Jane Lindskold's Blog, page 133

FF: Another Fragment

The Friday Fragments feature lists of what I’ve read over the past week.  They are not meant to be a recommendation list.  If you’re interested in a not-at-all-inclusive list, you can look on my website.

This is not a book review column.  It’s just a list with, maybe, a few opinions tossed in.

What’s in Your Book Bag?

Enjoy!

Recently Completed:

Border Ambush by Melody Groves.  Excellent setting details.  The Colton Brothers, Trace and James, reminded me of the brothers from the film Silverado.  James is the annoying one.  The really annoying one.

Light Thickens by Ngaio Marsh.  Audiobook.  This turned out to be a sort of sequel to a Marsh novel set twenty years earlier.  Once again murder haunts the Dolphin Theater – this time tangled up with the curse associated with the play Macbeth.  If you like theater (I do), you’ll enjoy the opening sections.  If you don’t, they may drive you crazy.

Recast by Seung Hui Kye.  Volumes 3-6.  I read the first three issues of this Korean manga a couple weeks ago and liked enough to order the rest from my library.  Some parts are great, but the author doesn’t seem to know where to focus.  Ending is far too sudden, making me suspect a cancellation.

Tied Up in Tinsel by Ngaio Marsh.  Audiobook.  A Christmas murder set in a house where the owner has gotten around the servant problem by hiring “oncer” murderers.  I like quirky characters, so I very much enjoyed.

When in Rome.  Ngaio Marsh.  Audiobook.  Roderick Alleyn in Rome in quest of a key element in an on-going drug smuggling investigation.  Murder crops up before long.

In Progress:

Lord Demon by Roger Zelazny and Jane Lindskold.  Yes.  You read that right.  I’m re-reading my own novel.  Since I haven’t read any of it since soon after its release in 1999, it’s almost like reading something written by someone else – a feeling enhanced because of Roger’s contribution.  Ask me why I’m re-reading it now!

Fearless Fourteen by Janet Evanovich.

Within the Last Couple Months:

El Malpais, Mount Taylor, and Zuni Mountains: a Hiking Guide and History by Sherri Robinson.  I got this from the library as a resource when I was writing “The Hermit and the Jackalopes” for the forthcoming anthology The Change, edited by S.M. Stirling.  It was so fantastically written that I read the whole thing.

TT: Reserves vs Reservations

This week I’m challenging Alan…  Looking for something tranquil?  The Wednesday Wandering invites you to stroll with me in the tangled mass that is my garden.

JANE: Now, even though you’ve been very clear, I must admit, other things I’ve read about New Zealand don’t quite fit the picture you’ve given me.   I recently listened to a Ngaio Marsh novel, Colour Scheme.  It’s set during WWII in New Zealand.

Maori Myths and Weapons

There have been several references to “native reserves” with the implication (to my American ears) that these are lands upon which (or within the borders thereof) the Maori run the show or administer it or something.

This doesn’t quite fit with what you said last time.   Or at least my understanding thereof, which was that the Maori had no lands that were their own, except as individual landowners might own land.

Can you clarify?

ALAN: I really don’t know what Ngaio Marsh means by “native reserves.”  We simply don’t have reservations in the sense that you have described them. So I’m very puzzled as to what she might mean. Can you provide some context for me?

JANE: Okay, the area involved is Rangi Peak.  I’m not sure if this is a real place or one invented for the book.

ALAN: Yes, it really exists. Its Maori name is Te Peke o te Rangi Hekeiho and it’s 159 metres tall. Interestingly, it has never been climbed, so nobody knows what exciting things may lurk at the top…

JANE:  That’s neat.  Okay, in the novel, Rangi Peak is referred to as having been a Maori burial ground, apparently an extinct volcano into which they placed their dead.

When some of the pakeha characters go into the reserve, one notices a sign indicating that “curios” – what I think my archeologically-minded household would refer to as “artifacts” – cannot be removed from the area.

In the novel, there’s a really annoying man who wants to turn the area into a second Rotorua-like tourist attraction. He wants to do tours (with Maori guides if possible) of these sacred areas.  Several times, people (both Maori and pakeha) say “but it’s a native reserve…” The implication being that this man is pushing some sort of boundary.

Does that help?

ALAN: Ah! That makes a lot more sense. There are many areas that are sacred to Maori and which are regarded as reserves in the same way that a nature reserve is regarded as a reserve. The purpose, in the case of the Maori, is to guard and protect something that has enormous spiritual value to them. In some cases, for very sacred areas, general access is restricted or forbidden because of “tapu”, and the Maori consider themselves to be the place’s spiritual guardians.

JANE: Tapu?  Is that the same as taboo?

ALAN: Well, it’s very similar. In English, “taboo” simply means “forbidden” and I always assumed that tapu meant the same thing. Certainly tapu things can be forbidden. But when I started looking more closely at it, I discovered that there is rather more to it than that – it is closely related to the idea of mana (respect, authority, charisma) and tapu can be thought of as mana associated with the gods.

JANE: Great!  That makes it a lot more clear.  Please, go on…

ALAN: Everything in existence has an intrinsic tapu derived directly from the gods. Elaborate rules of behaviour maintain the sanctity of tapu. Disregarding the rules of tapu insults the mana of the gods and can lead to disaster, demonic possession or death.

Areas of spiritual significance, burial grounds, ceremonial sites, carved houses, and waka (canoes) all have their own tapu and, depending on the degree, may be sacrosanct and best avoided or at the very least approached with respect and caution.

JANE: I’m with you.  Can you give an example?

ALAN: A good example would be the popular tourist destination of Cape Reinga. It is the point from where spirits of the dead leave for their journey back to the ancestral homeland. It is a hauntingly beautiful and very spiritual place and Maori ask that respect for tapu be shown by all visitors.

Fresh water has the power to neutralise tapu to levels that are no longer dangerous to people and spiritual ceremonies will often involve sprinkling water over people, objects and the land.

JANE: I think I now understand what Ngaio Marsh meant.  Rangi Peak is not land owned by the Maori in the way reservation land here is owned by various tribes.  However, Maori traditions are respected to the point that, for some entrepreneur to get a business going, he’d need to have the cooperation of the locals.  That explains why the character in Marsh’s novel is busy courting the younger – presumably less conservative – members of the local Maori community.  Even so, he’s definitely pushing boundaries – of respect, if not of law.

ALAN: That’s exactly right. The cooperation of the local Maori is absolutely vital and their wishes are always respected. And sometimes working closely with the local iwi (tribes) can be very productive for everybody involved.

Here’s a lovely story that illustrates that. In a forest in the far north, there is a giant kauri tree known as Tane Mahuta – the largest tree in the country. In Maori mythology, Tane is the son of the sky father and the earth mother and the birds and trees of the forest are regarded as Tane’s children for whom he is responsible. So Tane Mahuta, the tree, is obviously very close to the gods themselves; perhaps even a manifestation of the god.

During a drought in 2013, 10,000 litres of water were diverted from a nearby stream to Tane Mahuta, which (who?) was showing signs of dehydration…

Everybody wins.

JANE: I have to ask…  Did this influx of fresh water have the side effect of reducing the tapu of Tana Mahuta?

ALAN: No, not at all. That would require a proper ceremony conducted by a tohunga (a wise man, or priest). The rehydration of Tane Mahuta was not ceremonial, it was simply a pragmatic act conducted by the Department of Conservation (DOC) with the full cooperation of the local iwi, of course.

JANE:  That’s a relief.  It would be a shame to save the tree but reduce its tapu.

What happens when there is an area that the Maori deem sacred or important, that isn’t within a designated “native reserve”?

ALAN: I’m not sure there’s any such thing. If there is an area that Maori deem sacred or important, then by definition it is a “native reserve.” The only exception might be land about which nothing is known but which later proves to be significant because of archeological evidence. In such cases, the land will always be purified in a ceremony conducted by a tohunga. What happens after that is moot.

How does it work in the United States?

JANE: First, I need to draw a few lines.  Within the United States, land ownership becomes complex.  There is Federal land (some of this is called BLM land, because it is administered by the Bureau of Land Management).  There is state land.  Counties, cities, or towns may also own land.  Finally, there is privately owned land.

ALAN: We don’t have a federal system, so it’s much simpler here. Land may be owned privately or by the government. Cities and towns may own land which contains infrastructure such as roads, and amenities such as parks.

JANE: Yes.  That is much simpler.  It’s not nearly as simple here.  If a location important to one of the tribes is on Federal land, then it can be designated a “culturally significant property.”  Interestingly, these may include shrines, burial areas, and natural resources, including plants, minerals, even clay.  This gives the area protection from development.

ALAN: We have similar designations for similar reasons and purposes.

JANE: I can’t speak for the other forty-nine states but, in New Mexico, the guidelines for designating a culturally significant property parallel Federal guidelines.

However, if the land is privately owned, cultural resources are unprotected.  Sometimes social pressure can be brought to bear.  I know of at least one instance where a group was speaking to some real estate developers about preserving a traditional shrine within land that was to be turned into a residential subdivision.

For this reason, organizations like The Archeological Conservancy have become important.  This is a private, non-government foundation that buys land containing significant archeological sites with the promise that they will not be developed.  Many times land owners donate such areas or sell at a reduced price.

ALAN:  We don’t have any organisations that would buy such land, though the same social pressures can be applied. Certainly all development would stop while the site was investigated. But eventually development would continue.

JANE: I guess I’m going into this is such detail because, since Jim’s an archeologist, we run into misunderstandings all the time.  One of the most common is that, if land contains artifacts or ruins, it’s automatically protected from use or development.  In fact, this is far from true.  One of the most important parts of Jim’s job is preserving the information in sites before they are either destroyed or buried.

ALAN: I find myself nodding at every point you make. We may organise things a little differently but I think we both get to the same place in the end.

JANE: That’s a relief!  I’m sure some of our readers will have questions, so I’d like to open the discussion to them.  Meanwhile, you’re at a significant point in your life.  I’d love to talk about how that’s going next time.

Backyard Habitat

It’s almost impossible to walk through my backyard right now.  The asters are chest-high and beginning to flower.  The globe mallow is higher than my head and showing off orange flowers.  We weave through, clipping only what we must and enjoying the greenery.

Asters and Mallow

To understand how wonderful this is, I need to take you back to my first Spring into Summer in this house.  This was 1996.  I’d moved into the house in December of 1995, helped by a crew of people that read like the staff of a major SF convention.  Melinda Snodgrass loaned her horse trailer and labor.  Walter Jon Williams, George R.R. Martin, Pati Nagle, and a host of spouses and just plain nice people helped move boxes and beds and my life-sized reproduction carousel horse, Goliath.

A fellow I knew from gaming, one “Jim” (I only vaguely knew his last name was “Moore”), was  among these nice people.  He offered to come back and fix a cabinet door that had gotten broken in the moving.  I’d marry him something over thirteen months later…

But that’s another story.

My house was built before real estate on the west side of Albuquerque was worth anything.  So my yard is fairly large – not acres or anything – but sizeable.  When that first Spring came, I set about discovering what was growing in it.  The answer was a discouraging “not much.”  There were two rose bushes and one juniper, all in the process of dying.  A few cedars near the house.  One tree out front.

Otherwise, there was a lot of a low ground-cover that looked pretty nice, especially when it broke out into tiny yellow flowers.  Less nice was discovering that this was a plant known locally as “goat’s head,” because of the caltrop-like seed heads that are designed so that at least one thorn is always up and ready to poke the unwary.

(“Goat’s head” is also known as puncture vine, tackweed, or ground bur-nut.  Its formal name is tribulus terrestis, which it completely deserves.)

My dad went on a vendetta against the goat’s heads, filling no fewer than eight thirty-gallon trash bags with the plants.  For years after, Jim and I would weed them out every Spring until, finally, it became possible to walk in the yard in our bare feet.  We did a lot more with the yard as well.

In addition to our beloved garden beds, we planted a trees and shrubs, opting mostly for types that don’t need a lot of water.  We learned which native plants and grasses didn’t produce thorns and encouraged these, while weeding out those with prickles.  We put in a tiny pond, bird feeders, and a couple of bird baths.

Over time, we developed a crop we hadn’t anticipated: wild life.  First were the lizards.  These mostly fall into two groups, the fence lizards and the blue-tailed lizards.  Neither are very large – though the blue-tails grow very long tails, often longer than the rest of their bodies.

As soon as we put up bird-feeders and water sources, we got the usual sparrows and finches.  Not long after, we began to get mourning doves, ring-necked doves, and rock doves.  Robins discovered our garden beds.  We now have at least a couple robins year-round and have, apparently, become a scheduled stop along the migration route.  Quail regularly parade through, as do roadrunners.  Hummingbirds.  Scrub jays.  Grackles.  And a wide variety of migrators, including some very showy oriels.  One cloudy afternoon I even saw a very confused night heron at our pond.

Then came the toads.  And this year we’ve had a desert box turtle make periodic visits.

As each type of creature has come through, we’ve done what we can to make them welcome.  We noticed that the finches and sparrows really liked the seeds of the spectacle pod, so, instead of weeding these out once the pretty white flowers were done, we left some to go to seed.  We did the same with Indian rice grass and other seed-bearing grasses.

At first we put up hummingbird feeders but, as we learned what plants we could get to grow, we eliminated the “soda pop” in favor of planting what the hummers naturally eat.  Now they buzz around our desert willow, cardinal vine, and trumpet vine.  What’s really interesting is finding out that they also like zinnias and hollyhocks.  The other night, I went out to pick some cinnamon basil for a salad and found a hummingbird sampling the tiny purple flowers.

For the toads, we let the Virginia creeper along the fence get bushy, so they have a cool, comparatively damp place to shelter during the day.  Many times on a summer evening, when we’ve gone to bring in the guinea pigs from their outside hutch, we’ve encountered a toad hopping slowly on its way to take a quick dip in the pond before beginning its evening rounds.

When the turtle showed up, we dug a shallow bowl – hardly more than a tray – into the ground so that it could get water or take a bath.  We’d love for it to become a full-time resident.

Right now we have some amazing wild sunflowers.  They’re easily twelve to fifteen feet tall, with small blossoms that are just opening up.  However, even when they are done with their dramatic flowers, we’ll leave them up so that the birds can forage.  In past years, we’ve had thrashers and small woodpeckers busily hammering away at the woody stems.  Goldfinches love the seeds and look like tiny ornaments as they flutter from branchlet to branchlet.

We don’t live in the country…  We have a good-sized yard, but not a huge one.  However, what we’ve learned is that if you let Nature in, she’ll accept the invitation, bringing you wonders never to be seen in your more typical neatly-planted, tidily-mowed yard.

Third Friday Fragment

Hi!  A brief introduction to newcomers to this feature…  This Friday Fragment is a list of what I’ve read over the past week.  It is not meant to be a recommendation list.  If you’re interested in a not-at-all-inclusive list, you can look on my website.

What you reading, Cowboy?

This is not a book review column.  It’s just a list with, maybe, a few opinions tossed in.

Enjoy!

Recently Completed:

Got A Revolution: The Turbulent Flight of Jefferson Airplane by Jeff Tamarkin.  Very well-written.  An ambitious effort to look at the interactions of a wildly creative group of people over the course of several decades of interaction.

First half of Days of Blood And Starlight by Laini Taylor.  Audiobook.

In Progress:

Border Ambush by Melody Groves.

Light Thickens.  Ngaio Marsh.  Audiobook.

Within the Last Couple Months:

Scream for Jeeves: A Parody by P.H. Cannon.  P.G. Wodehouse meets H.P. Lovecraft.  The author put a lot of work into fitting his stories into the established Wodehouse storyline so, for example, we now know the source of the mysterious flu that derailed one of Bertie’s engagements.  Recommended only for those familiar with the works of both authors.

TT: Pakeha and Pueblos

Looking for the Wednesday Wanderings?  Page back one and find out how an Idea became a Story.  Then join me and Alan as we take a look at some elements at modern New Zealand and New Mexico – including the mysterious figure of the pakeha.

ALAN: Last time I told you a little about how the Maori have become part of modern New Zealand.  How are things in New Mexico? What are the pueblos like today?

Hillerman Country, Courtesy of AAA

JANE: Today, many of the pueblos still exist.  Like all the remaining indigenous peoples, they are recognized as semi-sovereign nations within the United States

ALAN: Wait!  I thought “pueblo” was just another word for Native Americans or American Indians or whatever you call them.  I think I’m missing something.

JANE: “Pueblo” is actually a Spanish word meaning “town.”  The Spanish applied it to those Indian groups they encountered that lived in villages and cultivated farms.   There were many such groups, as I mentioned when we were discussing the Pueblo Revolt of 1680, encompassing multiple languages and a wide variety of customs.  Still, they had more in common with each other than they did with the more nomadic groups, such as the Apache, Navajo, and Comanche.

Does that help?

ALAN: Thank you – that helps a lot. I hadn’t realised that distinction existed.

JANE: Honestly, I’m not certain how much I realized before I moved to New Mexico.  Now it’s more or less second nature.

As I’ve mentioned, the first European-based group to come into the lands now called New Mexico were the Spanish.  However, in 1846, the Spanish turned over New Mexico to the United States.  In a process far, far too complex for me to go into here, agreements were worked out over time with each group.  These agreements included reserving land for the exclusive use of each group.  This reserved land became known as “reservations.”  With me so far?

ALAN: Yes. But what are the practical implications of that? Doesn’t it imply that there could be several administratively separate semi-sovereign (to use your term) “nations within a nation” as it were? That must lead to some horribly complex legal problems when the two systems interact and overlap.

JANE: Yep!  Exactly.  New Mexico has within its borders something like twenty reservations.  These vary in size from the sprawling Navajo reservation that has territory in both New Mexico and Arizona, to much smaller pueblo holdings.  However, even a small reservation encompasses many thousands of acres.  The larger tribes – like the Navajo – even have their own police force.

This makes life in New Mexico interesting, because there are large areas that are technically both part of and not part of the state.   Planning a road or rail line can become a nightmare, because each reservation must be negotiated with separately – and each tribal government will want concessions, equal to or exceeding those already granted to the other tribes.

ALAN: I just knew it was going to get complicated!

JANE: The thing that is often overlooked when people talk about “Indians” or “Native Americans” is that they are no more one group than Europeans are one group.

ALAN: And here, on the other hand, the Maori really are one group in the same sense that the English are a group or the French are a group.

JANE: That must be convenient!  Though, now that I think about it, I’d miss all the different cultures.  It’s one of the things I like about New Mexico.

Anyhow, a good way to get a feel for these nations within the nation is to read Tony Hillerman’s mystery novels featuring Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee.  Leaphorn and Chee are both Navajo, but the stories touch on many of the tribes and their interactions both with each other and the Anglo world.  Jim Chee’s best friend, Cowboy Dashee, is a Hopi.  (Despite the nickname “Cowboy,” Dashee is an Indian.)  He and Jim frequently tease each other about cultural differences – much as someone from Italy might tease someone from France.

ALAN: We don’t have that degree of separation or of isolation (though some Maori activists do campaign for it). The population of New Zealand is just the population of New Zealand and ethnic heritage gives no special rights or privileges. Though having said that, the country does have three official languages – English, Maori and Sign Language. So, if a Maori is charged with an offence and goes to trial, he can insist that the trial be conducted in Maori, even if none of the court staff speak it! And of course there are social programmes aimed exclusively at Maori in a kind of left-handed, positive discrimination sort of way.

JANE:  I love that Sign Language is included…  But I’ll resist a tangent and stay on the point.

Certainly the reservation system can lead to isolation, if that is what the residents prefer.  However, many Native Americans live and work within the general population.  Two of Jim’s and my neighbors are Indians.  Jim works with several other Indians.  On his last project, his crew included one Comanche/Santa Clara and one Navajo/Zuni.  As this shows, the tribes frequently intermarry both within themselves and with non-Indians.

Although this has led to some sharing of cultural traditions, it hasn’t eliminated the sense of distinct nations any more than a French woman marrying an Italian man would dissolve their cultural identities.

ALAN: That’s just as true here – intermarriage between Maori and pakeha is very common and both share many cultural traditions. Nevertheless, Maori retain a distinct cultural and spiritual heritage of their own. Obviously it is based on the language that all Maori share (Te Reo) but many other aspects are also alive and well and positively encouraged and respected by all sides.

JANE: I don’t see what’s “obvious” about it being based in the language.  Reason I say this is that my mother is part Italian.  She doesn’t speak a word of the language, but that doesn’t keep her from identifying with Italian culture, to the point that she recently fulfilled a lifelong hope to visit Italy and including the area her grandparents came from.

ALAN: Maori regard Te Reo as something that identifies and defines them. Without it, they are diminished. In the mid-twentieth century, Maori children were punished at school if they were caught speaking the language. As a direct result of this, both the language and the culture almost died out. Each requires and depends upon the other. They really are seen as two sides of exactly the same coin.

These days the pendulum has swung almost to the other extreme. In the 1970’s, Maori language pre-schools started to appear. They are known as kohanga reo (there’s that word again) and have been very successful. However, when the pre-schoolers entered the mainstream educational system, they often started to forget their language…

So in the 1980s, total language immersion schools started to appear. They are known as kura kaupapa maori and are designed specifically to promote and revitalize the language and culture. There’s even a TV channel  (also called Te Reo) that broadcasts exclusively in Maori and presents shows based firmly in Maori cultural ideas.

JANE: Wow!  That’s interesting.  We had similar problems with native languages being lost.  However, since there are so many more indigenous people here, a program such as the one you mention would not be practical.

I think we need to step back and define the term “pakeha.”  As I recall, that’s what the Maori call people of European extraction, right?  I did some research on New Zealand for a short story (“Pakeha,” published in Freedom, edited by Martin H. Greenberg and Mark Tier) and I learned that much, but I don’t think I ever found out what the word means.

ALAN: It’s an odd word, and there is still some argument about what it means.  It has been in use since at least the early nineteenth century and possibly before. Nobody really knows where it comes from, but Te Ara – The Encyclopedia of New Zealand – suggests that it might derive from pakepakeha (imaginary spiritual beings resembling men) or pakehakeha (one of the sea gods). Both terms might easily be applied to the original European explorers who, I imagine, took the Maori rather by surprise when they first appeared.

JANE: No kidding!  Go on…

ALAN: On the other hand, Te Ara also suggests that the word might be related to keha (a flea) or poaka (a pig). The article goes on to say, rather drily, that use of the work pakeha is “in no way derogatory”.

Many New Zealanders of European ancestry have adopted the term enthusiastically. I’m very proud and happy to refer to myself as a pakeha. But some people do object to its use. The census asks people to identify their ethnicity, and the word pakeha is noticeably absent from the list of choices it presents. The word was used in one census but there were so many complaints that it has been replaced with the phrase “New Zealand European.”

JANE: Interesting…  Again, in the U.S., we don’t have any similar word.  Here in New Mexico, those who are neither Indian nor Spanish tend to be clumped together as “Anglos” – never mind that many of those “Anglos” have no tie to England at all.  I’ve even heard people of African extraction referred to as “Anglos” or “black Anglos.”

ALAN: That’s a bit mind boggling!

JANE: That’s New Mexico in a nutshell.  Boggling!

What Came From an Idea

Last week I did my best to give an answer to that perennial question: “Where do you get your ideas?”  At that point, I was still seeing if the idea would become a story and I promised to give you folks an honest report.

Inspiration and story

Well, I’m happy to say that the process was a productive one.  As you may recall, I actively wrote right up until Friday evening.  Then I decided to use the weekend to think my way through a few elements that hadn’t quite jelled.  Now, some of you may be thinking that this is in violation of my claim not to outline.  It isn’t.  I was musing, not outlining.

Also, this story had rather special circumstances.  Perhaps you may remember that for several months I was involved with an art contest my friend Scot Noel decided to sponsor on his website.  (See WW 1-29-14, “Cover Art Contest,” if you want to refresh your memory.)

My contributions involved contributing the second place prize and promising to write a short story based on one of the winning pieces.  The story would be made available as a free download through Scot’s site.  I also ended up participating in a series of chats with Scot about the contest itself.  Our emphasis in these chats was on how we, as writers, reacted in a different fashion to the judges (all of whom were visual artists).  You can see the art and our discussions at www.SFFcontest.com

Anyhow, the picture I chose to write my story around was the first place winner, “Apocalypse Book” by Hugh Edby.  A lot of the musing I did over that intervening weekend involved going over the picture with the mental equivalent of a magnifying glass, seeking small details that I might work into the story.  When I settled down to write again, the story moved along quite briskly for several pages, then I found myself slowing down.

Shutting off my computer, I wandered off and started reading about the various members of the first version of the psychedelic rock group, Jefferson Airplane.  I learned a long time ago that trying to force a story is about as useful as banging my head against a wall and just about as painful.  (See WW 8-11-10, “Walking Away From It” if you’d like a bit more about this.)  What I have found is that if I distract myself – by reading or doing routine chores – often I come up with an answer.

This time the answer came pretty promptly.  I was moving into a sad part of the story and I didn’t feel like going there.  I meditated, but felt the story would lose its heart if I came up with different material.  So I kept on writing.  The Muse rewarded me for my perseverance, coming up with an ending I didn’t expect at all…

I’ll leave it there.  No spoilers.

I’ll be sure to let you know when the story – its working title is “Born From Memory” – is available.

Now what next?  Well, Wanderings on Writing needs a final go-over, then it’s off to be converted into an e-book.  When that’s done?  I have a few plans…  Now, however, the garden produce is taking over my countertops.  Time to go fuss with it.  Doubtlessly while I do so, I’ll be thinking about stories.

I’m curious…  What do you other creative people do between projects to recharge?  How do you court inspiration when you’re just a little stuck?

Second Fragment

Hi!  A brief introduction to newcomers to this feature…  This Friday Fragment is a list of what I’ve read over the past week.  It is not meant to be a recommendation list.  If you’re interested in a not-at-all-inclusive list, you can look on my website.

 This is also also not a book review column.  It’s just a list with, maybe, a few opinions tossed in.

Enjoy!

Heap of Books

Recently Completed:

An Aria of Omens by Patrice Greenwood.  This third in her “Wisteria Tearoom Mysteries” might be the strongest.  I enjoyed the use of the Santa Fe Opera as a setting.  As a bonus, two original recipes – one for a cocktail, one for a dessert, are included.  I want an Aria Cake now!

Corto Maltese: The Ballad of the Salt Sea by Hugo Pratt.  Many years ago, Roger Zelazny turned me on to the Corto Maltese graphic novels.  They’re weird and wonderful, managing to seamlessly blend hard historical realities and mystic adventure.  I always thought there was a story pre-dating the collections Roger sent me, even though the first one in the set (The Brazilian Eagle) was neatly labeled “1.”  Imagine my delight and surprise when, while searching the shelves at my public library for something else entirely, I came across this.  In some ways this volume is not as strong as some of the later stories, either in art or plot, but it’s still a great adventure tale.

Reading it led me to pulling out the other eight graphic novels, published by NBM, and starting re-reading.  I’m up to number seven out of eight…

Recast by Seung Hui Kye.   This Korean manga starts out seeming a little too much like those shonen (boy’s) manga that are thinly disguised adaptations of video games.  However, I was interested enough by the end of the first three volumes to order the remaining three that our library has in stock.

Lean Mean Thirteen by Janet Evanovich.  Audiobook.

Twelve Sharp by Janet Evanovich.  Audiobook.  This may be one of the best in that Stephanie Plum puts herself on the line for Ranger, rather than waiting for him to pull her out of trouble.  A nice bit of character development.

Kim by Rudyard Kipling.  Audiobook, superlatively read by Margaret Hilton.  Often touted as the first spy novel, it’s so, so much more…

In Progress:

Border Ambush by Melody Groves.

Got A Revolution: The Turbulent Flight of Jefferson Airplane by Jeff Tamarkin.  Jim and I recently watched a documentary.  I decided I wanted to learn a little more.

Days of Blood And Starlight by Laini Taylor.  Audiobook.  I listened to the first book in the series, Daughter of Smoke and Bone, a couple months ago.

And, as mentioned above, the final two volumes of Corto Maltese.

Within the Last Couple Months:

Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo Anaya.  Whenever Southwestern Spanish literature is mentioned, this book is sure to come up.  I found it very slow to get started, as if the author felt he needed to anchor the eventual mystical material very solidly in little boy snot and piss.  However, by the time I was finished, I was glad I’d taken the time to read it.

TT: Magic, Miracles, and Mayhem

Looking for the Wednesday Wandering?  Just page back one for an excursion into the mysterious realm of Ideas.  Then join me and Alan as we discuss a historical occurrence that, if it weren’t true, no one would ever believe.   And remember, tomorrow, the Friday Fragments continue the fun.

ALAN: Last time you promised to tell me about the Pueblo Revolt of 1680.

A Church Destroyed

JANE: Right!  Here goes… The story begins in 1675, when fourteen Spaniards, several of whom were friars, died in the village of Powhogeh, which was called San Ildefonso by the Spanish.  The deaths were blamed on witchcraft and forty-seven men were arrested, tried, and punished.

Maybe the Spanish really believed that witchcraft had been used.  I’ve read translations of some of the trial records and it’s impossible to tell.  Remember, this was a time when witch hunts were rampant in Spain.  Whatever he believed, Governor Juan de Treviño unwittingly set in motion events that would lead to the revolt five years later.

You see, the forty-seven men arrested were not all from Powhogeh.  They were not even all from Tewa-speaking villages.  (Tewa is one of the five main languages spoken in the region.)  Among those arrested were Tiwa and Keresan speakers, from groups that were, at best, uneasy allies with the people of Powhogeh.  Four of these men – quite possibly strangers to each other and so unlikely collaborators – were sentenced to be hanged as examples.  (One robbed the hangman by committing suicide.)  The remainder were sentenced to be whipped and otherwise humiliated.

What the men did have in common were that all were important members of their communities.  One theory is that Francisco Guitar, who had served as guide and interpreter for the Spanish sent to investigate the deaths, decided to get even with his fellow Tewa, who now shunned him as a collaborator with their oppressors.  For good measure, Guitar had pointed out a few other important men.  And so the stage was set.

ALAN: If I may go off on a little bit of a tangent here, I’d never heard of Tewa until you started telling me about this history. But just this morning I read A Story, With Beans by Steven Gould, and Tewa was an important element in the plot. Life is full of funny coincidences…

Sorry! I interrupted. Just ignore me.

JANE: That’s cool.  I’ve seen a lot of Steve Gould lately…  We did a signing together, then Bubonicon.  But I stray…

There seems little doubt that Governor Treviño would have carried out his intended punishment, but a very large delegation from the local tribes, led by a man named Saca from Teotho (called Taos by the Spanish) intervened.  The record says that Saca and his delegation brought gifts, but also that they made clear they would have fought if those gifts had not been accepted and the captives freed.

Among those arrested and publically whipped was Po’pay, a priest and leader among the people of Ohkay (called by the Spanish, San Juan Pueblo).  Because of the Spanish’s proclivity for recordkeeping, we know a lot about the events of 1675.  What exactly happened next is more open to speculation because – obviously – the Spanish didn’t know the details of the revolt being planned against them.

However, Po’pay – working with Saca and others – managed to coordinate a revolt that would remove the Spanish from New Mexico for the next twelve years.  The feat boggles the mind.  Do me a favor and pull out map of New Mexico so you have some idea of how large the area we’re talking about is.  Got it?

ALAN: (Geographically challenged Alan hunts vainly for an atlas). I know I’ve got one somewhere…

Got it! OK – Now all I have to do is find New Mexico…

Phew! (Geographically challenged Alan relaxes).

Did I ever tell you about the time I really did get lost walking from the bedroom to the bathroom? It’s a true, and very embarrassing, story. Perhaps that’s a tangent best not explored. Tell me about New Mexico instead.

JANE: Hmm…  I may ask for that story off-stage.  (I did.  Oh, my!)  But back to New Mexico.

Now, remember, New Mexico isn’t a green and pleasant land.  It’s dry and rocky, with temperatures that go well above 100 degrees Fahrenheit in the summer and well below freezing in the winter.  There’s no hopping a boat for easy travel between points.  At the time Po’pay and his allies were planning their rebellion, the horses were largely owned by the enemy and those who collaborated with them – so travel would have been on foot.

Despite this, Po’pay coordinated a revolt that – if one put it in a novel – the critics would be screaming about the unrealistic nature of the details.  Just a few include forging a successful alliance between peoples who spoke five different languages and had different cultures (and that includes religious beliefs), the use of a knotted cord to synchronize attacks so that the uprisings happened simultaneously across the region, and the defeat of armored men armed with higher tech weapons (muskets, swords), by unarmored warriors with clubs and short bows.

ALAN: I could make a facetious comment, but that is so awe-inspiring that I wouldn’t dare cheapen it by doing so. It really beggars belief and I am truly astonished and amazed. Real life trumps fiction every time. But sometimes real life is hard to believe.

JANE:  It gets better!  There are some other details right out of a science fiction novel.  Po’pay was said to have mysterious advisors, whose names do not fit into any of the language groups spoken in the area.  Even better, he was said to have been able to shoot lightning from his fingertips and feet.

I used these details and others in my short story, “Like the Rain” (published in Golden Reflections edited by Joan Saberhagen and Robert Vardeman).  However, this was one of those cases where the inclusion of futuristic high tech intervention actually made more sense than leaving it out.

ALAN: Now that I’ve willingly suspended my disbelief, tell me what happened afterwards.

JANE: The Spanish were kept out of New Mexico for twelve years.  Later, they claimed a “bloodless” re-conquest, aided by the intervention of the Virgin Mary who performed miracles, including aiding the Spanish in getting their heavy wagons up La Bajada hill.  This would indeed have been a tremendous help to an invading force.  Even today, with a modern highway, large vehicles pull to a special slow lane to labor up La Bajada.  The Spanish with their ox carts would have been very vulnerable.

The wooden image of the Virgin, now called “La Conquistadora,” remains enshrined in Santa Fe and is paraded through the streets during the annual Fiesta.

However, although the re-conquest was far from the bloodless victory the Spanish claimed, it was not as devastating as it might have been, either for the Spanish or for the native peoples.  Most historians agree that the native peoples could not agree how to live once the Spanish were gone.  Some purists – Po’pay among them – wanted to eliminate anything the Spanish had brought with them.  Others had grown to like melons, sheep, and other introduced items.  Christian saints and customs had been absorbed into the local religions.  With all the disagreement among themselves, the Pueblos may have been resigned to the return of the Spanish.

ALAN: Much like the Maori who enthusiastically adopted Christianity, and alcohol and firearms and potatoes and warm clothes and who have no desire at all to go back to the old days – though Maori pride in their history and heritage is a very real phenomenon and they certainly do try hard to keep the old traditions alive. Nevertheless, they are also very much twenty-first century citizens.

JANE: Based on the Comments these last several weeks, there’s lots of interest in the impact on colonialism on the cultures of the indigenous people of both New Zealand and New Mexico.  Maybe we can take a look at that next time!

Whence Came an Idea

First…  For those of you who missed it, I’ve started a new feature on this site: the Friday Fragments.  I intend this to be a weekly list of what I read or am reading, perhaps with some commentary.  Hope you’ll take a look at it.

Now for the main feature…

Inspiration comes in odd packages.  Every writer knows this, but this week I had a really vivid example this week that I want to share.

Darynda Reveals the Truth

If there’s a question that writers hear more than any other, it’s “Where do you get your ideas?”  I’ve heard answers both flippant and serious – including a simply wonderful one in the short essay Darynda Jones included in her talk for the Jack Williamson Lectureship, which I encountered reprinted in the Bubonicon program book.

The piece was set up as a mock question and answer session.

The question (from Crystal) was “You have several explicit scenes in your books.  Do you draw from personal experience to write them?”

The answer followed: “Yes, Crystal.  Yes, I do.  Why else would I keep my husband around?  All authors do everything in their books in the name of research.  I’m actually shelved under mystery and most if not all mystery authors have committed murder.  It’s not like we can just go ask someone.  It’s not like we can go to some magical place where they have lots of books and find answers.  It’s not like we can look it up on some shiny box with a keyboard.  We have to experience this stuff first hand to be able to write about it.”  (Darynda Jones is the author of the Charley Davidson books, several of which I have read and enjoyed.  You can learn more at http://www.daryndajones.com.)

In case you aren’t familiar with her work and don’t realize that she’s very funny, Darynda meant this humorously.  However, it is amazing how many readers do think a writer has done everything that happens in their books – or if not done it, at least daydreamed about it.  I guess it’s the influence of that old “write what you know” thing, combined with English teachers who insist on teaching fiction as if it’s nothing more than thinly veiled autobiography.

But I’ve promised you my own latest “Where I got my idea…” anecdote.  It’s not as funny, but it’s for real.  This past weekend, Jim went out of town to visit his parents.  For various reasons, I had to stay home.  And, no, none of these reasons include not liking my in-laws.  I do.  A lot.

So as the week went on, I felt sadder and sadder, contemplating that Friday morning would see me driving Jim to the airport, then watching him walk off through Security without me.  I comforted myself with the idea that he’d be home quickly.  In fact, Sunday mid-afternoon would see me at the same place, waiting eagerly to catch a glimpse of him coming up through the walkway.

Wednesday night, after I had crawled into bed and was listening to Jim finishing off his end of the evening routine (okay, and was thinking how quiet the house would be Friday night, I admit it), an idea popped into my head.  I found myself wondering about places that are continuously charged with emotion.  I mean, everyone talks about how murder scenes have bad vibes.  But what about places that are continually bombarded with emotions?  Airports, funeral parlors, churches, sports arenas, hospitals…

When I had finished my manuscript for the forthcoming non-fiction Wanderings on Writing, I’d switched over to seeing if I could come up with an idea to fulfill one of the projects to which I’d promised a short story.  I’d done a lot of scattered reading and brainstorming, but nothing had jelled.  Now this had come, answer to a prayer.

I was too beat to get up, but I grabbed a piece of paper from the notepad next to the phone and scribbled a few lines.  These weren’t because I was worried I’d forget – the idea was now solidly rooted in my imagination – but to give my mind permission to let go so I could get some sleep.

The next day, despite noisy construction right outside the office window – we’ve finally had the sunporch roof repaired! – I started writing.  The first day I managed about five pages.  The next day, I took these basics and loosened them up, adding more dialogue and getting rid of the summary.  I only added another page or so, but now I could see the story’s shape.

Aside: Recently, I was re-reading a few of my older never-sold stories.  Partly, I was looking to see if there was anything I could use, partly I was looking to see if – given all the attention I’d just put into Wanderings on Writing – I might have an insight into why these stories hadn’t “worked.”  As I read through these efforts, many of them more than twenty years old, I realized that in many cases these pieces never went beyond the “Idea” and became a full-blown Story.  It was as if I had sprouted seeds but never put them into the right sort of containers or given them the right care to enable them to flourish.  Often they had a good central character or interesting setting, but not enough plot.

Anyhow, by Friday afternoon, I came to a natural stopping point.  I had a few questions for myself.  I decided to mull over the weekend, with the intention of resuming on Tuesday.  (I planned to take Monday off to play with Jim, since I’d have him back again.)  The mulling worked.  Next week I’ll try to remember to tell you if the story got finished…

But whether or not the story works, I had that golden moment where an Idea came and took root.  Would it have done so if I hadn’t already been receptive?  Possibly.  Like most writers, I have a list of ideas that I hope will someday fit into a story.  However, in this case, I think there was synergy between my mental state and the parameters for the short story I needed to write.

How about you?  Where do you get your ideas?  I know that in addition to writers, we have visual artists and songwriters who occasionally weigh in.  Is the process different with different arts?  Or is it similar and merely takes a different shape in the end?

First Fragment

Welcome to the Friday Fragments, a new and possibly continuing feature on this site.

The Friday Fragments owes its existence to a question I was asked at Bubonicon 46 in 2014.  I was chatting with some folks at the Afternoon Tea when one lady asked: “Do you read?”

Ready to Read

I expect I looked blank.   For a moment, I thought she might be asking me if I could read, but that didn’t make any sense.  Then I thought she might be asking if I was willing to continue or repeat the reading from Artemis Invaded I’d given on the previous Friday afternoon.

Then it sunk in that she’d really asked if I read.  Fumbling a little, I replied: “I do.  Voraciously.  Enthusiastically.  All the time.”

She nodded.  “I wondered.  Sometimes I have the impression that professional writers don’t have time to read or that they avoid reading, except for research, or that they avoid certain sorts of books when they’re writing.”

This took us off into a lively discussion. It also made me decide that it might be fun to share every week what I was reading.  This list is not to be taken as recommendations.  If you want recommendations, you can find a not-at-all-inclusive list on my website.

I plan to limit myself to listing the title and author of what I read the previous week, maybe with a few comments.  I’m going to include audiobooks, because there are times when the majority of my reading takes place in audio form.  (I listen to audiobooks when doing chores, crafts, and the like, so the more I’m doing these, the more I’m listening.)

 If I’m in the middle of a book, I’ll list that, since sometimes, especially with a very long novel, the reading may spread out over several weeks.  Unless I spend a lot of time on them, I’m going to skip magazines and short articles.

For the first few weeks, I’m going to include a few titles from previous weeks, just because.

Here goes!

Recently Completed:

Abadon’s Gate by James S.A. Corey.  This is the third of their (the author’s name is a pen name for Daniel Abraham and Ty Franke) “Expanse” novels.   Keeps the close focus on characters that won me over to the series.  This one got dark enough that I couldn’t read it before bed, so it took me a while to finish.

Black Butler by Yana Toboso, issues 12 and 13.  I’ve been reading this manga for some weeks now.   I like it enough to keep reading.

Colour Scheme by Ngaio Marsh.  Audiobook.  Mystery by one of the classic greats.  This novel is one of the rare ones set in New Zealand.  (Another is Died in the Wool, which I listened to a few weeks ago.)

Scales of Justice by Ngaio Marsh.  Audiobook.

In Progress:

Aria of Omens by  Patrice Greenwood.  The third of her “Wisteria Tearoom” mysteries.  These are light, but not shallow.  The mysteries serve as a window into the complicated culture of contemporary Santa Fe, so “whydunnit” is as crucial than “who.”

Lean Mean Thirteen by Janet Evanovich.   Audiobook.  Snappy dialogue, excellently presented by reader Lorelei King made me decide to re-listen to some of these.  I listened to numbers nine, ten, and eleven a few weeks ago.

Within the Last Couple Months:

Mr. Lazarus and Other Stories by Paul Dellinger. This collection spans stories dating from January 1962 to February 2013. The stories are fun, often drawing on the author’s fondness for old westerns and movie serials.  His introduction, within which he comments from a very personal perspective on the evolution of short-form SF/F publishing over the past fifty years, is a gem.

Don’t forget to check out the Wednesday Wanderings and Thursday Tangents!