest thing to the feeling of exploration and discovery that I got with LOTR is the discovery of Irish Mythology.  It is not in a neat package like LOTR.  It doesn’t have just one imaginer.  But it is an exciting and involving subject.  The hole is partly filled.

But I want more.  Sometimes you have to supply your own needs, like almost all the time you do so, I am in the process of writing several novels, but on the way to that I offer these thoughts, insights, resources, and diversions of interest to me and, I hope, to you.  Here I hope to gather legends and lore, notes on antiquity, and present day reality.

For now, welcome and please tell me what you like or you don’t.  I value your insights; I value your eyes, riveted, grown wide.

A Story Told (and told and told)

I’m a man with a story.  Even my name, O’Neill, has tales attached to it (like this one of the Hand Gules that is prominent in our heraldry,) but don’t we all?  I love old tales, tales of heroes, tales of real people in strange times and strange people in real times.  I have wanted to write such tales and, prodded by my friend, Jeffery, I have. 

I’ve just completed the first draft of a short story.  In the end Concerning The Deer Riders wandered a bit farther than I had anticipated.  Legendary wanderings?  You can read Concerning the Deer Riders yourself and see what you think.

I’ve begun a novel.  I am offering my unedited first draft as I write it.  When Jeffery first convinced me to try this format I realized that the first job was to get some content up and quick.  As such, my first use has been something of an artist’s sketchbook, an author’s notepad.  I do believe there is value in this.  Eventually it may be of use to other struggling writers to see the story of my struggle and see process as positive or negative example or even to provide encouragement by comparison.

Dear reader, I am a new novelist and at present I believe that my best chance of developing is getting something out there.  If you disagree please tell me, perhaps I will progress on several tracks. putting out raw very rough drafts and going back through past stories to sharpen and polish them.  Here is the novel beginnings: Intro to and  Beginning of The Abbot and the Djinn. Follow my progress HERE.

Of late I feel that I’ve put quite a bit of ore on these pages.  It is probably time to refine, to polish, to hammer some of these tales into something better than they were.  So now, we begin the  “. . . and told and told and told” part of the writers craft.  Find my polished stones here.

Tir na Nua

I have imagined a world apart.  A land out of time.  Now, on Earth, there is little doubt about some things which have happened, have passed into history.  These things are written.  Before and between the stone of what is written are legends of things not written, but perhaps true none-the-less. 

Tir na Nua is neither and both.  Have you wished that there was a land where the Celtic world did not fall beneath the Roman?  Have you wondered what that world might have been?  Such things have happened in the new land and we have word of it, remembered by bards, lineage by rote, History in mind and on their lips.  I bring these stories.

At one time folk we identify now as Celtic dominated much of Europe. Except for ruins, and votive offerings, and the words of enemies, and a very few scratchings on stones we have nothing left of these people.  To imagine a Celtic world like insular Ireland one must imagine the real, because there is little enough to instruct us as to what that real, Earthly world was like.  Enter the legend maker, the storyteller, the bard. 

I have had an interest in the real Celts, Gauls, Britons, Welsh, all the diverse tribes of a people who shared a way of life and an asthetic sense and language if not blood.  I want to gather material, post what I find, and get your reactions to topics of Antiquity, Celts in general, Insular Ireland, and of course my stories.

Sometimes I wish I dwelled in Tir na Nua, but instead I live in a much less misty, more pedestrian, and I would say, far less noble world.  Some things that come to my attention must not pass without comment.  I will comment on current events. (sorry if this is a buzz kill, please feel free to ignore all political rants of the author and return to escapist literature.) 

Content

I am working to put some of my scratchings, secreted away in numerous notebooks, into a form more conducive to your perusal and consumption.  These first draft stories and bits of back story are available at blog topics.

Here is a bit of that ever expanding effort? work? uh, drekk? Hopefully fascinating fiction.

I have in mind to collect many things here, but I want to produce for you stories of places outside of your experience (or anyones) and yet true and recognizable. You are welcome to browse as it accretes (I think this may be another Steveism. I should really look for it in some authoritative Dictionary.*) I will update metatags and such to reflect the sites altered state. It will never be done…

I pray I have not taxed your resources too much. Enjoy! Comment! Dispute! Encourage! Correct! Guide! Request!

Welcome to this,

LSO

PS. * ac·crete (-krt)

2. To grow or increase gradually, as by addition.

source

A Story that Grows in the Telling

A legend, at its base, is a true story that has grown in the telling, resonating more and more with the audience, while it grows less and less true to its origin.  A legend, to a storyteller, is a tale too good to pass up.  In fact it is opportunity after opportunity to tell a story as you heard it, but instead, the bard, or skald, or elder decides to tell it so they see eyes grow wide, eyes that are rivetted on the storyteller. 

Fables are lessons often presented by talking animals, Myths report the deeds of gods and their interactions with people, Epics detail a series of critical events.  But can you really catagorize a story so easily? Epic Fable?  Mythological Epic?  Legendary Myth?  What are they?  What is it?

Could it be Lore?

One might say that the word Lore applies to the collected stories of a people, perhaps they are the stories that make them a people.  All these words for stories describe tales of different flavors, but all of these provide cultural cohesion.  They are a shared heritage.  And there is another word to add to our growing list, heritage.  Don’t you think?  

J. R. R. Tolkien set out to provide what he felt his people lacked, a mythos for the British people.  It was Epic, it was Mythical, it spoke to me and continues to speak.  As a reader, I hated to see it end, but it did.  There is a small enough corpus of polished Tolkien fiction.  I have to say that I have felt the lack, but then Tolkien himself is a legend. 

I think Dennis L. McKiernan expressed a similar sentiment.  I’m no JRR Tolkien and neither is Dennis.  Personally I much prefer Morgan Llywelyn to McKiernan,  or Parke Godwin or George Martin (George’s Website) or. . . almost anyone, (sorry Dennis, in fairness I need to read something more recent of yours because I think I read your first high fantasy book and felt it was derivative, but then you said right up front what I’ve always felt, that there needs to be more high fantasy like JRR’s and you tried to fill that massive void.  Good for you.)

And since Dennis has ventured forth into Heroic, Epic, High Fantasy I feel that I may too.  Perhaps I will meet with even less success.  But this is my wee bit flung into the void.  It is to that end, the filling of the void, that I have conceived of Tir na Nua.

Welcome to Tir na Nua

I am in the process of writing stories, short and long and several novels, but on the way to that I offer these thoughts, insights, resources, and diversions of interest to me and, I hope, to you. 

I hope to gather legends and lore, notes on antiquity, and present day reality. You see, a legend is changed by its times, a story is shaped by the telling.  Present reality makes an impression both on how a tale is told and how it is heard.   For now, welcome and please tell me what you like or you don’t.  I value your insights; I value your eyes, riveted, grown wide.

A Story Told (and told and told)

I’m a man with a story.  Even my name, O’Neill, has tales attached to it (like this one of the Hand Gules that is prominent in our heraldry,) but don’t we all?  I love old tales, tales of heroes, tales of real people in strange times and strange people in real times.  I have wanted to write such tales and, prodded by my friend, Jeffery, I have. 

I’ve just completed the first draft of a short story.  In the end Concerning The Deer Riders wandered a bit farther than I had anticipated.  Legendary wanderings?  You can read Concerning the Deer Riders yourself and see what you think.

I’ve also begun a novel.  At least that is my intent.  Considering changes to my schedule I think I may progress differently than I did for the Deer Riders.  I intend to get it done before my birthday.  A bit of a gift to me.  But we shall see.  As such, considering the time, with my available time, without a history of being able to work that quickly expect IF I DO that it will be very raw.  Dear reader, I am a new novelist and at present I believe that my best chance of developing is getting something out there.  If you disagree please tell me, perhaps I will progress on several tracks. putting out raw very rough drafts and going back through past stories to sharpen and polish them.  Here is the novel beginnings: Intro to and  Beginning of The Abbot and the Djinn. Follow my progress HERE.

Tir na Nua

I have imagined a world apart.  A land out of time.  Now, on Earth, there is little doubt about some things which have happened, have passed into history.  These things are written.  Before and between the stone of what is written are legends of things not written, but perhaps true none-the-less. 

Tir na Nua is neither and both.  Have you wished that there was a land where the Celtic world did not fall beneath the Roman?  Have you wondered what that world might have been?  Such things have happened in the new land and we have word of it, remembered by bards, lineage by rote, History in mind and on their lips.  I bring these stories.

At one time folk we identify now as Celtic dominated much of Europe. Except for ruins, and votive offerings, and the words of enemies, and a very few scratchings on stones we have nothing left of these people.  To imagine a Celtic world like insular Ireland one must imagine the real, because there is little enough to instruct us as to what that real, Earthly world was like.  Enter the legend maker, the storyteller, the bard. 

I have had an interest in the real Celts, Gauls, Britons, Welsh, all the diverse tribes of a people who shared a way of life and an asthetic sense and language if not blood.  I want to gather material, post what I find, and get your reactions to topics of Antiquity, Celts in general, Insular Ireland, and of course my stories.

Sometimes I wish I dwelled in Tir na Nua, but instead I live in a much less misty, more pedestrian, and I would say, far less noble world.  Some things that come to my attention must not pass without comment.  I will comment on current events. (sorry if this is a buzz kill, please feel free to ignore all political rants of the author and return to escapist literature.) 

Content

I am working to put some of my scratchings, secreted away in numerous notebooks, into a form more conducive to your perusal and consumption.

Here is a bit of that ever expanding effort? work? uh, drekk? Hopefully fascinating fiction.

I have in mind to collect many things here, but I want to produce for you stories of places outside of your experience (or anyones) and yet true and recognizable. You are welcome to browse as it accretes (I think this may be another Steveism. I should really look for it in some authoritative Dictionary.*) I will update metatags and such to reflect the sites altered state. It will never be done…

I pray I have not taxed your resources too much. Enjoy! Comment! Dispute! Encourage! Correct! Guide! Request!

Welcome to this,

LSO

PS. * ac·crete (-krt)

2. To grow or increase gradually, as by addition.

source

The Occupations of the Losterlies

What led to the conditions at the time of “The Man Who Forgot Himself.”

The first folk to come to the Losterlies were probably the Grey Elves. In their wanderings they became aware of it, used it as a shelter, and for provision, but one can not rule out the Fomorians as possible first arrivals. The Grey Elves, it can not be denied, certainly used the isles, stored cache’s in it, and used them, sometimes even wintering over on rare occasions. It is therefore safe to conclude that they were the first residents no matter how brief the occupations. *Considering their longevity there might be a written record or even living memory of Grey Elf occupation.*

A ship’s company of Wanderers, folk related to the Grey Elves but not long lived, are known to have been ship wrecked with a cargo of items including live goods from the far South, among these are a small species of Alpaca, potato, certain peppers, yams, and other tropical fare, many of these things did not and do not thrive in the climate of the Losterlies, but the wanderers have made the best of the available genetics, breeding things to the conditions and finding volcanically created micro climates that have allowed these stocks to be cultivated if only to preserve them and for very limited, sometimes medicinal, use. However some of these experiments in botany and animal husbandry have succeeded well enough to gift the islands with a unique and particularly favorably diverse and rich flora and fauna. The Wanderers have added these and continue to husband others in their mountain micro-climates. They continue a semi-nomadic lifestyle despite being limited to the Losterlies. They seem to prefer the mountains and seclusion coming out to trade their biologicals and crafts for the things that make their lives better.

It is a company of Grey Elves that tell Seabrooke about the Losterlies and they find and establish a colony in the sheltered bay of the main island. Though the going is difficult the group survives and begins to establish a strong presence. As soon as survival seems assured, a crew member, Calvin, begins to cause trouble. When the boat that bears them to the isle is no-longer needed for survival, Calvin takes charge of it and moved with a couple supporters and their families to the Northeastern side and establishes a separate village focused more on fishing and the sea.

The Coming of the Laird and the Celtic Overlay on the Seabrook Base

Despite numerous Fomorian raids over the years and the occasional interaction with the Gypsies, the Seabrook colony remains largely homogeneous until it is overwhelmed by a Celtic invasion. Initially the overlord Celts maintain a highly bifurcated population, but in just a few generations the two halves begin to integrate.

Homogenizing the Population

Defending against a wave of Fomorian attacks unifies the island in two (2) ways. 1) Working and fighting together is a great leveler and 2) the Fomorian wave isolates the island from greater Oceanic Celtia–Celtia contracts leaving the Losterlies isolated, embattled, and with these shakings the island’s population begins to homogenize. the survivors value their co-survivors and come out of the battle as islanders together. Celtia forgets them and the Folk of the Island become a people. Their is still a Laird and a Tanist, but Tanistry reaches deep into the community and by the time of “The Man Who Forgot Himself” it reaches across race, occupation, and even surname.

Initially, in the first generation, Capt. Seabrooke sought to keep the colony together in the one village, but Calvin’s defection, Fomorian attack, Celtic overlordship, Gypsie influence, intermitant growing and contracting population, trade, and even the Skellig Monastry all work to spread out the population.

Probably the biggest factor was the periodic Fomorian incursions. The benefits of having some resources decentralized and some population base to at least have a place to flee to, became apparent when Brookton was attacked by the Fomorian sea raiders for the first time.

Landmarks and Works of Man

The Celts build a stone ring fort, stripping the village surrounding fields of their walls. As agriculture moves up the valley and around the lake, crannogs are built for defense. There is a narrowing of the river bed that leads from the lake so it is a natural defensive point that the colony fortifies and the Celts improve making a stone stronghold between Brookton and the Lake region.

The Separatists use the black stone (basalt) of the North Shore in all their buildings and after the first Fomor attack they create a tightly organized village with narrow corridors, blind corners and various defensive strong points and escape routes, it becomes known as Blackwarren.

The southside of the island relies on poor moorage and remoteness for its safety. This is particularily true of the Skellig Monastry. The coast is very rugged. Even if a safe landing is made on the narrow beaches, raiders face a difficult climb up cliffs to reach the widely spaced farms and a long hike further into the interior to two or three settlements any larger than a single extended family compound.

The last act of the heroic heyday of the Losterlies was a pitched battle against a large Fomorian raid. In it the Celts are aided by both the “native peasantry” and the mysterious Wanderers. There is much death and destruction AND volcanic eruptions add to the chaos.

Harvests are poor for years after–the population dwindles–the Losterlies are forgotten and they too forget, focusing on survival again through the lean times. Volcanism in the Losterlies is only the local manifestation of world wide disasters and a much less generous climate — the Losterlies are spared the wars over diminishing resources. War with Fomorian raiders reduced the population already and the survivors used an infrastructure and an agricultural base built for a larger population. The living was hard and there were technological losses, but starvation was not a great concern.

So it is that a healthy and somewhat happy population of Celtoseabrookians is filling out the loose garment of the earlier golden days. There is much hope for progress, indeed this typifies the population, that they are eager for gain and not afraid of hard work to reach it. Trade has recently been re-established within the last 3 or 4 generations and young men have sought glory fighting for Celtic Kings in distant lands — The Oceanic Celtic world is the big city to the Losterlies village farm.

Free CELTIC Fiction

My hope is to create fiction that speaks to the Celtic Heart.  So, warts and all here is a new story that I rip from Celtic legend and set in my new world, Tir na Nua, the Red Son of Concubar.

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Here is the novel beginnings: Intro to and Beginning of The Abbot and the Djinn.  Follow my progress HERE.

             .

Using a sort of “just start writing and see where it goes” technique I’ve completed the first draft of a short story.  In the end, Concerning The Deer Riders wandered a bit farther than I had anticipated.  Legendary wanderings?  You can read Concerning the Deer Riders yourself and see what you think.

                .

My Polished Stones

Since this is my process, a good deal of it is rough here as I begin.  My hope is to get better and better at writing Celtic Fiction so that reading it free will become a bargain and not a chore.  I plan to work on a few of my stories to make works of fiction closer to my potential.  That is, I plan to polish them by rewriting them for your reading pleasure and in particular the reading pleasure of those who might come across this sight and have little patience for my early fumblings unfiltered from my imagination?

Recently I’ve realized that I should not.  My first goal was to get something, anything here, secondly I NEEDED to write because it had been a long time since I had.  I have courted your opinion to no effect, but then why should I expect it?  Do I read other’s work and offer up my opinion, my help?  Not recently and can I help? 

So, I intend to polish up a few of the stories that have accumulated.  The raw novelization of the Abbott and the Djinn will continue, undoubtedly I’ll put up more unfiltered imaginings like the Deer Riders and Child of Moss.  Then, in a section before those unpolished stones, I will begin to offer some that have had my attention and effort so that you can judge me or at least have a better chance of being reliably entertained.  Some may read on to the raw.  HERE is the page that will list the more polished work. (it is currently empty <sigh>)

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Other Stuff

I am in the process of writing several novels, but on the way to that I offer these thoughts, insights, resources, and diversions of interest to me and, I hope, to you.  Here I hope to gather legends and lore, notes on antiquity, and present day reality.  Have a look HERE

For now, welcome, and please tell me what you like or you don’t.  I value your insights.

.

LSO

PS. HERE are some authors I have read and admire by way of giving you hints about where I’m aiming