Showing posts with label Myth in literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Myth in literature. Show all posts

Friday, November 23, 2012

Conlanging for Beginners: Building a Naming Language for Your Fantasy Novel

[Follow this up with an addendum: Conlanging for Beginners, Some Things to Avoid]       

As a member of the Language Creation Society and of the Yahoo conculture forum, I've been discussing world-building and conlang-building lately.  I've also joined the forum at the excellent website Mythic Scribes, which is subtitled "The Art of Fantasy Storytelling."  They have many resources available, including a thread on building conlangs for your book.  Since I've composed two conlangs and several naming languages for my writings, I thought a post drawing upon my own experiences as a beginner might help out other beginners.
       First, let me stress that you don't need to be a professor of linguistics to write a conlang.  A lot of the members of the LCS are just that; they know every subtlety of language and they know  the lingo.  They're so learned that they can be a little intimidating, I'll confess.  I'm not a professional linguist, but I have studied Spanish, French, and German (French is the one I pursued the most deeply) and when I was cataloging books as a librarian, I dabbled in several other languages, including Russian, other Slavic languages, and Swedish (catalog librarians have to be able to handle any language -- there are manuals to help you do this).  I also investigated Hebrew a little bit at one point.  I've always been fascinated by languages and syntax.  If you find these subjects tedious and you never took a beginning language in high school and you barely squeaked through high school English and can't remember a thing about its structure, you may not be very successful at writing conlangs.  It's possible to get somebody else to write one for you if you're serious.
 
       However, if all you need is a naming language (a minimal conlang that consists simply of sounds thrown together, without contructing any syntax), you can still manage to do that convincingly.  Let's assume you're setting out to write a fantasy laid in an imaginary world where nobody ever heard of English.  You may have several different countries and several different peoples.  These peoples probably speak different languages, but you can have them all speak a common language -- a language of diplomacy, say -- in which case you can just render everything in English and be done with it. 
       But even then, you will have many names that remain in the languages of those countries.  You need names for the countries themselves and their citizens, for some of their cities, and for other places like rivers or mountain ranges.  You might also find yourself needing names of foods and flowers and minerals and gods and philosophical concepts. You can just unsystematically make up nonsense words for these, or you can try to systematically diffentiate the several languages of your countries.
       One way to do this is to make up a system of phonology for each language.  Just some notes will serve (I'm avoiding the International Phonetic Alphabet here):  Let's say the country of Talasu speaks Talasian.  So you decide that what makes the language different is that it has no voiced fricatives. 
       What is a voiced fricative, you say?  In a voiced consonant the vocal cords vibrate, in an unvoiced consonant, the vocal cords do not vibrate.  Here is a list of voiced fricatives in English (with examples): v (as in van), th (as in then), z (as in zip), zh (as in pleasure).  The corresponding unvoiced fricatives are f (as in fan), th (as in thin), s (as in sip), and sh (as in pressure).   Say them out loud and you'll hear and feel the difference.
       Thus you would be able to milk a little comedy by making a name (e.g., Zazavi) in a language that uses voiced fricatives.  A native of Talasu would pronounce the word "Sasafi" and might get teased about it, or he might be discriminated against because his speech patterns reveal where he comes from, thus becoming a shibboleth.
       From the rules, you know that the word "Talasian" will not be pronounced "Talazhian" but "Talassian."  But this introduces another point.  If you make the language "Talasian," you are making use of an English suffix -ian, which we use frequently in words like Italian, Indian, Canadian, Australian, etc.  Suffixes and prefixes like -ian  or -ed or un- are called morphemes (an indivisible basic particle, a building block for a word).
       Your imaginary people would never build their words using English morphemes, so you might want to call your language Talasunta (where the suffix -nta means "speech" or "language.")  Or you could call it Nis-Talashu (where "nis" means "language" and "Talashu" is a genitive case, thus making the word mean "Language of Talasu."  In your other countries' languages, if you needed a genitive case, you would construct it differently. 
       For my purposes here, I'll call the language "Talasunta."
       I find I can't write even about a naming language without getting into some minor linguistic terminology. But I hope you get my point -- set a few phonetic rules, make them vary among your languages, and don't use any morphemes (basic word particles) that are found in English.

       Now, I'll confess -- I have usually violated the rule of devising the phonology first!  I've always just thrown a bunch of sounds together to start with.  And I've gotten in trouble, too.  When I started writing "The Termite Queen," I had to name my dying termite right off (see sample chapters 1 and 2 on my other blog, Ruminations of a Remembrancer.) because the first line in the book is "My name is ... "  So I blithely thought, "What would be a good name?  I know!  Ti'shra!"  And I wrote "My name is Ti'shra." Then when I got to working out the details of the language, I thought, "So what does 'Ti'shra' mean?  I know!  Sweet Flowers!  Lovely!  Perfect name for this harmless little creature who gets abducted by aliens!" 
       But then I thought, "So 'flowers' is plural.  What element of the name makes it plural?  I know!  In the Shshi language, prefixing sh- makes a plural, just like with the word 'Shshi.'  You have one Shi, two Shshi."  And I stuck myself with that system.  Unfortunately, in English the combination of sh plus certain consonants doesn't occur and so leads to difficulties of pronunciation.  When we get the Shshi word "shza'zei|" for example, which means "little ones," you're likely to spit all over your computer trying to pronounce it!   Other tough combinations are sh+f, sh+d, sh+h, sh+j ... you get my point. 
       So another rule is, try to think about the consequences of a rule before you set it in stone!

       Names often mean something, like my "Ti'shra," and all words derive from older roots, so you have to decide -- do my names of people, provinces, cities, mountains, rivers, etc., have meanings apart from themselves?  If so, you need to decide how the component parts fit together.  Maybe the country of Talasu has a range of mountains called the Black Jaws (obviously you're going to make something sinister happen there!)  "Jaw" becomes "frago," "black" is "nat."  You decide that in Talasunta, the adjectives follow the modified word, as in French or Spanish, so your mountain range becomes the "Fragonat." 
       At that point you should begin making a vocabulary list -- extremely important, because there is no way you can remember every word you've used, and as your book gets longer and you create more words, you'll never be able to find them again.
      You should also write out every decision you make regarding syntax, like the rules for placement of adjectives, for how to construct plurals and genitive case, etc. 

       What if you want the people in your world to sometimes speak privately, not using the common language?  You want someone to overhear a few phrases in Talasunta.  You can construct just a few rules and usually you can come up with something that will work.  That's what I did in the beginning with !Ka<tá, the Bird language spoken by my Prf. A'a'ma, the avian alien that plays such an important role in "The Termite Queen."  Mostly what I constructed were expletives (birds apparently curse a lot!) but there are some full sentences, too.   In Chapter 2, he says, "Prf. Jerardo ali ♫hi ♫ko’ó∙wa gi !i po∙atré]” and Kaitrin humorously upbraids him, "Tió’otu!  That’s not nice!  But what’s going on?  You surely didn’t go to all the trouble to contact me just to make fun of one of our colleagues.”
        I don't tell the reader of the book what Prf. A'a'ma's insult meant, but I'll reveal it here: "Prf. Jerardo has dung beetles in his head."  When I first wrote the book, I decided on the English of what I wanted him to say and then I just cooked up some words that sounded like birds might twitter them -- I had done nothing on the phonology yet.  I did come up with some non-English sounds and some characters to represent them, like ∙, which is a cough, and ♫, which is a warble and, as a prefix, makes words plural.  
       But this remark did require devising a third person singular present tense form of the verb "to have."  In English, "to have" is an irregular verb.  Most languages have some irregular verbs, but I decided that in !Ka<tá, "to have, to possess" is regular.  I don't remember whether at that point I decided on a form for the infinitive, which would be "khe'ali."  I think I just  said, "OK, 'ali' sounds good for 'he has'" and went from there. 
       But again, I kept careful notes on what I'd done -- I made a little table of verb forms and started by filling in the 3rd person singular masculine present tense.  At first I had just two or three entries, but later it grew to include all possible forms and tenses and aspects and moods ...  So I stress again, keep records on all grammatical decisions! 

       Now I'll construct an example of Talasunta: The hero hides behind the curtain and he overhears two men talking in that language, which he doesn't understand.  You could just write, "so the Prince rushed off to find the Ambassador, who spoke Talasunta, and repeated the words as near as he was able.  The Ambassador was horrified at what he heard ... "
        But it would be much better this way: "The Prince overheard two men speaking in Talasunta, but all he could catch was "Asolya dimerumu chinsa."  A few moments later, he was consulting the Ambassador, who spoke the native tongue.  And the diplomat was horrified.  "He said, 'We plan to kill her at dawn'!"  That enhances the realism of the story.
       In this language, the subject pronoun is suffixed to the root of the verb, so "asolu" means "to plan" and "asolya" means "we plan."  Infinitives end in -u, so "dimeru"  is "to kill" and "mu" is the objective case of the third person feminine pronoun, which is suffixed to the full infinitive.  "Chin" means "dawn" and the suffix "-sa" is a postposition (the language doesn't have prepositions) meaning "at the time of."
       As you can see, if a conlang, even just a naming language, is done right, there are multifold complications!  But you know what?  Writing a conlang is the most fun of anything in the world, for anybody to whom language is fascinating and not a tedious bore!  Actually, I got quite interested in Talasunta while I was writing this, but conlangs can be very time-consuming, and so I don't think you'll ever learn any more about that language!
 
Summation of How to Write a Naming Language
  • Set up a system of speech sounds (phonology) for each of your languages in order to differentiate them.
  • Never use any morphemes (basic word particles) that are taken directly from in English, or for that matter from any other Earth language. That is, you could use the syllable, but it can't have the same meaning as it does in Earth languages.
  • Try to think about the consequences of a decision before you make it (and that's harder than it sounds!) But this is important, because going back and changing a whole language structure is almost impossible.
  • As you construct words, make a vocabulary list, preferably in two directions, Talasunta to English and English to Talasunta.
  • Keep careful records of rules of syntax, so you won't put adjectives after nouns on p.6 and before nouns on p.300.  (And parenthetically, don't use the same grammatical structure for all your languages.)
  • And if you can work it out, use syntax that resembles English or other Earth languages as little as possible (that's one of the tougher rules to follow, unless you're more familiar than I am with all the languages of the Earth). 
       When I started this, I had intended to talk about the naming language in "Monster Is in the Eye of the Beholder," but I got sidetracked.  Maybe I'll write about that in a later post!


 

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Analysis: Katabasis, by Kathryn Anthony

       The collection of seven short stories by Kathryn Anthony entitled Of Myth and Memory is based on retellings of myth.  I originally reviewed this book on Amazon and Goodreads back in May 2012, but it was impossible to consider all the stories in depth  there.  Since their themes fit my proposal to broaden this blog with discussions of the use of myth in literature, my plan is to discuss at least three of these stories over the coming weeks.  Today we’ll talk about “Katabasis.”
       The author is a strong writer with a fine command of the English language.  Two highlights of this collection are her ability to create mood and atmosphere and to turn a metaphorical phrase.  Here are a couple of examples from “Katabasis”: “She heard a distant, brittle clash of laughter, like shards of dawn, splintering and smashing into a fine, crystalline powder.”  He was grappling with a dilemma, his gaze touching on her brows, her lips, her chin, like the feather-light explorations of a blind man’s fingers.”) 
       Here is what the author herself says about this story in her book description: “‘Katabasis’ is a narrative of rivalry, loss and sacrifice that blends motifs of Snow White with the myth of Inanna's descent into the Underworld.”  The term “katabasis” derives from the Greek words meaning “a going down” or “descent.”  It can mean a military march from the interior of a country to the coast, but in mythological usage it means a descent into the underworld.  Its opposite is “anabasis,” the return from the underworld, which (Wikipedia points out) is essential to creating a “katabasis” rather than merely a death.  The descent into the underworld is a ubiquitous element of epic myth, occurring in everything from the Odyssey to Dante,  and it plays a central role here.
       I must confess the allusions to the Snow White theme rather eluded me at first.  My knowledge of the theme was pretty much restricted to childhood viewings of the Disney version, so I had to do some homework, including reading the original Grimm version, which can be viewed at http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type0709.html#snowwhite. 
       It happens that I’ve explored Sumerian myth before, with a view to basing a piece of fiction on it.  However, that was back in 1983, right at the time when family problems caused me to give up writing.  In preparation for this post, I pulled out all my old notes (this was in pre-computer days), but I find that even though the notes and copies of material are extensive, they don’t make much sense to me now, so I did some exploring on Google.  If you want to read a translation of the original myth of Inanna and the Underworld, go to http://etcsl.orinst.ox.ac.uk/section1/tr141.htm (part of The Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature, based at the University of Oxford).  For a paraphrase and psychological interpretation of the myth, go to http://www.halexandria.org/dward385.htm (an interesting, New-Agey sort of site).
       “Katabasis” opens with a premise of blood related to “Snow White”:  “All that business about the ebony windowsill, the white snow, the embroidery needle – nonsense, all of it.  The one true thing about that story was the blood. … Blood is life.  … We’re born on its slippery tide and when that tide ebbs out of us … that’s when we die.”  And then immediately we learn that “Elana” (as Anthony calls her “Inanna” character) is Queen of the Wolves – she’s a werewolf.  A new element is introduced that is not present in either myth. 
       After all, what becomes of ancient goddesses when the world moves away from belief in them?  Any goddess worth her salt ought to be able to shape-shift, so an introduction of a werewolf identity isn’t so odd as it may at first appear.
       Furthermore, she’s a modern woman.  We’re never told whether her husband or any acquaintance has the least inkling that this person they live with is also an ancient goddess.  And this modern woman and primitive Great Goddess is about to undergo egg extraction because she can’t get pregnant:  “Elana, Queen of the Wolves, watched as the nurse pricked the back of her hand with the i.v. needle.  Before the other woman could connect the needle to the drip, blood spurted out of the puncture and onto the downy white sheet covering the hospital bed.”  And so we continue the opening of “Snow White.”
       Later in the tale, Elana’s child is stolen from her womb by her sister, Ereshkigal, the Queen of the Underworld (whose name is retained in its common transcription), as payment of a debt and the distraught Elana assumes her wolf form and flees to the forest (an element of the Snow White tale), not to escape an evil queen but to learn how to find and defeat one.  She ends up being rescued by seven woodsman – conflating the dwarves with the Huntsman.  These people can give her the answer she is seeking:  Can anybody be brought back from the underworld?  The answer is yes, but there will always be a price to pay.  Elana dies in childbirth and in so doing initiates a final ironic plot twist that means a good deal more if you are familiar with the Inanna myth.
       The main elements of the Inanna myth that Anthony keeps are the need to enter the underworld, the ritual shedding of garments as Elana passes through the gates, and the birth pangs of Ereshkigal.  Anthony omits many elements, such as Inanna’s death in the underworld and her resuscitation by spirits who take the form of carrion flies.  She also adds elements, such as the emotional price that must be paid at each gate of the underworld in addition to the shedding of garments.  But that’s what you do when you use myth as a foundation for a story of your own: you add and subtract elements to gain a new perspective.
       One other aspect of the myth is retained.  When Inanna returns from the underworld, she must send someone to take her place.  She ends up sending her husband Dumuzi, who had remained largely indifferent to her absence.  In Anthony’s version, Elana’s husband meets a fate that is different but ironically related to what happens in the myth (I can’t really discuss it because I don’t want to spoil the end of the story).
       What makes Kathryn Anthony’s approach so interesting is her ability to seamlessly conflate primitive mythic and folkloric elements with everyday modern life.  She moves among worlds with only minimal transitions, or none at all.  Here are a couple of examples:
       Elana in her wolf form is being nursed back to health by the seven Woodsmen, who are also caring for a seven-year-old boy named Alex:  “It was Eoain’s turn to keep Alex entertained – the plan, from what Elana could infer, was to take the lad to IKEA to play in the ball room, while Eowain picked up a few items, including a pet bed for her.”
       What could set the story more firmly in the modern world than that? – unless it’s this:
       Elana stands before the first gate of the underworld.  “She had donned her full ceremonial regalia: crown, scepter, mantle and gown.  The jewels studded into her breastplate gleamed dully under the compact fluorescent bulbs mounted above the gate – even the underworld was subject to cost cutting imperatives, it would seem.”
       All the tales in Of Myth and Memory are fascinating reads that require some work to appreciate properly.  They get better on the second or even third reading, and they benefit from having some background knowledge.  I recommend them for anyone who likes to probe depths.  The book is available at http://amzn.to/QekB0t

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

A Re-Post of Characters and Elements Found in Myth and Folklore


THIS POST IS PART OF THE POST-RESURRECTION BLOG HOP!
 
The following piece was first posted on 5/31/12 and I think it deserves more than the 10 page views it's garnered.  Odd, because the subsequent two posts, The Legends of Troy and How to Convert Greek Names into the Shshi Language, received 37 and 41 views.
 
       I got the idea of sending my termites out on an epic journey, complete with all the bells and whistles, out of the blue as I was finishing up "The Termite Queen." I wish I could say that the idea came from a learned source like Joseph Campbell's theories of the Hero's Journey and such, but instead I think the source was much more of a pop culture phenomenon. I was a big fan of "Xena: Warrior Princess" at the time! In that series (and its predecessor "Hercules," which is much inferior, I think, although I did enjoy Michael Hurst as Iolaus), Greek myth and occasionally myths from other cultures are reworked, processed through a compressed time frame (Caesar is contemporary with Troy, for goodness' sakes!), and given their own fresh interpretations. So that was in my mind at the time.
        But another source has to be Watership Down, which is an epic about rabbits and one of my favorite books of all time. It has all the elements of the heroic journey, told in the context of a rabbit culture here on Earth. My books also have the elements of the heroic journey, told in the context of an isopteroid culture on another planet. As Amb. Tarrant Hergard said upon the occasion of the admission of Earth into the Confederation of Planets: “An ancient Earth adage says, ‘There is nothing new under the sun.’ Perhaps the phrase should now become, ‘There is nothing new among
the stars.’”
        In the article "Epic Poetry" Wikipedia lists the following characteristics of an epic:  
  1. Begins in medias res. [Actually, I don't do that one, unless you consider beginning right after the conclusion of "The Termite Queen" to be in medias res.]
  2. The setting is vast, covering many nations, the world or the universe. [check!]
  3. Begins with an invocation to a muse (epic invocation). [No, not here]
  4. Begins with a statement of the theme. [Umm, not exactly]
  5. Includes the use of epithets. [No, I don't think so.]
  6. Contains long lists (epic catalogue). [Ah, yes -- I subject the reader to epic lists three times throughout the series. One in each of the original volumes. Maybe I can construct lists for the other three! Or maybe not.]
  7. Features long and formal speeches. [At times, when appropriate]
  8. Shows divine intervention on human affairs. [On only two occasions does the Nameless Mother personally poke her antennae into the mix, but the foretellings of Seers prevade the books.]
  9. Features heroes that embody the values of the civilization. [Definitely]
  10. Then there are the stock characters who are encountered in epics. First, of course, you've got the epic hero and ours is ready-made: Ki'shto'ba Huge-Head, the extra-large Da'no'no Shshi Warrior from To'wak. Often this hero is a demigod; whether that's true of Ki'shto'ba you'll have to find out later. The hero has to go on a quest and be tested in some way. So far, so good.
 
        The hero may fall in love, rescue and marry a Princess. (???) Impossible! There are some things sexless termites just can't do! Although there IS one place where Ki'shto'ba rescues a fertile female nymph ...
        The hero must have Companions, be it just a sidekick or a dozen of them. I opted for a dozen.
There is the wandering Bard, who roams the world recounting the deeds of the hero. Here we have Di'fa'kro'mi the Remembrancer, who is also Ki'shto'ba's First Companion.
        Its Second and Third Companions are little Workers -- sidekicks par excellence. Every termite Warrior must have groomers and feeders -- squires, in effect.
        The Fourth Companion is the twin -- a pervasive theme in mythology and one stressed by Robert Graves in his Greek Myths. Hercules had a twin named Iphicles; Ki'shto'ba has one named A'zhu'lo.
        Then there is the trickster. Aren't tricksters fun, though? Reynard the Fox, Coyote, Raven, Loki, Puck, Ariel, Q in StarTrek, Odysseus -- and last but hardly least, El-ahrairah in Watership Down. And right up there with those: Za'dut, the Fifth Companion of Ki'shto'ba -- a Worker but so much more. Its name means two things in the Shshi language: Little Lizard and Little Thief.
        Finally, there are the Seers. Fiver in Watership Down comes to mind. And Greek myth is loaded with Seers, which fits right in with Shshi culture, since every fortress has an Alate who is gifted with Seeing (even if part of it does come from ingesting a hallucinogen). Teiresias, the blind prophet of Thebes, becomes in my tales Thru'tei'ga'ma, the half-blind Seer of To'wak, who sets up the premises of the tale early on. Ki'shto'ba won't acquire a Seer as a Companion until the fifth volume, but different Seers in different places have tremendous influence all the way through the story. How much of their pronouncements are true foretellings and how many are merely self-fulfilling prophecies? Again, you'll have to find out for yourself.


Saturday, July 28, 2012

Calling All Anthropologists, Entomologists, Mythologists, Folklorists, and Linguists!

       This post is a piece of shameless self-promotion!  It's about the type of reader whom I would like to attract -- who I believe would appreciate my writing and enjoy it most.  This reader could be any of the above, as well as non-experts who nevertheless have a curiosity or a passion about those subjects.  Or, in fact, it could be anybody whose interest is piqued by the unusual or the thought-provoking.
       My books vary in their emphasis. The anthropology angle is obvious in the two volumes of "The Termite Queen"; my heroine is an anthropologist, and first-contact situations require an anthropologist's touch.  Anthropology is the central focus in "Monster Is in the Eye of the Beholder."  The plot deals with what can happens when an anthropological investigation goes seriously awry.  The books in the series "The Labors of Ki'shto'ba Huge-Head" are less directly anthropological because they are laid among the extraterrestrial termite race itself and include only peripheral interraction with those meddlesome Star-Beings.  They are more a venture into constructed culture.
       Entomology plays no role in "Monster," but obviously none of the other books could have been written without a study of insects.  The lead male character in "Termite Queen" is an entomologist and the extraterrestrials are giant termites, who have evolved intelligence but still retain many of the imperatives of social insect behavior.  I do have the attention of one leading termite expert, Dr. Timothy G. Myles, who wrote that great University of Toronto website about termites, which is now only available in the Internet Archive.  Dr. Myles really likes my books!  He wrote a 5-star review of "Termite Queen," v.1, at Amazon under the appellation of "Termite Tim."
       When I first started to use Twitter, I tried to attract the attention of anthropologists and entomologists, and I have periodically attempted the same since then, especially with the entomology.  I have never gotten one follow from an anthropologist, and almost nothing from entomology tweeps, except for @BeesinArt, which is very nice about retweeting.  I've also had slight interaction with @AboutInsects, and a few others that I can't recall right now.  But I can't say that any of this has ever gotten me a sale.
       Can it be that anthropologists and entomologists don't read SF or fantasy?  I can't believe that's true of all of them!  Well, all I can say is, they don't know what they're missing! 
       Then there are the mythology people, folklorists, etc.  I can't imagine that people interested in Greek myth or any myth, for that matter, or in epic tales (because later volumes retell certain medieval stories -- it's not all Greek) -- that these people wouldn't be intrigued by retellings of their favorite subjects in such an original  milieu.  Hercules as a giant termite!  The Trojan War fought between termite fortresses!  Achilles a mighty Warrior who is immature, bellicose, and unpredictable, with a secret flaw (doesn't sound so far from the original, does it?)  Hecuba a termite Queen!  Priam an unnaturally warlike King!  Cassandra a mad Alate Seer!  The role of Odysseus played by an audacious trickster Worker!  Aeneas carrying on his back, not his father, but a young King destined to be the founder of a new fortress, just as Aeneas is purported in some myths to be the founder of Rome!  How could anybody interested in myth resist that?  It's so much fun -- it was fun to write, and it will be fun to read!
       Furthermore, while "Termite Queen" doesn't retell a myth directly, one of the great myths of our culture is touched on obliquely in the conclusion of the tale.
       Last but certainly not least, there are the linguists, particularly those who are concerned with conlangs and concultures.  "The Termite Queen" is predicated on a conlang -- Kaitrin Oliva has to write one in order to conceptualize the non-vocal language of the termites.  And that language plays a continuing role in the "Labors" series, with Shshi words often utilized in the text (frequently with explanatory notes).  I have quite a few contacts already in this linguistic area and I hope to build more.
       So maybe this post will attract some attention -- maybe somebody will search the terms in its title and find it and think, Huh, that sounds interesting -- I think I'll have a go at one of her books.  If so, you can read sample chapters of "Stolen Mother" on this blog, or go to Ruminations of a Remembrancer to read chapters of "Termite Queen."  The Amazon link is another place to go - the "Look Inside" function has now been activated on all the books.  And Smashwords has sample downloads on "Monster" and on both volumes of "Termite Queen." 

       Happy reading!  I hope you will enjoy my books as much as I enjoyed writing them!
      


Sunday, June 17, 2012

More Notes on "Labors" - Hercules' Life; and the Use of Footnotes

       I've intended to write a post on the life of Hercules so that people will have some insight into  the basis of the plot in "Labors."  Many people will have heard of the Twelve Labors of Hercules.  I made use some of those in these tales, although certain ones seem off the point (like cleaning the Stables of Augeias, which Hercules accomplished by diverting two rivers through the cattle yard; I could have Ki'shto'ba clean a dung pit in that way, but why?)  What I'm actually doing is using the Twelve Labors as a frame for building the plots.  Ki'shto'ba will have to perform Twelve Wonders; some of them will be adapted versions of the classical Labors and some will be Ki'shto'ba's own. 
       The reason Ki'shto'ba sets out to perform these Wonders is also a little different.  In the classical version, Hercules has been driven mad by Hera and has slain his own children, and so he must perform the Twelve Labors as a penance.  In my version the rationale is quite different.  However, Bai'go'tha the tyrant of To'wak, who sends Ki'shto'ba out on its Labors, is a similar character to Eurystheus (the names both mean "Forces Far Back").  Through the manipulations of the gods, Eurystheus was born before Hercules and thus become the High King of the House of Perseus.  In my version it's the manipulations of a jealous King that causes Bai'go'tha's egg to hatch before Ki'shto'ba's, and it's Bai'go'tha's fear of being supplanted by Ki'shto'ba that causes the Tyrant to send its rival forth.  (But you will find out much later in the series that Ki'shto'ba doesn't escape its own version of the Madness of Hercules.)
       And that's as much as I'm going to tell you.  I've decided that the reader doesn't need to know the myths to appreciate my retellings.  If you are familiar with them, it won't hinder the enjoyment of my version, but if you aren't, you might enjoy it even more, because you won't have a clue as to what's coming next!
       Now a couple of points about my methodology.  I've put these tales into a scholarly framework.  Prf. Kaitrin Oliva from "The Termite Queen" is translating them from Shshi into Inj (English to the 21st-century Earther) and she has supplied with footnotes explaining knotty Shshi usages, cultural points, etc.  A lot of this has already been explained in "The Termite Queen," but undoubtedly many people who haven't read "TQ" will read "Labors" (the author remarks with staunch optimism!)  Therefore, many concepts need re-explaining and facts need restating, like the terms for the seasons, the way Shshi names are formed, the Shshi numbering system, the planet's day-length, etc.  This is accomplished in the footnotes and that means that the early chapters are particularly heavy on footnotes (the load lightens considerably as the work progresses).  Footnotes are not a problem in a printed book, although they do require some careful formatting.  Readers can easily utilize the notes, which will be at the bottom of the page, or ignore them if they choose. 
       It's going to be a real problem in Kindle, since e-text is amorphous and has no paging.  I haven't even looked yet at the options for handling footnotes in Kindle.  I only know that grouping them together at the end of the book would be their death knell, and putting them at the ends of the chapters would be almost as bad.  I don't know if it's possible to insert the notes into the text, but I don't really like that option in any case.  It interrupts the flow of the reading.  So probably I'll put them at the ends of chapters and do some kind of internal link arrangement.  If the reader wants to see the note, he can click on the superscript number, and then reverse the process to come back. 
       That's really going to be time-consuming to format.  Consequently, I've about decided to stop publishing on Smashwords.  It's just going to take too long to format all this twice.  If I don't publish on Smashwords, I may (at least, I'm going to think about it) try putting "War of the Stolen Mother" on the KDP Select program, at least for awhile.  I just checked and you're allowed to publish in print form at the same time.  Of course, that's my preferred option, anyway.

I'm also thinking about what sample chapters ought to be posted on this blog.  Stay tuned about that!



Thursday, May 31, 2012

Characters and Elements Found in Myth and Folklore

       I got the idea of sending my termites out on an epic journey, complete with all the bells and whistles, out of the blue as I was finishing up "The Termite Queen."  I wish I could say that the idea came from a learned source like Joseph Campbell's theories of the Hero's Journey and such, but instead I think the source was much more of a pop culture phenomenon.  I was a big fan of "Xena: Warrior Princess" at the time!  In that series (and its predecessor "Hercules," which is much inferior, I think, although I did enjoy Michael Hurst as Iolaus), Greek myth and occasionally myths from other cultures are reworked, processed through a compressed time frame (Caesar is contemporary with Troy, for goodness' sakes!), and given their own fresh interpretations.  So that was in my mind at the time.
       But another source has to be Watership Down, which is an epic about rabbits and one of my favorite books of all time.  It has all the elements of the heroic journey, told in the context of a rabbit culture here on Earth.  My books also have the elements of the heroic journey, told in the context of an isopteroid culture on another planet.  As Amb. Tarrant Hergard said upon the occasion of the admission of  Earth into the Confederation of Planets:  “An ancient Earth adage says, ‘There is nothing new under the sun.’  Perhaps the phrase should now become, ‘There is nothing new among
the stars.’”
       In the article "Epic Poetry" Wikipedia lists the following characteristics of an epic:
  1. Begins in medias res.  [Actually, I don't do that one, unless you consider beginning right after the conclusion of "The Termite Queen" to be in medias res.]
  2. The setting is vast, covering many nations, the world or the universe.  [check!]
  3. Begins with an invocation to a muse (epic invocation).  [No, not here]
  4. Begins with a statement of the theme.  [Umm, not exactly]
  5. Includes the use of epithets.  [No, I don't think so.]
  6. Contains long lists (epic catalogue). [Ah, yes -- I subject the reader to epic lists three times throughout the series.  One in each of the original volumes.  Maybe I can construct lists for the other three! Or maybe not.]
  7. Features long and formal speeches.  [At times, when appropriate]
  8. Shows divine intervention on human affairs.  [On only two occasions does the Nameless Mother personally poke her antennae into the mix, but the foretellings of Seers prevade the books.]
  9. Features heroes that embody the values of the civilization.  [Definitely]
       Then there are the stock characters who are encountered in epics.  First, of course, you've got the epic hero and ours is ready-made:  Ki'shto'ba Huge-Head, the extra-large Da'no'no Shshi Warrior from To'wak.  Often this hero is a demigod; whether that's true of Ki'shto'ba you'll have to find out later.  The hero has to go on a quest and be tested in some way.  So far, so good.
       The hero may fall in love, rescue and marry a Princess.  (???)  Impossible!  There are some things sexless termites just can't do!  Although there IS one place where Ki'shto'ba rescues a fertile female nymph ...
       The hero must have Companions, be it just a sidekick or a dozen of them.  I opted for a dozen.
       There is the wandering Bard, who roams the world recounting the deeds of the hero.  Here we have Di'fa'kro'mi the Remembrancer, who is also Ki'shto'ba's First Companion.
       Its Second and Third Companions are little Workers -- sidekicks par excellence.  Every termite Warrior must have groomers and feeders - squires, in effect.
       The Fourth Companion is the twin -- a pervasive theme in mythology and one stressed by Robert Graves in his Greek Myths.  Hercules had a twin named Iphicles; Ki'shto'ba has one named A'zhu'lo.
       Then there is the trickster.  Aren't tricksters fun, though?  Reynard the Fox, Coyote, Raven, Loki, Puck, Ariel, Q in StarTrek, Odysseus -- and last but hardly least, El-ahrairah in Watership Down.  And right up there with those: Za'dut, the Fifth Companion of Ki'shto'ba -- a Worker but so much more.  Its name means two things in the Shshi language:  Little Lizard and Little Thief.
       Finally, there are the Seers.  Fiver in Watership Down comes to mind.  And Greek myth is loaded with Seers, which fits right in with Shshi culture, since every fortress has an Alate who is gifted with Seeing (even if part of it does come from ingesting a hallucinogen).  Tiresias, the blind prophet of Thebes, becomes in my tales Thru'tei'ga'ma, the half-blind Seer of To'wak, who sets up the premises of the tale early on.  Ki'shto'ba won't acquire a Seer as a Companion until the fifth volume, but different Seers in different places have tremendous influence all the way through the story.  How much of their pronouncements are true foretellings and how many are merely self-fulfilling prophecies?  Again, you'll have to find out for yourself.
      

Saturday, May 12, 2012

The Trilogy Has Evolved into a Series!

       In my last post (long, long ago, it seems) I mentioned that "The Labors of Ki'shto'ba Huge-Head" would be a trilogy.  Here are the intended titles:
       v.1: The War of the Stolen Mother
       v.2: The Tale of the Valley of Thorns
       v.3: The Quest for the Golden Fungus
      
       The first volume will not undergo much alteration; I consider it as near-perfect as anything I've ever written.  And I've always considered it quite short.  In fact, its word count is longer than the first volume of "The Termite Queen," which ended up being 386 p.!  "The War of the Stolen Mother" is 150,000 words, but that includes a lengthy list of names and places that I intend to abbreviate.  At any rate, that book is pretty much set in stone -- I really don't want to change a thing.
       But as I was checking all this out, I discovered that v.2 and particularly v.3 were simply TOO LONG!  So I'm going to divide those two into three.  Volume 2 will still have the title "The Tale of the Valley of Thorns," but v.3 will probably be "Beneath the Mountain of Heavy Fear."  It isn't quite parallel with the other titles, but it has a solid impact.  Then v.4 will be "The Quest for the Golden Fungus."
       Another possibility would be to cut them up into even smaller chunks.  This could be done because the books are quite episodic, actually picaresque in form -- a hero and its Companions journeying across the countryside encountering one adventure after another (and I do mean adventure -- it's basically non-stop action!)  But I'd have to ponder that kind of reorganization for a while.

       So what are these books about?  I'm torn between letting you find out for yourselves and talking about it.  I think talking about it will win out!  Just what do you think books with the titles "War of the Stolen Mother" or "Quest for the Golden Fungus" would be about?  What famous war fought over an abducted female comes to mind?  And what famous quest was undertaken to recover a golden object? 
       These books interpret Greek myth from a termite perspective.  And not only Greek myth, but also in a couple of major instances certain medieval tales.  Termites may not experience sex, but they worship the Female Principle and their Mother.  What if a fortress stole the Mother of another fortress?  It would precipitate the war of all wars, because the Shshi Way of Life would be at stake.  A fortress without a mother is doomed to a slow and total death.  And I can't see termites being very interested in fleece no matter what the color, but they are very interested in fungus, so if there were a golden fungus reputed to have magical properties, the obtaining of it might be a briskly contested undertaking.
       And what is the role of our Champion, Ki'shto'ba Huge-Head of To'wak, in all this?  Well, who could Ki'shto'ba be but Hercules?  Hence the title, "The Labors of Ki'shto'ba Huge-Head."  I can't portray every one of Hercules' Twelve Labors -- some just don't fit with termites.  But you'll see the Hydra and the Stymphalian Birds and the Erymanthian Boar. 
       My source for all this is Robert Graves' "The Greek Myths," one of the most complete compilations of myths ever put together.  I must acknowledge his influence at every step.
       There is nothing more interesting and more fun than the reinterpretation of myths!  So stay on board for a great ride!  And read both volumes of "The Termite Queen," because Kaitrin Oliva has a role to play in the new series, also!