LIVING THE WRITER'S LIFE

PUTTING THE FINAL TOUCHES ON "SHADOW OF THE LION"

2012-01-28T12:04:00.000-08:00

Bust of young Alexander, Pella

I'm starting my final round of edits and cutting of my novel "Shadow of the Lion" before handing it over to the professional editor. It's been a long, difficult job going through it starting with all the workshopping and rewrites I did while writing it, followed by the first reader's critique. Then, when I'd gone through editing her suggestions, another reader's critique with more detailed corrections. That editing was strictly focusing on more cuts, spell checks and line edits. Now I'm going through it again to see what more I can cut, as somehow in spite of dropping whole chapters the word count doesn't seem to shrink as much as I thought it would!

This is Where the Story Begins: Babylon

And the Death of Alexander, June 323 BC: Alexander's funeral carriage

Until you get yourself totally absorbed in the editing as I've been, you don't realize what a painstaking job it can be! The writer is finished her work now and this last round of editing was much easier because of it. I am able to detach myself and be more critical, spotting repetitious phrases, unnecessary information etc. One of the problems with historical fiction is that the writer often puts too much of their research into the story when it isn't really necessary.

Because I workshopped it at my Scribbler's critique group all the way through, and worked in 'blocks', by the time it was completed in December 2010, I didn't need to do much rewriting. It has been mainly the cutting and tightening up, disposing of passages that were not really needed -- sort of 'overloads' of information. Although most of those chapters that I dropped were really interesting and I enjoyed writing them, it was a matter of necessity to let them go.

So now I'm almost finished with it other than what the professional editor will have to suggest before I start pitching it out into the big wide world of publishers. The only things I have left to write, are the acknowledgements, afterword and compiling my glossary and cast list (which are mostly done). And then I'll brush up my synopsis at bit more. Then it's done! And I have to say I will be very relieved and happy to have it off my hands so I can focus on my other work-in-progress "Dragons in the Sky" which you'll be hearing more about in my blog soon.

This is Where the Story Ends: The fortress of Amphipolis, Macedonia

The River Strymon, Amphipolis

A WRITER'S RESOLUTIONS FOR 2012

2012-01-01T14:42:00.000-08:00

Where I work

It isn't really a 'resolution' but it's a number one must on my list of things to do for this new year. That is: to finished the editing on Shadow of the Lion, get it reviewed by a pro. editor, and then start marketing it in earnest. My plan is to try traditional publishers first, and if that fails, I'll consider self-publishing later. So starting today, January 2, 2012, I'll resume editing in order to hand over the manuscript by the end of the month.

I did get some of my writing published in book form this year: "Sudden Thunder", a poetry anthology has 3 of my poems.

And "Foreign Flavours" published by Writers Abroad has a story by me about my favorite Greek dish and its origins. ("Arni Kelftiko" Bandit's Lamb)

My 'resolutions' do include writing projects as I have several travel articles to catch up with and deadlines approaching. But another important thing, (and this is a resolution), to read through the stack of to-be-read books I've accumulated over the past years. (I got two new books for Christmas to add to the lot). I already got a start on this over Christmas but resolve to make it a daily routine now to read a bit since I am not devoured by research and history texts at the moment.

Me, in front of Virginia Woolf's (and once George Bernard Shaw's) house in London

Another 'resolution' is to see more movies. (I've missed so many good ones as I hesitate to go on my own). After watching "My Week with Marilyn" recently I realize how much I do love good movies and really must make an effort to get to more. (I don't watch a lot of TV but as I'm going to get a new DVD player, I can also catch up on some of the movies I have hoarded at home.)

I ended 2010 by finishing Shadow of the Lion . I ended 2011 by working on the final edits. I hope to end 2012 with a publishing contract. And by the end of 2012 I hope to have finished writing and editing Dragons in the Sky: A Celtic Tale

Of course, I love to plan travels too but this year the promotion of the novel is #1 on my list of 'to-do's' so it will depend on what expenditures this entails as to whether I can make any long trips (i.e. to my beloved Greece with a stop at Amsterdam). If not, I'll be satisfied with some shorter, more affordable journeys.

I'm looking forward to this new year. Most of all, to the publication of my book!

READING ABOUT JACK KEROUAC AND REMINISCING

2011-12-30T21:07:00.000-08:00

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars, and in the middle, you see the blue center-light pop, and everybody goes ahh..." Jack Kerouac "On the Road"

Over the Christmas holidays I have been catching up on some reading out of the pile of to-be-read books. My first choice was a book by the former wife of my favorite writer of the '50's, Jack Kerouac. "You'll be OK" was about their short, bitter-sweet marriage, and it gave me a lot of insights in this writer I have for so long admired. Today I began another book about Kerouac "Conversations With Jack Kerouac". It has revived in me an interest to go back and read a couple of his famous books that had a huge impact on me as a budding writer and a young woman trying to 'find herself' back in the end of the '50's and during the '60's.

Jack Kerouac Mar 12,1922- Oct 21, 1969

This was my pin-up boy picture in the late '50's and 60's. ( I think I've still got it among my papers and clippings about Kerouac)

I remember my first visit to New York City and what a thrill it was to me, and how it literally changed my life and way of thinking. I was fascinated to be in the city where Kerouac had spent so much time and especially to be staying in the Village. On a second trip to NYC in the mid '70's I stayed in the Bronx, but near a place where he had lived for a time. In future travels I'd spend more time in San Francisco, another of his haunts. And the two books I just read I had purchased at the City Lights Bookstore a couple of years ago on a visit there. I remember being so excited to find a little street named "Jack Kerouac Street" and to be in that book store where all the Beat poets had hung out.

I have always admired Kerouac's free style of writing, the spontaneous writing that enjoy. In my younger days I always wanted to write like him. But writing historical fiction is a different genre and style. Now I'd like to re-read some of his books and study his writing further. Perhaps when I start writing my memoirs "Life Below the Acropolis" I could incorporate some of his style.

Kerouac's typewriter

Here is a memoir I wrote some time ago about that first visit to New York. It's a time that I will never forget because it truly changed my life.

FINDING MYSELF IN NEW YORK CITY

In the ‘60’s I was living in a new suburb of Edmonton in northern Alberta, a young stay-at-home Mom with a toddler daughter and a six year old son in grade one and a husband who was quickly descending into the bottom of a vodka bottle. Up until the time we’d moved there, when my husband was transferred as plant manager for a big new retread plant, I’d worked in a newspaper editorial department on the Coast, with dreams of being a writer, and an interesting group of friends including some I’d met at art school.

Life in that northern city sapped the creativity out of me. I was so absorbed in trying to figure out what to do about my home-situation at a time when there were no counselors available and no family to call on for help, that soon I lost ‘myself’. I stopped writing and eventually stopped painting too. To keep busy and creative, I started up my own nursery school, mainly for neighborhood kids. And in time I saved up enough money so that I could take myself on a vacation -- the first vacation I’d had in years on my own. Two of my best friends had moved East, one to New York, the other to Washington D.C. I was going to visit them. In Vancouver, we’d been the “Three Musketeers” and it had been several years since I’d seen them.

It had been a dream of mine since I was a teenager to go to New York. When I got there, I thought I’d died and gone to Beatnik heaven! There I was smack in the middle of Greenwich Village, home of my hero Jack Kerouac. I strode the streets of New York fearlessly, in awe of everything I saw.
My friend Bobby, on the other hand, had been living there for some time and had become totally paranoid. I couldn’t get over all the bolts and locks and chains on the door to her apartment. She scolded me for speaking to people on the street, or for sitting on the stoop in the evening chatting to passers-by.

“You can’t do that!” she said. “This is New York.”

“But I’m doing it,” I retorted. “I like it here.” I did. I loved New York. I felt it right into my soul. I was like Alice in Wonderland. What a thrill to sit at a sidewalk cafe overhearing a conversation at another table between a man and woman who, I realized, were discussing their friend “Janice” (Joplin, that is). And another time, sitting in a small bar beside some handsome young men who were relating the funny story of appearing on Ed Sullivan (the Everly Brothers).

It was August 1969. Everyone at the time was discussing “Woodstock”. Was I going to Woodstock? I had no idea what they were talking about. Sometime during my visit I was introduced to marijuana and hashish. At first I was afraid, because ten years before I’d seen my boyfriend destroyed by heroin. Drugs were a bad business to get mixed up in. But they educated me. MJ was a medicinal herb, and hashish it’s derivative. I tried it. Nothing terrible happened to me except a warm and fuzzy feeling.

I spent a few weeks in New York, walking around freely, gawking at the sights, going up into the Empire State Building (then the tallest building in the world as it has become, once again) Wow! What a thrill. Walking up the spiral staircase inside the Statue of Liberty. Breathtaking! Riding the buses and subway, walking in Central Park. Every breath I took, every step along those busy, exciting streets, I got closer to finding ‘myself’. Alberta and my problems were far, far away.

My other friend, Joan, was living in Washington DC. She was the “private secretary” of a wealthy Black lawyer. I hopped a train and went down to visit her, again, stepping into another Wonderland.
Joan’s “boss” had put her up in an elegant Colonial apartment filled with antique furniture.
She was socializing with the White House crowd and rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous. As I was her out-of-town guest I had to pass the ‘inspection’, and was later invited to join her and a group of her boss’s friends at a swanky exclusive private club for professional persons of colour. She and I were the only two women in the group and the only white people in the place. Quite an experience and one that I have never forgotten, all because of a very nice African American television journalist who befriended me.

After drinks at the club, he invited me to come with him to “a very special bar” where he said there was an incredible pianist/singer entertaining. It happened to be shortly after the Washington Race Riots, and he wanted to talk to me about it, fill me in on the situation first-hand and from an African American person’s point-of-view.

I didn’t know the name of this bar until I found a remastered CD of this singer’s music, recorded about the time I’d been there, and released the following year, projecting her into the limelight. The bar was known as The Bohemian Caverns. The singer, he told me, was so talented that she should be Nationally known. Her name was Roberta Flack. It was a small, dark piano bar. She played the piano and sang and she was truly magnificent. This was when I first heard her sing “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” and I’ve never forgotten it. I’ll never forget how, at the break, I was in the washroom and she was there too and we talked. It was a great thrill. I knew I was meeting a ‘star’, although her first album was not released until the following year. Now, as I sit and listen to her remastered CD, singing those same songs she sang that night I first heard her, I remember that night, and I remember how that visit to New York changed my life forever.

I returned to New York several days later. When I arrived at Bobby’s apartment, she was not at home. Fortunately I had the keys to get in. Shortly after I arrived, someone came to the door to call for her. It was a young man named Nickie. He was surprised to find me there and concerned about Bobby’s whereabouts. It seemed he had been with her a day or two before and they had gone to visit a friend of his. Apparently when they were at this friend’s apartment, there was a huge drug raid, because the ‘friend’ it seemed was a big dealer of LSD. Bobby was found to be carrying a bag of marijuana and had been arrested. It turned out she was carrying her marijuana in her purse because she had been afraid I would ‘smoke’ some of it. Consequently, because of her paranoia, she was incarcerated in the immigration detention centre. Seems she had been living and working illegally in New York.

I hung around New York with Nickie after that and we visited Bobby in the big red-brick prison, took her bags of cookies and other treats. She was going to be deported. I was going to fly back to Alberta. But I didn’t want to go.

Nickie was probably one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met. He showed me a different way of thinking and living. And by the time I boarded that plane to fly home I was a changed person. I had found myself. And from then on, my life would never be the same.

New York skyline, Sept 2006

Me, posing with a wax figure of Morgan Freeman. NYC 2006

CELEBRATING WINTER SOLSTICE

2011-12-22T15:07:00.000-08:00

Solstice Fire

There were Solstice celebrations in various parts of town last night. I went over to my old school at the Britannia Community Centre where they were holding ceremonies with drums, singing and a solstice fire. The highlight of the evening would be a walk around the candle-lit labyrinth.

Solstice celebrations are old Celtic traditions and strangely, as I was riding the bus over to the Centre, suddenly my protagonist Olwen, from my work-in-progress "Dragons in the Sky" began to speak to me. It's been many years since I channeled Olwen's spirit. I had set aside her story back in '89 when I wanted to work on the novel about Alexander the Great's little known son. I had thought at the time that, as I was writing it as a juvenile historical, it would only take me a year or so, then I'd get back to "Dragons" and finish it. Besides, I was discouraged with the Celtic novel, having been lead astray by suggestions from a writing instructor and less than enthusiastic critiques. Well...to make a long saga short...once I decided to write "Shadow" in multiple point of view, it became very complicated and took my much, much longer than ever anticipated. I finally finished it last December and I'm currently working on the cuts and line edits to get it in perfect shape for publishing.

Candles for Solstice

In the meantime, i have been retyping the old manuscript of "Dragons" and workshopping it at my critique group. They love it. Especially the Bardic verse that part of it is written in. But I had decided not to start doing any real edits on it until I am finished with "Shadow" and that won't be until the end of January. So other than the retyping, I've not given the story or the characters too much thought.

I've certainly not heard any of them 'speak' to me. That is, until last night.

A Solstice log blazes in the Circle of drummers and chanters.

"Dragons in the Sky" is very much a first-person narrative, told in the voice of Olwen, a young acolyte of the Raven clan, destined to leave for the Holy Isle where she will become a full-fledged Druid priestess. I had no idea I was going to write this story, when it began back in around 1978. One day a voice spoke to me, a young girl, she said her name was Olwen and she wanted to tell me her story. So I began to channel her spirit and write down what she said. As the story progressed, some of it written in bardic verse, I was more and more amazed. At first, I didn't know where exactly this all took place until one of my early visits to England when I was advised by an elderly psychic to visit Stonehenge and to see what spirits spoke to me in the inner circle. (That was when you could still go inside the circle). Later, while waiting for the bus at Salisbury I had noticed a sign about an Iron Age hill fort just outside of town. As I had time to kill, I decided to walk there. And as I approached Old Sarum I knew instinctively that this was where Olwen's story took place.

I made a couple of other visits there later and each time more of her story unfolded. This past summer I went again, just to research and refresh my memory before I start reworking the novel. But until now, I have not heard Olwen's voice. How strange and appropriate it was that she spoke to me when I was on my way to the Solstice rites.

The candle-lit Labyrinth

I walked the candle-lit labyrinth and meditated, wondering where this new year will lead me. I know I am in touch with Olwen again and I'm glad for that. And I am confident that "Shadow of the Lion" will find a good publishing home.

So now, this year ends, and the New Year begins. And the first day of wintered boded well with bright sunshine and mild weather. Once the holiday merrymaking is over and things settle back into the new routine, I'll be returning to my work on "Dragons in the Sky" and waiting for Olwen's voice as I write down her very unique and amazing story. (And yes, there is an Alexander connection in it too!)

WRITING TO MUSIC

2011-12-08T09:50:00.000-08:00

When I'm writing or editing I like to listen to inspiring music. If I'm working on "Shadow of the Lion" as I am just now, doing some final edits, I prefer to have classical music playing. I find it adds a soothing background while I work.

In the ancient days story tellers and poets always used music as part of their platform, such as the lyric poet Sappho who played a lyre to accompany her verses. And the bards of the ancient Celts also used music to record their tribal stories.

But I think you have to be careful what musical background you use as you write. I could never listen to rap or current popular songs when I'm working on historical creative writing. It's important to be able to hear the cadence of the prose as well and this would only interfere with the rhythm of the words. When I was reworking my play "The Street" I listened to jazz, specifically the music of Chet Baker and other well known jazz musicians of the '50's. When I was writing "Dragons in the Sky" I listened to Laurena McKennitt as her music is very Celtic. For "Shadow of the Lion" I choose classical music, sometimes the sound-tracks from movies, to give it that "epic" feeling.

Do you listen to music when you are writing? If so, what kind of music do you choose?

STRATEGIES FOR PUBLISHING

2011-11-30T11:34:00.000-08:00

The Library of Alexandria

I've been looking in to various publishing possibilities for "Shadow of the Lion". After speaking to the agents and a few other publishers I realize that most of them insist on only 120,000 word count for a publication. This would mean chopping Shadow by 3/4 which would simply ruin the story. So instead of stressing over this dilemma, I've decided that perhaps the best route to take would be self-publishing

through one of the accredited self-publishers (there are 3 top ones), such as Lulu. This would mean I'd have to check the page count, not the word count. It would also mean I won't have to wait perhaps up to five years to see this book out in print. I simply can't wait that long. For one reason, I'm not getting any younger and mainly, the theme of the story is pertinent to today's world. And I feel that this novel, which I worked so hard on for all those years, deserves to have an audience NOW, not five years from now or at the whim of a traditional publisher.

I'm doing my research into this. I've spoken to a couple of friends who have published through Lulu and they are very satisfied. I realize that to make an impact, it means I'd have lots of marketing to do and some investment. For this I'm even willing to forgo my yearly trip to Greece. Another friend mentioned that she does marketing and would help me. And I have a lot of connections around town where I could arrange book readings etc. So that part of the self-publishing doesn't seem a problem to me. I like the idea of the book being listed on Amazon and the option of doing an e-book as well, as this is a big trend these days.

What I would like is comments from any of my readers who know more about this process than I do. Have any of you had experience with this kind of publishing? What do you advise? I am in the process of doing another round of editing and then I'll turn the manuscript over to a professional editor. I also need to write the foreword, afterword, glossary and bibliography for it.

If I self publish I want it to be as perfect as a traditionally published book. I'm even going to consult with an artist friend about designing a cover for it. Now I need to find out about IBSNs and copyrights and whether the publisher provides those. I'd appreciate any input you can give me. Thanks.

DOING BATTLE WITH WORDS

2011-11-16T16:15:00.000-08:00

Wall painting on tomb believed to be King Philip's, at Vergina, Greece

I'm doing battle with words right now. My first gruelling session left me feeling totally depressed and worn out. Having to chop so many words from the text of "Shadow of the Lion" is not only discouraging but, after having spent so many long hours writing the story, it is a painful exercise. But, it must be done!

By the end of the first 'battle' I was so depressed I was even having nightmares about it. So for now I have backed off and I'm planning new strategies for the second attack. I will eventually have a professional editor take over, but for now if I have to kill my babies I'll do it myself no matter how it wrenches at my soul to do so.

Yes, there are passages that were part of my character development and probably don't need to be there. Many of them I have already cut only to realize that the word count was barely going down and after all that work I had only destroyed 156 pages! Now I am taking a much closer look: asking myself if the scene is absolutely necessary to keep the story rolling and the tension building. I've also cut some points of view, and a lot of places where characters were reminiscing about things.

There are certain things I won't cut: both my critique readers and others in my workshop group have said "don't cut the elephants". I also want to keep the women's voices strong. And there are a couple of major characters (generals and the Persian court advisor) as well as the villain who must stay. The story is also about Alexander's young son, Iskander, who was his only legal heir so it is important, especially in the later part of the novel, that he has a strong voice. (I decided to cut some of his points of view when he is little).

I always wanted to pitch the story to a main-stream publisher but now I realize that to do so I'd have to cut 3/4 of the story and that simply won't work. So my alternative is to look into self-publishing. For one thing, I don't have years to wait and neither does the story. It needs to be out there now, because much of the theme pertains to situations in the world today.

So I will rally the 'troops' and forge onward. After all, this is the story about a famous conqueror and his generals. Of course, they managed to bring Alexander's dynasty down in the end. But I won't let them bring "Shadow" down too. Somehow I will find a way to cut enough of the text not to spoil what is an important and exciting story!

WRITER'S NEWS UPDATES

2011-10-27T12:25:00.000-07:00

The first bit of good news is that Foreign Flavors has been published, an anthology of foodie stories chosen by Writers Abroad. My story about a favorite Greek dish "Arni Kleftiko" (Bandit's Lamb) is included in the collection. Proceeds go to a good charitable cause. So get your copies now. I think it will make a nice Christmas gift for some of my friends and family members.

Get it here: http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/foreign-flavours/18192264

My next bit of news is in regards to the status of my novel "Shadow of the Lion". I have completed a few rounds of editing and cutting and will launch into another one this weekend. Last week I attended the Surrey International Writer's Conference with the intention of making some editor/agent appointments, but was only successful with one. None of the people I most wanted to see were available. I did get some good tips and this was concerning word length and numbers of points of view. My novel is way over the acceptable word length and it's going to mean major cutting. I also have too many points of view so I have to decide which ones I can eliminate without spoiling the flow of the narrative. I'll be starting work on this by the weekend.

Meanwhile, in spite of being disappointed about the results of the conference a writer friend has since directed me to her own editor with high recommendations. I was sorry I missed some good presentations at the conference. I stood in line waiting to book an agent or editor all during historical fiction author Margaret George's presentation and it was one feature I really wanted to attend. However I did get in for the last 5 minutes and asked a few questions, then spoke to her briefly on my own later. And because of the two agent appointments I wasn't able to take in as much of the other presentations of my choice but did get some good tips about pitching and queries.

After that full day at the conference, the next day I taught an all-day memoir writing group which was excellent. Then on Sunday morning at my journalism class, it was disrupted by a crazy woman who burst in two hours late and hurled insults at me and the class as well as physically attacking me. Very upsetting! I was barely getting over that and had classes every morning until today as well as one night school class. Fortunately, most of them went well other than my yesterday's Write from the Heart group where there were some small disruptions. And it isn't even a full moon?

Well today the sun is out and I should hurry with these little blog tasks and get myself out for a nice walk. I'll post more news about the editing of Shadow of the Lion and other writing news as soon as I get some time.

THE ARDUOUS TASK OF EDITING

2011-10-19T22:24:00.000-07:00

I've had my nose to buried in my manuscript of Shadow of the Lion for hours most days lately getting the editing done. The critique and reading notes my friends have helped me with have been so much appreciated. So now I have the pages marked up what to correct and what to eliminate, I must start the final cuts. For me, anyway. Because I will try to get a professional editor to do the absolute final work. It's just too difficult for me to be objective about how much or what needs to be eliminated and a professional editor will be able to do that without any problem. Of course, it's going to cost me! But that's all part of the publishing game.

Ancient Writing Implements

Next, I have to start working on my synopsis. Although I've had one written for some time, it isn't quite right and the synopsis must be perfect. It's your ticket into the publisher's office. And to get it really in acceptable shape I'll have to pay to have that edited as well. I've heard that can cost up to $100 hour. At least it's only 5 or 6 pages and I'll try to get it as perfect as possible before I submit it to an editor.

Then there is the Forward and Afterword, the Cast of Characters and the Glossary. Thankfully my friend Renate has compiled a pretty good glossary for me while she was doing the reading critique.

I'm attending the Surrey International Writer's Conference on Friday. I paid to go the whole day, hoping to get appointments with a couple of specific agents but unfortunately they were not available. I have chosen someone else who does historical fiction. Usually I volunteer at the Conference and thought this would give me a chance to nab other editors/agents in the hotel lobby or at the workshops, however now I have to teach classes on both Saturday and Sunday so will only be able to attend the one day. Keeping my fingers crossed that I can make some good contacts.

A lot of people have asked "Have you got your novel published yet?" They have no idea of the amount of work it takes to get the manuscript into the hands of an agent/publisher. I've also been asked if I'll self-publish or go through one of the popular small presses, but because Shadow of the Lion is an epic story and literary fiction, I prefer to first try the bigger publishing houses. I do have a couple of 'leads' however if that fails. So, wish me luck. The writing tasks are almost over. Now comes the read hard work!

Alexander's Name in Hieroglyphics

WRITING EVENTS: Keeping Inspired

2011-09-30T15:04:00.000-07:00

I'm always thinking of writing, even when I set off for a day of walking in the park. Therefore, I always carry a notebook with me. And sometimes I take my journal along as well. I have been somewhat remiss in keeping up my journal and vowed to try to write 10 minutes a day in it (so far haven't quite met the quota, but trying). The other weekend I went for a lovely, quiet walk in the woods at Central Park. Part of my purpose was to clear my mind and meditate. And at one point, as I sat by the duck pond enjoying the serenity of the moment, I wrote in my journal. A man came by and commented on it. "Ah! A writer!" I wanted to stop writing and ask if he was a writer too, but decided to keep the pen moving. You have to do that sometimes. And my purpose for being in the park that day was to write!

There have been a number of inspiring writing events recently and more to come later in October.
Last weekend I went to Words on the Street, downtown at the Public Library. In spite of a sudden windstorm and rain that suddenly blew down some of the tents and had people running for cover, I managed to take in several excellent (free!) events at the site.

There is always so much to take in at Words on the Street that this time I marked my program with colored stickers indicating the place and time of the events I wanted to see. My first trip had been to the poetry tent but they were evacuating as soon as I arrived there. So I walked around and listened to the Carnival Band for awhile as I have a friend who plays in it. Then I made my way to the Magazine Tent in time for the Haiku in Canada where people were writing haikus about hockey! (I'm not a hockey fan but I thought it was a unique idea!) Then I stopped by the author's tent and heard some excellent readings including a script reading by a playwright, Lucia Frangione,"Paradise Garden" which was interesting to me as I also have written plays. Next was a most amusing monologue by Fringe Festival favorite, TJ Dawe reading from his text of "Labrador. My main purpose of being there, though, was to hear the Chilean Canadian playwright/author Carmen Aguirre presenting her new book publication, "Something Fierce: Memoirs of a Revolutionary Daughter." Because of my close association with my dear late friend Anibal, anything to do with Chile and the revolution is of keen interest to me.

As the rain was still coming down and the wind blowing, I holed up downstairs in the library after that taking in several excellent panels - everything from helpful hints to increase your writing income, memoirs, book business plans and how to get published. Very useful information for me at this point in time when I am preparing my novel for publication.

The whole day was inspiring and interesting. Besides that, I ran into lots of friends from the literary scene in Vancouver, and it's always great to net-work!

Writing is such a huge part of my life, in fact ALL of my life at the moment. So every chance I get to attend literary events is important to me. In a few weeks I'll be attending the Surrey International Writer's Conference and hope to make some agent/editor appointments. In the meantime, I'm keeping busy with edits and cuts on my manuscript "Shadow of the Lion" making sure it's ready to be presented to the world. Lots of work ahead, I know, actually far more than I'd been anticipating thanks to all the information I got at those panel discussions.

THE TRICKY TASK OF WEEDING THINGS OUT!

2011-09-23T22:09:00.000-07:00

Alexander the Great Mosaic

I'm beginning to feel a little bit like a warrior wielding a sword as I chop my way through doing edits on my novel "Shadow of the Lion". The biggest problem is, for the most part the writing is as near perfect as I could get it and the story is as exciting as ever, even after having read it through countless times. So knowing what to cut is really a problem for me. I've already chopped several chapters out and repetitious passages, but I'm still way over the required word count.

I just had another reader's critique and line-editing done by a friend of mine who did a thorough job. She says she has marked a few passages that can be chopped, but for the most part she loved the story the way it is. As soon as I finish this round of going through the MSS myself, I'll go back and follow all her advice which includes spell-checks and punctuation, although most of that was done on the last round.

Macedonian kopis, weapon used by soldiers

Recently, another published writer friend, advised me to just go by my own feelings as what to cut. I had been discussing the problem with her and said I was so afraid of 'gutting' the story, taking out something vital, and spoiling the story-line by doing so. It's a complicated political history story with a lot of sub-plotting, but this was necessary to build tension and draw out the characters as well as to explain what was going on in Alexander's world that eventually leads to the end of his dynasty.

I'll be attending the Surrey Writer's Conference in a few weeks. I'd hoped to get appointments with a couple of particular editors/agents but found they were not available the day I am attending. I at least hope I can perhaps nab them in the lobby. I do have another appointment scheduled but was disappointed not to get the ones I'd counted on. My aim is to start pitching Shadow by the end of October so it's vital for me to get as much of this final editing done as possible by then. I do know that if I can get a publisher interested their own editors will do a lot of cutting, but I think it's important to make sure I've done the best I can before that time. It might mean I will have to hire a professional editor to do the final cuts. I know this can be very expensive. But if it means getting the manuscript into perfect order for publication I'm willing to do that.

Meanwhile, it's 'slash and burn' and hope for the best...a compelling, clean copy to hand over to a publisher!

RETURN TO CAER GWYN

2011-09-18T12:05:00.000-07:00

author's drawing of Caer Gwyn

Caer Gwyn is a fictional Iron Age hill fort, circa. 4th Century BC, located where today's Old Sarum is near Salisbury, England. There have been settlements in this area since the Bronze Age. Old Sarum is a Roman name for this ancient site.

Back in the late '70's, a voice spoke to me. It was the voice of a young girl named "Olwen". The story she told me, which I began to write, titled "Dragons in the Sky", tells of her life growing up in a place called Caer Gwyn. She had been a foundling, left at the great Stone Circle (Stonehenge) and taken in by a Druid she called "Grandfather Maelgwyn" and a priestess/healer named Essylt, who she called "Auntie". Olwen was an acolyte of the goddess. They were members of the Raven clan, a tribe of people who lived on the Salisbury Plain.

I wasn't sure of the location of Caer Gwyn until my first visit to Salisbury after a visit to Stonehenge, when I happened to notice a sign that said there was a hill fort just outside the town. I was killing time waiting for a bus back to London, so I decided to walk there and see what it was like. As I hiked down the highway, the closer I got to Old Sarum, the stronger the feelings of deja vus and by the time I got there, I realized that this was exactly how "Olwen" had described her village to me. This was Caer Gwyn!

Old Sarum

In the next couple of years I made two trips to the site and each time those feelings of deja vus grew stronger and Olwen's story became clearer to me. I had been on my way to visit Greece on that second trip to Old Sarum, and as I traveled I became aware of Olwen's story unfolding, and how there was a Greek connection for her as well as for me.

I worked on that novel for several years, including during the 5 years I lived in Athens. But previously, when I'd first started writing it, a writing instructor kept insisting it should be told as a third person narrative, rather than a first person account in Olwen's voice. I tried switching points of view. It wasn't working. And after I returned to Canada, when I resumed attending writer's workshops, the critiques I was receiving proved quite discouraging. So after finishing half the novel I shelved it in order to work on another, "Shadow of the Lion", which is about the fall of Alexander the Great's dynasty.

It took me many years to finish this massive work but now it's ready to go out to a publisher and I want to resume writing Olwen's story. So far I am just retyping it as the early work was written on a manual typewriter and I must record it on the computer. But I'm work shopping the chapters as I retype them, and my writer's critique group is loving every bit of it! I realized when I started working on it again what an unusual and enchanting story it is: historical fiction but almost 'fantasy' too. It is written using some Bardic verse and very poetic prose. I recall trying to capture the Welsh lilt to the voice of Olwen and once I'd given it to my Welsh dad to read to see if I had the cadence correct. Now, in re-reading it, I can hear the voice clear and strong. But I can't remember how I wrote all those words. Where did they come from? How did I do it? I know, for sure, that I was 'channelling' this girl from long ago, and maybe "Olwen" is even me in another lifetime.

Was this the site of Caer Gwyn settlement?

The last two times I went back to England and Greece, I stopped at Old Sarum again to try and conjure up Olwen's spirit. This last summer when I was there I had a chance to stroll around on my own and absorb the feeling of the place. I even learned a few more details about the Iron Age settlements that I didn't know before. And for some strange reason, the first times I had been there I didn't even go to the top of the earth mound where the remains of the fortress walls are (though these are Roman period ruins).

Young students at the site of Old Sarum

I'm excited about working on "Dragons in the Sky" again. I realize that it's a unique story and that the first person point of view is necessary for it to be told the way it is in Olwen's voice. This is her story and it is a compelling story of a young girl's coming of age, her first love, and an adventure led her to another world where she learns to survive and find herself. As I retype it I am getting in touch with her again, listening for her voice to guide me as the story unfolds. It's an exciting revelation and I am so glad that I didn't give up on it even though it's taken me many years to retell.

DORA'S SUNSET

2011-09-06T00:12:00.000-07:00

Note: While I was on the island of Poros this summer, I learned that a very dear friend and member of our Scribbler's writer's group, had passed away. All of us who knew Dora were devastated. This poem is in remembrance of her, written on Poros the day after I learned she had died. June, 2011

DORA’S SUNSET

The night I learned you had left us,
I walked the seaside promenade
by Poros’ harbour
and paused, remembering you.

The sunset had turned the sea

into a pool of crimson
and against the blazing sky
a four-masted sailing ship
lay at anchor

I remember you, the free spirit,

You who wore purple
and buttercup yellow.
You danced in floral frocks,
amused us with funny stories
about an old lady named Clover.

I still hear your sweet voice,

singing, laughing.
I search that crimson sunset sky,
say prayers, remember you.

The next day, on Kanali beach,

I wade into the water.
A gull soars overhead,
a small white bird circles
as though it is watching me.

Is it your spirit

soaring over the blue Aegean sea?
My tears mix with the sea salt.
I hear the gentle trill of your voice,
telling me not to cry.
How could it be that you are gone,
taken from us too soon?

Dora, you will always be remembered.

From the collection of poems written in or about Greece,

"Songs for Erato"

LAMENT FOR THE OLD ONES

2011-09-04T22:29:00.000-07:00

Note: Another poem from my collection "Songs for Erato". I used to live in the Plaka, Athens and spend a lot of time there each time I am back in the city. It used to be a place where my friends and I partied and for us women, there was no end of attention from all the handsome Adonis who hung out or worked at the tavernas there. I wrote this poem one day while sitting at a souvlaki ship reminiscing about the old times.

The Plaka, Athens Greece

LAMENT FOR THE OLD ONES

What has happened to those

beautiful Greek boys,
those Adonis who used to
captivate us with their sweet talk?

Where are the Zorbas

who danced with passion
on broken plates
and later broke our hearts?

Are they these

bald, grey-haired, unshaven men
who laze away their days at kafeneions
bemoaning the state of the economy,
reminiscing of the days
they sailed boldly into foreign ports
like pirates,
seducing the local girls?

They used to loll in Plaka Square,

kamakis poised,
enough of them
to make a girl’s head dizzy,
oozing their Mediterranean charm.

Today I see only tired old men,

ancient as their myths.
Where are those beautiful gods?
Where is Eros
who struck our hearts with
his golden arrows?

Now they work in tavernas

on hot summer days
slogging beer and souvlaki to tourists
while I sit and watch
remembering those golden days
when Plaka Square was filled
with laughter and love.

Written in Plaka Square, Athens.

(note: a kamaki is a 3-pronged fishing spear. The guys who go out 'fishing' for women are nicknamed Kamakis)

The Plaka at Night

My friend Aris who I have known since my first trip to Greece in 1979. He's retired now and gone to live in Patras. I miss him!

DELPHI'S MAGIC

2011-09-04T00:16:00.000-07:00

Note: Almost every time I visit Greece I make a pilgrimage to Delphi. But this poem is written about my very first visit there, when I spent the night on the mountainside with a friend. Delphi is one of the most sacred places on Earth and the ancient Greeks actually considered it the 'navel of the earth', with a carved navel stone to symbolize this.

The Temple of Apollo, Delphi

Delphi's Magic

To Kos

I remember how you stole

pomegranates from a tree
and put them on the stone ledge
with the grapes,
sweet grapes from Delphi’s vines.

We stumbled down

Parnassus’ rocky slope
clambered over
shrubs and granite
to find a place to sleep
beneath the stars.
and laid among the holly oaks.

Silver lights winked

from the edge of the distant sea
We would not know til morning
that we had made our bed
on the chasm’s edge.

In night’s chill

we warmed each other
The full moon shone on us
We watched meteors
shower golden trails
across the heavens.

We felt the presence of the gods
understood the mystery
that brings men to this
Sacred shrine.

I keep these memories

forever in my heart
And every trip I make
to Delphi
I remember you,
and the full moon,
and how we were enchanted
by Delphi’s magic.

W. Ruth Kozak

Delphi, Greece 1982

THE GHOSTS OF VIRONOS STREET

2011-09-01T14:36:00.000-07:00

This is another poem in my collection "Songs for Erato". Vironos Street, in Athens Plaka, is named for Lord Byron who used to stay at a small monastary where the Lysikratis monument is at a corner we called "The Dirty Corner" because of the dust from excavations.

#14 Vironos Street, Plaka

THE GHOSTS OF VIRONOS STREET

I walk past #14 Vironos,

touch the gate

recall my life there:

Kyria Dina’s scarlet geraniums

The little spitaki in the courtyard

occupied by writers, artists,

Robbie sipping krasi

expounding on his life

as an Argentine exile

Roberto Hallberg (Robbie)

At the Dirty Corner

( named because of the dust of the excavation)

the tripod monument of Lysikratis,

won by a chorus at the Dionysus Theatre.

This was ancient Athen’s theatre district.

Poets lived here: Byron, Shelly…

(Vironos is Byron’s Street).

Lysikratis Monument, next to the monastary where Bryon used to visit.

Once these tables at the milk shop

were crowded with friends

sharing wine and stories.

We lived the Greek zoe,

bared our passions to the passersby.

Artists, mad poets,

writers, scholars,

expats and locals.

So much flotsam tossed on

Aegean shores.

Tales were told,

Dreams shared.

Dramas enacted on this street stage.

Relationships began and ended here.

Once I threw a wine glass at Mikalis.

Missed.

On winter nights

we sat inside the milk shop

huddled around a heater

sipping Metaxa brandy.

the Katherine Hepburn of the Corner

her maniac Canadian boyfriend,

Mary Rogers, the faded debutante,

with a bottle of vodka in her handbag

an entourage of toy-boys in tow.

my soul-brother, Robbie,

telling stories about

his beloved Buenos Aires.

We shared our lives

on that Corner,

knew each other’s secrets and

sorrows.

Now the milk shop is a ritzy café-bar

the dust of the excavations

swept away

along with the memories

Old friends have disappeared,

Left for other places.

Some taken too soon.

Yet their presence

lingers still.

Do the tourists who sit here

sipping frappe and wine

know the Corner’s history?

Can they feel the presence

of the ghosts ?

Last night as I walked,

out of Vironos Street

across the Areopagitou

I saw him,

walking in his slow amble

toward the Dirty Corner.

I recognized

his slender frame,

long grey pony-tail and beard.

Robbie looked up,

caught my tear-filled eyes.

I heard him say

in his mischievous way,

“Misbehave!”

Then, like a shadow,

he was gone.

So many memories

on that little corner of Plaka.

Yes, the ghosts are there

I see them,

hear their laughter

as I pass by.

The "Dirty Corner" (now posh and expensive!)

(note: This summer when I passed by #14 Vironos and stopped to touch the gate and peer inside as I always do, the whole front was covered by an iron sheet with a bolted door, sealing all the ghosts inside!)

ODE TO THE YOUNG KOUROI

2011-09-01T10:27:00.000-07:00

Kouros (pl: Kouroi): a representation of male youths which first appeared in the Archaic period in Greece. It was used to represent the god Apollo and typically used as a memorial for victors in the Games.

Kouros, museum at Samos

ODE TO THE YOUNG KOUROI

In the museum
the marble kouros
stands erect
Long locks brushing his shoulders,
eyes gazing into
an unknown future.

I see them, today’s kouroi,
standing on a street corners,
holding machine guns
in clenched fists.

Are these guns the new kamakis?
Is the broken glass they tread on
From shattered windows?
Instead of plundering hearts
in foreign ports
do arrest they roving marauders
who plunder their city?

They look young enough to be my
grandson, barely out of college
Perhaps recruited from army duties.

Is this what has become of
the young men
who once lolled in Plaka Square
chatting up tourist girls,
stealing hearts?

Do they, like their fathers,
dance like Zorbas on broken plates,
aim their golden arrows
Into the hearts of tourist girls?

Like the museum kouros
these boys face an unknown future
These beautiful
bronze-skinned kouroi
are the new
protectors of Athens

They are today's Greeks
survivors, resilient, daring,
the heroes of a new generation.

Peaceful protestors, Syntagma Square, Athens

Kouros in situ, Naxos Greece

(kamaki: a three-pronged fishing spear; a term used for the young men who were out looking for girls in Greece)

RETURN TO EDEN (a "Poemoir")

2011-08-25T13:40:00.000-07:00

LALA, Evvia, Greece

LALA: RETURN TO EDEN

I trudge up the familiar road to Lala,
the little mountain village
my Garden of Eden.
I used to say it wasn’t even a hamlet, just an omelet,
a cluster of stone houses, 100 people, and 1000 sheep.
Past the lone church, up the incline that was once just a goat’s path,
I see desolate houses, shutters closed, doors boarded up.
Once there were open windows
village women stood on balconies,
waved greetings, “Kali mera! Good morning!”
Now when I call out
startled birds fly from rooftops.

Kyria Erasmia’s red geraniums still bloom
in clay pots on her patio
Has she gone too?
Where are all the folk who used to
toil in the olive and citrus groves,
the old women with bent backs
who collected bundles of oregano from the mountain top,
the old men who sat on verandas sipping thick chocolate-flavored coffee?
Where are the shepherds and their shaggy flocks that
jangled up the hillsides at dawn?

On the dirt road I stand, listening…
Far away in the valley I hear a dog bark
I listen for the cackling of hens, a crowing rooster, the bleating of goats
There is only silence.
Lala. The name means “chattering woman”, but where are the women

The day is beautiful, bright,

yet even the sun’s golden light does not penetrate the dismal shadow
that has cast an eerie pall over the village.
There’s not a living soul, not even an animal.
The iron gate that conceals Antonia’s courtyard is locked,
sealing all my memories inside.
I want to go inside,
walk along the familiar cobblestone path
past the stone bake-oven,
go up to the old wooden door of my spitaki.
the little house with its thick stone walls,
shaded by the gnarled olive tree and grape arbor,
the porch where I slept under million of stars,
counted meteors and satellites in the night sky
I remember over the fireplace,
the carved corner-stone with a Byzantine cross. 1754.
That house had been there all those years,
the roof and floor repaired, its two rooms used as a storage place.
I whitewashed the walls, hung herbs from the rafters,
furnished it with things from Antonia’s horde.
A table, two cots, a couple of chairs, an old iron bed.
In the afternoon sun I’d listen to the cicadas chirring,
watch emerald green scarabs alight
on the shell-pink petals of the roses.

Antonia said there was a ghost in that house
Her name was Evangelitsa
She died in the bed with the iron bedstead where I slept.
“She must look on you with a good eye,” the village women said.
Her husband, the village drunk, died
from a fall off the bridge into the ravine.
Mine had suffered a parallel fate.
Evangelitsa and I were somehow kindred spirits.

One day a cat came. I named her Miss Kitty,
To me, she was Evangelitsa’s spirit.
She gave birth to a litter under the bushes in the orange grove
later brought them to me, one by one,
laid them at my feet…a gift.

I want to go inside my spitaki one more time
I want to visit Erasmia in her flower garden
on the patio where the shepherds sat under the mulberry tree
Nobody is there now. I remember the friendly banter
of the men over their glasses of krasi
I want to sit on the patio and chat with them,
catch up on village gossip,
blush as they tease me when I make mistakes with my elementary Greek,
flirt secretly with Mitso while Erasmia sits knitting, pretending to be our chaperone.

One night Mitso sneaked down to visit me
We sat on the steps and giggled like teen-agers pulling a fast one on our parents.
“This is the best life,” he said. “the Zoe.”
The day I met him on the road to Karystos,
he was riding his white horse, so handsome and tanned,
That smile of his enchanted me.
He asked me to marry him.
“Come and live in the village,” he said.
I hesitated. Knew if I did, and it failed, I’d never be able to return again.

Now they are gone, all my shepherd friends: Themistokles, Vassilis, Mitso
I listen for their voices,
hear only the faint, distant call of a kookovia
and the mournful bray of a donkey.

I climb down the stony path to the old mill.
It is quiet and cool under the shade of the big plane trees.
The waterfall makes a soothing splash
as it tumbles from a cleft in the mountainside.

I pick a spray of myrtle, white flowers with fuzzy stamens,

dark green shiny leaves.
On the stepping stones I cross the stream,
walk the dusty trail until I reach the hillside
where a little chapel stands guard over Lala’s cemetery.
There, among tumbled tomb-stones and knee-high weeds,
I search for Mitso’s grave,
trace my fingers over the mossy stone to find his name
remember then, that after five years bones are dug up,
washed in oil, placed in an ossuary.
I put the myrtle wreath on the grave that now holds his sister’s bones,
keep one sprig for myself.

The Greeks say if you take a sprig of myrtle home,
it means you will return again.
There once was so much life here, zoe.
Now it seems that the village has died.
and I know I can never return.

My last visit to Lala, where I spent several years living part time, I was disappointed to find that the village was deserted, almost as though aliens had taken everyone away. It was a sad day for me, a closure, ending all those happy days I had spent in my Garden of Eden.
I don't think I will ever return. What I didn't know the day I visited there, three weeks later, my friend Antonia, who had died of Parkinsons in the UBC Hospital in Vancouver, was buried in the Lala cemetary.

Reading "Return to Eden" at Poetic Justice

POETRY & PUBLICATIONS

2011-08-20T12:00:00.000-07:00

I have been totally immersed in the poetry world the past weekends. Two weeks ago I went to the book launch for this poetry anthology "Sudden Thunder" which has 3 of my poems in it, all thanks to Candice James who is the poet laureate of New Westminster BC. She and her partner published this anthology. It was quite a thrill to read from it, then sit and sign autographs with some of the other poets whose words were published in the book.

Reading at Hyack Square, New Westminster BC

The following weekend I was invited to read poetry at Hyack Square in New Westminster for the annual Culture Crawl. Again, this event was organized by Candice who has become my poet mentor.
This weekend I am one of the feature readers at Poetic Justice in NW and will read from the collection I am preparing for eventual publication, "Songs for Erato" (Tragoudia yia Erato) - poems written in or about Greece. Thanks to all this inspiration and encouragement I even wrote a new (long) poem for the collection this week, prompted by one line in a Yannis Ritsos poem.

Til now I've not taken my poetry that seriously although I've been writing it on occasions for some years. I have the collection "Hymns for Gods and Heroes" which was a challenge by a Greek/American friend to write a collection with an Alexander theme some years ago. It was read with accompanying flute music with two voices, a long time ago at a writer's event in Burnaby. And my old novel (which I am reviving now that Shadow is finished) has some chapters written in Bardic verse. (Amazing how I did that!)

So here I am - the poet who didn't know it! And it's become a fun diversion while I prepare final edits on my novel.

Meanwhile, I am writing up a storm with travel stories and getting a lot of new ones published either in EuropeUpClose, two accepted by Off Beat Travel and two more for Senior Living in early 2012. Also attempting to catch up with blogs and regain my readership here. It's been a very productive summer!

MY WRITER'S LIFE

2011-08-09T22:14:00.000-07:00

Reading poetry at the Heritage Grill

It seems my writing life has taken a new turn these days. While I am waiting to resume more edits on "Shadow of the Lion", I have been called upon to read some of my poetry. Last weekend at the Heritage Grill in New Westminster, I read 3 poems that were published in a new anthology "Sudden Thunder" with thanks to Candice James, poet laureate of New Westminster who has become my new poet mentor. I had not taken myself seriously as poet until Candice heard some of my work and has been encouraging me to read in public. Not that I haven't produced or read before, but my main genre in travel and historical fiction, and poetry doesn't always 'happen' for me except unexpectedly.

Now I am encouraged to enlarge my collection, mainly one I am working on which will be titled "Songs for Erato" (Tragoudia yia Erato)- poems written in or about Greece. I already have quite a few in the collection including a previously written collection "Songs for Gods and Heroes", written as 'hymns' or hymnos style when I was challenged some years ago by a Greek American poet friend to write a collection about Alexander the Great. There were written for two voices to be accompanied by music (such as a flute) and were presented at a reading some years ago at the Burnaby Art Gallery. I will also include a couple of lyric poems from my play about Sappho, "House of the Muses", as well as some new poems I wrote the last two times I was in Greece.

I'll be reading on the street in New Westminster next Sunday and I'm one of the feature readers the following week at Poetic Justice at the Heritage Grill.

While I am waiting to finalize the work (edits) on "Shadow" and retyping my old Celtic novel "Dragons in the Sky", I will rework some of my poems to get them ready for the collection I am hoping to eventually publish. Who would have thought? You know that old saying? "You're and poet and you didn't know it!" Well, that's me. A new way to express my thoughts. And I'm enjoying it! Now if only I could get the Muse to co-operate!

Here's a you-tube video of me reading one of the poems: "Socrates Prison"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7I6HMkp4pyc

www.youtube.com

courtesy of Candice James

A QUICK VISIT TO THE BARD'S HAUNTS & LOTS OF INSPIRATION FOR NEW TRAVEL STORIES

2011-07-16T19:51:00.000-07:00

One of the things I love about travel are the little surprises that come along the way. The first part of my journey this year was to visit England and Wales. Mainly, I wanted to see my cousins in Caerphilly, and to stop by Salisbury for a quick peek at Old Sarum, in hopes it would inspire me as I begin to rework my old novel, "Dragons in the Sky". ( Old Sarum is the setting for this Iron Age Britain tale.) While there, I was lucky enough to see Avesbury and Stonehenge, thanks to the generous offer of a guide, Keith, who writes for my on-line 'zine, Travel Thru History.

Anne Hathaway's Cottage

After my visit Wales, my cousin Chris drove down from Worcester to pick me up for a short visit to his town. The next day, we went to Warwick Castle which was another highlight of my holidays. But one of the surprises was, on route back to his place, we passed Stratford-upon-Avon and I mentioned how I'd always wanted to see Anne Hathaway's cottage, the home of Shakespeare's future wife. Chris, who is always obliging, said 'No problem', so we made a side trip to this historic site.

I've been a Shakespeare fan since I was 13 and saw my first stage production of "Richard III". Up to then I only knew about Shakespeare because I'd lived in Stratford, Ontario, on the Avon River where everything in town was named for the Bard. Nowadays, I often go to see productions of Shakespeare, especially each summer, here in Vancouver, at Bard on the Beach.

Anne Hathaway, who was destined to become Shakespeare's wife, grew up in a small village just to the west of Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire, England. The farmhouse where she lived in now a major tourist attraction. She married Shakespeare in November 1582 when she was pregnant with their first child. There was a fairly big age difference, Anne was 26 and Will was only 18. Some historians called this a 'shotgun marriage', however it seemed that Will had planned to marry her all along although there was a story that he had another Anne in mind and was forced by Hathaway's family to marry their pregnant daughter. Whatever the reason for their marriage, he didn't stay in Stratford for long, as he went to London to pursue his career of playwright, only returning to Stratford on occasions, although once he retired from the theatre he did return to live with her in Stratford.

A Bedroom in Anne Hathaway's House

Anne and Will had three children, Susanna who was born in 1583, and twins Hamnet and Judith born in 1583. Anne outlived Will and when she died August 1623 at the age of 67, she was interred next to her husband in the Church of the Holy Trinity, Stratford-upon-Avon.

The Anne Hathaway Cottage is a picturesque little thatch-roofed house just as I'd imagined, surrounded by a lovely typical English country garden. We were able to tour the house and I took a few photos including one of Shakespeare's courting chair. It was a quick visit, but a nice little bonus on a trip that had been so full of wonderful sites and opportunities.

Now I'm back I have a lot of material for travel stories so while I am waiting to resume the final cuts of my novel, Shadow of the Lion, I'm trying to get caught up. The first day back I pitched two ideas to a print magazine that were accepted and since then, I've pitched ideas to a couple of on-line travel magazines and they have also shown interest. So now the holiday is officially over, I'll be grounded and focused on all this new writing.

Shakespeare's Courting Chair

THE END OF A BUSY WRITER'S SEASON, WITH NEW ADVENTURES BECKONING

2011-06-04T21:42:00.000-07:00

Gulls flying over the Aegean Sea.

It's been a busy few months and now I'm ready for a rest and change of scene. So next week I'm heading off to England, Wales and then Greece for four weeks. It will be a reunion with cousins and friends but also a chance to explore some new territory when I go down to the Mani peninsula in the Peloponnese.

I just finished round #1 of the edits on my Shadow of the Lion manuscript. I did the spell-checks, formatting and cut a lot of chapters and repetitious passages, but it still need major cutting. So I will hopefully get a couple of pairs of extra eyes looking through it while I'm away, to make suggestions on what else can be cut. Although it wasn't too difficult a task, there are many places where I liked the writing and story and was afraid to cut just in case it would spoil the flow of the prose, or leave gaps in the story. Someone removed from the story and writing will be better able to decide on this. As a whole I am very happy with the novel and pleased with the writing so there wasn't much to be done in the way of revisions. Most had been done during the work on it, when I did a lot of block editing according to notes taken at my workshop group.

This term was busy with my classes as well and I was beginning to feel a little burned out by the time I got to the end last week. Only one goes all summer, and that's my little group at WAVES coffee shop on Monday mornings. I have someone to spare for me while I'm away. And in July, after my return, the school board has me scheduled for two nights of memoir classes.

Last week I was asked to present about writing travel memoirs at a travel writer's symposium, I've also been contributing new stories to www.EuropeUpClose.com There should be three more stories coming up soon, one on St. Fagans Heritage Park in Cardiff, one about Parga, Greece and another about the Gutenberg Museum in Mainz Germany.

The presenter at the Travel Writer's symposium

So you see, never a dull moment in this writer's life. I'm making an effort to catch up with my blogging too, and hope to regain some of the readership that no doubt I lost when I neglected to post here for months on end.

I'm not working on a novel now, other than retyping my old Celtic tale "Dragons in the Sky" which I will start work on later this summer. My plan is to write poetry this summer while I'm on holidays. I have an idea for a poetry chap-book containing poems about Greece. We'll see how successful this project will be as I find poetry has to just come to me, a whisper from the Muse. So, it will be more of a summer of exploring, starting with Stonehenge and Avebury and a visit to Old Sarum on the Salisbury Plain (that is part of my research for the Dragons novel), and lot of new destinations to check out in Greece that will supply me with more travel stories for the coming year.

Stay tuned, and keep track of me on my travel blog.

photo of me by Julie Ferguson
photo of the flying gulls, by me, taken on a boat sailing from Aegina.

TO CUT OR NOT TO CUT? THAT IS THE QUESTION.

2011-05-06T17:24:00.000-07:00

To cut or not to cut? And what to cut? This is the dilemma of the editing process. I knew when I started that I had a lot of cutting ahead of me and I've been doing just that -- eliminating whole chapters and many, many paragraphs, excess words, repetitions, excessive descriptions and anything at all that seems to slow down the pace. Still, I am only half way through the novel and I am already way too many pages over the required amount. Part of this is because I am using a different font, double spacing instead of 1 1/2 spaces and dropping chapter beginnings down 1/3 of a page.

The dilemma is in trying not to cut parts that are important to the story. Some places I have left intact and will have another go-through once I'm finished this first round. Then I intend to have other eyes peruse the work to see what they suggest. Trouble is, I don't want to chop too much and spoil the story line. I think historical novels need to be fairly meaty and I did a thorough job of research locations and developing characters that are realistic and believable. So I don't want to interfere too much with this.

There have been moments when I felt a bit discouraged and wondered if the novel is as good as I thought it was. But that is probably something all of us go through. Then again, there are passages that are just brilliant and I can hardly even remember writing them. Of course, those are the ones that definitely stay untouched.

I'd love to hear from other novel writers about what they've gone through in regards to the final editing of their manuscripts. I have Elizabeth Lyon's good book "Manuscript Makeover" which has been most helpful. But about now I need someone to cheer me on!

Tip-toeing Thru the Tulips and Lots of Other Stuff

2011-04-16T18:51:00.000-07:00

That's a photo of me posed in the tulip patch at Agassiz last Spring. This year Spring is a little late so I haven't been out to see the tulips as yet. But I've been wading through lots of other stuff, mainly writing tasks.

The editing on Shadow of the Lion is going well although I can see there'll be a couple more run-throughs before it's agent ready. Mainly the cutting is what will be the most difficult task. I'm chopping as much as I can for now but it's going to need more, for sure. And that will be more difficult because it will be more of my precious words that go to the cutting room floor!

I'm also trying to catch up with travel writing and have just completed another story with two more ready to polish off this weekend. Still a lot of ideas to work from and I have again fallen behind with blogging.

This week I had the privilege (again this year) of being part of the Human Library at Moscrop School. This is an amazing concept born in the States because of bullying. I think Moscrop is the only school here (or the first one) that has held this very worthwhile event. A number of people of various life-styles are invited to participate as 'books' in the library. My book title was "Living the Writer's Life" and "So You Want to be a Writer?" I think next year (if they invite me) I'll add "Senior Citizen Solo Traveler".

There were all kinds of people from a woman cop, a trans-gendered person, gays, a guy living with HIV, a young man who was a swimming champ and ended up having open-heart surgery, someone with MS, a lesbian mom etc. The school classes choose a 'book' to investigate and come to your table to chat. They ask questions and you answer. It's all designed to eliminate prejudices and misconceptions.
The event lasted all day from 8.30 am to 3.30 pm so it was a long day and rather tiring. I got home just in time to head out to teach a night school class so I was pretty exhausted by the end of the day.

Then yesterday I had a tourism event which was fun although when I was heading out for it I had some misgivings and almost turned around and came home. I have been feeling pressured and somewhat burned out lately with all the classes I teach, the hours of editing and trying to get new stuff written. Yesterday I started out with the gym, waterfit and then a massage. After that I had a meeting with a woman about editing and publishing her book. I would have loved to stay home last night. But I went anyway and was glad I did. It was a tourism promo for Anaheim, Orange Country, California. Lots of good snacks, endless wine and those California folk are so friendly. I also had met a travel-writer friend of mine on the bus going there so that added to the fun. It was held in the beautiful Seasons in the Park Restaurant in Queen Elizabeth Park, and although the weather was crappy and there wasn't a clear view of the mountains, it is still a beautiful place to be. All the cherry trees were in bloom and there were tulips and daffodils and hyacinths in the gardens making a very pretty sight in spite of the misty rain.

Today there were more writer's events going on but I opted to stay home to do editing and then I treated myself to lunch at a local restaurant. Went and fetched my new passport and was thrilled to find my tax returns have been deposited in my account. Wohoo! Suddenly Europe seems a lot closer.

OFF THE PAGE And Into the Classroom!

2011-03-30T22:53:00.000-07:00

"Off the Page" is a program sponsored by the Federation of B.C. Writers who has a grant to send writers into classrooms (any ages of children or teens) and talk about the writer's life, read their work, introduce kids to the life of a writer. I've participated three times in the past and found it a most rewarding experience. Yesterday, on my fourth Off the Page visit was, as usual inspiring and lots of fun.

I started writing between the ages of 8 and 10, first writing plays for my classmates and for friends to perform in grandpa's back yard when we lived in Stratford. (What better a place for a budding writer, in that Ontario town with everything named Shakespearean, even the River Avon!) When my family traveled across Canada by train after Dad came home from the war, I got interested in writing about pioneers, and later about the Biblical lands (Dad was a Baptist minister). Then it was the Romans, and by the time I was 16 I got introduced to my hero, Alexander the Great. I wrote stories, novellas, and plays. I recently found a box full of these old manuscripts which I've kept. A play about drugs in Vancouver's East End that I first wrote when I was 18 as a cautionary tale in 1953 and later reworked (without family or society censorship) was successfully produced by Theatre in the Raw in 2000.
But all during that time I was scolded for not paying attention to my school work. I couldn't understand math and science, had no interest in it at all. I wanted to be a writer and that was that! And when I got my first old Underwood typewriter when I was 16 years old I was thrilled beyond words! Now I could write like Ernest Hemingway and Tennessee Williams, my literary heroes! My mom was always being called into the school and told that I should be spending more time at my studies instead of writing. I nearly failed my final year of high school because I was writing my first Alexander themed novel.

Persian school boys

These days, kids are given many more opportunities and encouraged to develop their creativity. And the Off the Page program is just one way that we writers have of helping to stimulate this interest in the written word. My two groups yesterday were Grades 9 and 10. I spoke to them about my early desire to write and how through the years by persevering my dream has come to fruition and now I am a full time writer. I demonstrated the different types of writing including poetry, and with each group I did writing exercises. For the older group I had them write about a place they loved in 50 words to get the gist of writing short for the internet. The younger group had prompts from my Idea Jar and wrote on various subjects. They were shy about sharing but the teachers were encouraging and believe me, there was some excellent writing displayed! It was truly an inspiring and rewarding morning spent at Moscrop School with the fine teachers, Leanne Sjodin and Dr. Gail Joe. I was impressed!

I'll be going back to that school again next month to participate in "The Human Library" which I was invited to do for the second year. I will be a 'book' in the library titled "So You Want to be a Writer?" The children come into the library, choose and book and ask questions. It's really a lot of fun and again, a rewarding experience.

It's important to nurture young talent and give encouragement to kids who have a desire to write. And it's heartening nowadays to see that there are teachers who care and programs to stimulate this creativity. I am proud and glad to have participated in the Off the Page and commend the Federation of BC Writers for promoting such a terrific opportunity for writers and school kids!

http://bcwriters.com/off_the_page.php

A WRITER'S BUSY LIFE!

2011-03-27T19:53:00.000-07:00

Pablo Neruda's House "La Chascona"

Santiago, Chile

Between winding up my classes and catching up on travel writing, besides editing Shadow of the Lion, it seems I have not had much time for blogging, other than to add a couple of new travel blogs (sometimes using old stories!)

But here I am, unwinding on a Sunday night after a productive day topped off with two stories getting accepted for an on-line publication (EuropeUpClose), posting another travel blog, and going for a nice long walk for some exercise.

The final edits of Shadow went very well -- the red-pencilling part. Now I have to start working on the new file on the computer and all the little icky-picky things that are necessary to get the novel into tip-top shape. I'm approaching it in a relaxed manner. There's been enough stuff going on around here to stress me out, so I want to have a fresh mind each time I sit down to go over the manuscript.

In between, I've been getting a few new travel stories written: (1) a story about touring Pablo Neruda's houses in Chile (2) updating some old stories that haven't been published (3) catching up on writing all the other stories I've had on the back-log while busy writing for The Vancouver Guide. Now my time is a bit more freed up and I am enjoying the change of pace, especially getting used to the more casual 'blog-style' writing.

Pretty soon I want to start working on my old novel, but I don't want to disrupt the work I still have to do on Shadow. Hoping to get it all ship-shape in the next month.

In two weeks my classes all start up again for the Spring session, so I have to prepare programs and hand-out material for them. Also, this week I will be presenting at school, attending two classes to talk about being a writer. This is for the Off the Page Program sponsored by the Federation of B.C. Writers. I've done it three times in the past and it was always a great experience. And later in the month, at the same school, I'll be participating again in the "Human Library" where I will represent myself as a book about being a writer.

So my life is full. Really, I work every day on my writing and lately have made myself take a break, so I started back to the gym, go to waterfit twice a week and on the weekend I try to go on a good long walk. Sitting at the computer for too long is very hard on the eyes and body!

Meanwhile, I'm working on my summer plans. In spite of the upsets lately -- the unexpected news of my apartment sale and some other sad news about friends passing -- I have decided to take charge of my life and go ahead with my plans for summer. So this week I'll be checking in with my travel agent and applying for a renewed passport. Time to hit the road again!

HOW SERIOUS ARE YOU ABOUT YOUR WRITER'S LIFE?

2011-03-09T15:55:00.000-08:00

This is where I spend anywhere from 4 - 8 hours a day (or more)

This blog was prompted by a recent comment made to me by another writer suggesting that the reason I wasn't accepted into a big writer's organization was that perhaps I was not considered to be 'qualified', but simply a 'hobbyist." This really riled me, under the circumstance, when I have been working pretty well full-time as a write for the past few years. Even before that, when I worked either full-time or part-time in daycare, I was careful to spend all my extra time at the computer composing, teaching writing classes, attending workshops and marketing my work.

For years now I've kept a daily 'time sheet' to monitor the time I spend writing or in writing-related activities. This isn't just for my own benefit, but because yearly I declare a self-employment income as a writer and in case I should be audited I need to prove that I'm conscientiously attempting to make a living from my writing. At the same time, I've warned people who sign up for my travel writing courses and tell me "I want to make a career change", not to quit their day job. Because chances are, especially in this day and age with cut-backs in the print markets and very little (if any) pay for on-line writing, unless you are employed by a publisher you will not make enough to live on. I only manage by earning money teaching writing and by collecting the measly pension allotted 'retired' people. The money I get back yearly from my tax refund is what buys my ticket for another trip. And if I'm going to join a big writer's organization, I'm not going to pay and arm and a leg to join when I could never afford to fly across the country to their conventions or go on their comp trips. I do belong to one local writer's organization that I find helpful and beneficial and once again this year got chosen for their Off the Page Program, to go into school and talk writing to kids and get paid for it. The other group I belong to, the travel writers, has provided a couple of winning tickets for trips but other than their name on my business cards, not much else.

When I've tried joining this other big organization I've been told they did not accept on-line writing (at least not until recently and it all depends on the traffic on the site); they do not consider the fact I edit and publish my own travel 'zine (same reason) and don't recognize that I teach travel writing at night school (though at the moment I don't have a Travel class, just creative writing). For the last few years I've written daily for another on-line travel 'zine (the Vancouver Guide. www.istopover.com) and been paid fairly well for my efforts as well as having some print publications (paid) and other on-line publications (paid). But apparently this isn't good enough and I am therefore labeled 'not qualified'. Well, piss on that!

I went through my work (on-line links as well as print publications) just to see how many stories I've published since my very first story went into Arrival Travel & Leisure back in 1983 (for which I was paid about $150.) I was amazed at my body of work. Everything from shortened pieces in local free newspapers (that paid a whole $5) to my biggest achievement in a glossy magazine that got me $700. including photos. I made this list not only for my own benefit, but because on my new website, which is to introduce me to potential agents/publishers as I start my journey trying to market Shadow of the Lion, I wanted to have a list of published work available. It includes the work I did on the APA Insight Guide travel book of Vancouver & Environs in 1993 for which I also got paid a pretty penny and got to learn how to use a computer.

It's true, that if you want to be a writer (and especially if you expect to collect a self-employment rebate on your taxes) you need to prove you are a serious writer trying to make a living. This means you have to be sending stories out and getting the work done. Which is, writing more than once or twice a year or giving your work away to these publications (there are too many) who expect you to contribute your work for free while they glean benefits from their own site. (The reason I started Travel Thru History www.travelthruhistory.com was because I got sick of being bullied by an on-line editor who did just that. I decided to start my own site where I could mentor new writers, pay them a small stipend and let them at least get 'rewarded' for their efforts. No, I don't make money on my site other than what I get from the google ads. But I find it rewarding enough to see the great stories that get contributed to my site each month and to know the thrill first-time writers feel when they see their work in print.

Besides my travel writing I do other work and recently completed a long historical fiction novel that required tons of discipline to write and many hours of research. That has been my biggest achievement so far and it will be the biggest thrill of my life when I see Shadow of the Lion in print. But there's still lots of work ahead, besides the final editing, the marketing process. Meanwhile I have to get those travel stories written that I've had on hold, and plan new programs for my Spring classes.

Writing for me IS a full time job. I spend anywhere from 4 to 8 hrs a day at the computer and sometimes much longer. That's not counting the time I spend at classes or going to and from classes on public transit. And then there's my own critique group I belong to each week. We have to produce writing for that. It helps keep you focused to belong to a writer's group and I've found my Scribblers group to be invaluable as I struggled through the long epic saga of Shadow. Now I'm ready to start finishing that other novel I'd set aside so long ago to write Alexander's story. It's an exciting new prospect and one that will be sure to keep me at my computer hours at a time when perhaps I'd rather be out strolling in the sun or watching TV.(The TV doesn't go on in my house until the 11.30 pm news).

Yes, my writer's life is a full time commitment, and I will not let anyone suggest to me that it's otherwise. I know I am qualified. My track record for publication, recognition by other writers and by those who have successfully completed my courses and published their own work tells me that.

REVISITING OLD SARUM

2011-03-06T22:08:00.000-08:00

Old Sarum

Last night I took my boxes out of the storage closet and found my box of manuscripts, some of them written when I was just a teenager. The most important one I was looking for was the manuscript of my unfinished Celtic novel, "Dragons in the Sky". I had half finished this novel before getting bogged down and setting it aside to write "Shadow of the Lion", which at the time was intended as a juvenile historical.
"It'll only take me about a year to write," I thought. All these years later I finally did finish it and now I want to return to finish Dragons.

Inside the manuscript folder were pages of notes I'd made during my research, in particular for the last part of the book which (yes!) takes place in Greece. Yes, there is an Alexander connection with this story! And I found a copy of the MSS and a note I'd written to my dear Aunt Grace who wanted to read it.
"Dragons in the Sky" is a story about sacrifices - both the literal and personal types. It's the story of a young girl whose life is spared for the service of the gods and of the sacrifices she makes in her life from the loss of her innocence to her maturity, and eventual motherhood when she must give up her own child in order to return to her homeland.

The story is a first person narrative, the story of a Celtic girl, Olwen, who's 'voice' I have heard from the very first time I sat on the earth mount at Old Sarum on the Salisbury Plain and knew at that instant that this was the place the story took place. In the novel, I call it "Caer Gwyn".

Iron Age village, St. Fagans, Wales

Last summer I visited St. Fagans Heritage Park in Wales and was thrilled to tour through an iron age 'village' much like the one Olwen lived in. Two years ago I had revisited Old Sarum although I'd like to go again when I'm not so rushed and alone. I'd been there twice before, the first time by accident when I'd noticed a sign in the bus depot about the Iron Age hill fort, and decided to walk there. I knew instantly, when I arrived that this was where Olwen's story began. I went there once again a year later and spent a lot of time wandering about catching the spirits.

Me, in front of one of the wattled huts like the one Olwen lived in.

Writing "Dragons in the Sky" was as if I was actually channelling the spirit of this girl, Olwen, who wanted me to tell her story. Maybe her story was mine from another lifetime. The strange thing was, Olwen's father had come from Senghenydd (an ancient holy centre in what is now Wales). When her mother died and her father brought her to the stone circle on the Plain and she was cared for by the Druids, and became an acolyte of the Raven clan. I didn't know at the time, until my father told me much later when he read the first part of the novel, that my great-grandfather was from Senghenydd and had died there in a mining disaster at the turn of the century. There were many such deja-vu kind of experiences for me during the writing of that novel.

I was worried, when I took that manuscript out of the box, that perhaps after so many years the writing would not be so good, and the story wouldn't be as interesting as when I started writing it and listening to Olwen speak. But I started to read through it and was amazed at how her voice 'sang' to me -- the cadence of the prose and the beautiful story unfolding.

I had original written it on a portable typewriter. Now I must transpose it onto the computer and will do editing as I go along (as well as workshopping in my critique group). So Olwen's voice will be heard again. And this time I hope her story is completely told! I can hardly wait to begin again.

Some Endings, Some New Beginnings

2011-03-04T17:01:00.000-08:00

The end of 2010 was exciting for me when I finally finished writing "Shadow of the Lion". Starting off the New Year, I took a little break from the novel and continued with other writing, tried to catch up with some long-delayed travel stories, and of course my weekly writing for Planet Eye (www.iStopOver.com) which I've been doing since 2008.

In February I went on a little trip to the mountains, a lovely ski resort "Sun Peaks" and when I returned I prepared to write a special assignment story about it for Planet Eye. The day after I returned from my wonderful family holiday in the mountains, I was shocked to learn my landlord had put my apartment up for sale. The night before, when I arrived home after my short vacation, I had marvelled at how much I loved my dear little place and how happy I have been here for the last 4 1/2 years. Then the bomb dropped! I have been living in limbo ever since, not quite sure if or when I will have to move, or what I'll do next.

I did get the assignment story ready for Planet Eye written and also a couple of other travel stories which I intend to market. Meanwhile, I also began the editing of Shadow of the Lion.

The Acropolis from the Pnyx

Today I completed Part IV, revisiting Pella in Macedonia and Athens. It was interesting reading back the dialogues between the new Regent and his Assembly, the antagonist Kassandros and his crew as they plot to overthrow the Regent, and the Senators in Athens arguing about how they will get the Macedonians out of their city. I've been enjoying my journey back to these old familiar places with the characters I grew to know so well.

I'm looking forward to travelling again and hope that the disruption of my impending move does not interfere with my plans to return to Wales and Greece this summer.

Meanwhile, my work with Planet Eye has ended after a long stint with them (since 2008) because iStopOver is no longer publishing their stories. I will use this new 'free' time to catch up on travel writing. And as soon as I am able to I'll dig the old manuscript of "Dragons in the Sky" out of the closet and start retyping it into the computer with the intention of finally finishing it. (I had quite working on it when I started Shadow)

There's lots to look forward to even though I will be regretful at having to move from my cozy little apartment. Who knows when that will be? I just have to wait and see and anticipate a bright new beginning.

RED-PENCILLING MY WAY THROUGH: Another Part of a Long Journey

2011-03-01T22:51:00.000-08:00

PELLA

My journey through Alexander's world didn't end when I came to the final chapter of the novel. Now I'm retracing my steps, red pencil in hand, this time not as a writer, but as the editor.

I've actually been making good progress. The first two parts went quickly with not many notes or edits. Then from Chapter 18 on it began to bog down somewhat and I was marking more parts with 'OMIT'
There are places in Part 3 where I did a lot of research and wanted to use the information which I found very interesting. Of course now I see where it was not necessary and although I had fun writing it and developing the characters further, it did not move the plot forward and in fact slowed down the pace.

I knew from the start I'd have to cut lots of the novel as it is much to long to be acceptable, so I am able to be more critical and wield that pen like a sword cutting, cutting, cutting, slashing my way through clunky prose, bits of dialogue and internal thought that are too mature for a child's mind, entertaining passages like the Persians celebrating their New Years, which was fun to write but does nothing to increase the tension. I'm trying to be tough as a warrior here, mowing down all those unwanted passages.

Then I got to the Interlude for Part 3 and again the action picked right up. I thought that interlude might be too long but it is packed full of action and violence ramping up the tension full-force. And the last scene of that interlude, with the dying Regent sets up very clearly all the conflict that is about to happen in the last half of the story.

So progress is good and I'm enjoying the process, distancing myself from it as a writer but still having fun on the journey. And because I haven't read much of it for some time, there are always surprises, and little trips down memory lane remembering when I visited places like Samothraki, Amphipolis and Pella, and I see how my research notes for setting details etc shine through and breathe life into those ancient places.

Once I finish the red pencilling I'll start working on the computer again. And then there's things like checking name spellings, correct terminology for the Macedonian army officers etc. It will take me awhile yet, but I can see that it is going well and that is encouraging.

Meanwhile, I'm not doing much other writing except for some travel stories. And one of these days when I feel it's time, I'll dig the old manuscript of Dragons in the Sky out of the box and start retyping it.
Til then, I'll enjoy my journey through Alexander's world. I miss my old friends there!

LIVING THE EDITOR'S LIFE

2011-02-21T22:56:00.000-08:00

Me, reading from "Shadow of the Lion" at the wrap party.

These days, aside from some travel writing for http://www.istopover.com/ and working on some of the travel stories that I have back-logged in my files while I spent time on Shadow of the Lion, I have begun the final edits for the novel.

I try to do a few chapters a day, red pencilling in corrections and making notations for changes or omits.

Yesterday I spent 3 hours with my critique reader going over some of the parts she has been reading for me. She was enthusiastic about the story, amazed at the research and the character development. And was impressed with the way I've built the tension throughout, which was good to know because in such a long saga it's hard to tell if you've done this or not.

She says she is enjoying the story so much it's hard for her to choose what I should cut. But I know the novel needs lots of cutting so I guess that means the 'editor' (me) will have to be a bit brutal. For now, though I'm just noting the places that probably can be eliminated. After all the red pencilling is done, I'll start working from hard copy to computer again and set up a new file for the more polished version.

It's a bit strange being the 'editor' now, instead of the writer. I have to admit I miss my characters and wish they were still running around in my head, but I can't let them interfere with the technical work so I've had to put them out of mind. I think that taking a week or two break before starting the editing was helpful, as I am now more distanced from the story and can be more objective.

Today I spent several hours with an actor friend who is going over the first act script of my play about Sappho, "House of the Muses". She has been reading and critiquing it and gave me loads of helpful hints for improving it. Looking at the play script is different from the novel and what she has pointed out is important for me to know. She also suggested perhaps I should take another playwright's course to workshop the script which I think would be an excellent idea.

However, one thing at a time. I must not get sidetracked from the work on Shadow so I am not intending to work on the play until later. When I took the workshop at the playwright's centre a couple of years ago I didn't get any of this valuable feedback and that's why I got discouraged with it, even though I knew it was a good idea. Now at least I know where I can begin and what to do to make it better. That in itself is pretty exciting.

So, for now, the busy bee editor has lots to do with her novel manuscript. But sometime before too long the writer will go back to work on new projects. I'm quite excited about those prospects!

Oh yes, take a look at my website and you'll see a page about Shadow of the Lion. I still have another couple of pages to add later on -- one for plays and one for travel. http://www.ruthkozak.com/

WHERE AM I NOW?

2011-02-16T16:30:00.000-08:00

My writing space

This week I have started the final editing on my manuscript of "Shadow of the Lion". I bought a very useful book "Manuscript Makeover" by Elizabeth Lyon and recommend it to anyone who is planning to edit their novel or short story manuscript in preparation to send it off to a publisher. Besides that, I've had someone doing a thorough reader's critique and making notes where I need to change or cut. So far the job is going quickly. Today I already finished red pencilling Part One with very few corrections or necessary adjustments or tweaks. It's amazing how 'polished' it was and that is because I did block editing and workshopped each 'scene' as I was writing it.

It's also interesting to go back and read 'fresh' what I had written so long ago. Amazing, really, as some of it seems as if it came from someone else. I can't remember where I got those words or when I put them down so astutely! I'm sure, though, that as I go through it I'll find the parts that are not so smooth and those will likely be what gets cut. Because I do have a lot of cutting to do in order to keep the manuscript to a workable and publishable length.

I have a good team lined up - my critique reader and a professional editor and someone else who offered to do proof reading. So that's a good start. And already I've had a little 'bite' about it although I am not going to start the big pitch to agents just yet. I could though, as the first 3 chapters are pretty polished. But I still have to set it up in a new file on my computer and make sure it looks as professional as possible. And that will come next.

Pretty soon I'm going to set up a special blog for the novel where I can add links to interesting facts about Alexander and the history that I have written about in the book. I also have an "Introduction to Shadow of the Lion" group on Facebook, so if you're a Facebooker, take a look at that!

Meanwhile, stay tuned for the next reports. These are a different type of 'progress report' that I was blogging about before when I was still writing. Now you'll be hearing from the Editor's Desk!

REVISITING ALEXANDER'S WORLD

2011-01-25T23:13:00.000-08:00

Alexander the Great

It's not always easy to go back to a place you left a long time ago because sometimes, when you do, you find things just aren't the same as you remembered and it is often a disappointment. On the other hand, 'going home again' can also resurrect a lot of nostalgic feelings, good ones as well as perhaps some unhappy memories. When I returned to my little mountain village in Evvia, Greece, two summers ago I was very upset to find it so deserted, so changed! Houses were shuttered. People were gone. Probably a lot of the elders had passed away. It was an eerie experience wandering through that tiny place where I'd spent so much time -- my Garden of Eden. I thought of returning last year but somehow couldn't bring myself to do it. I'd rather be left with the memories of when I lived there part time and frolicked on the mountainside with the shepherd and my village friends.

This week I returned to Alexander's world, the world I had created in my novel "Shadow of the Lion". I'd finished writing it at the end of 2010 after many years of labour including reams of research, traveling to sites in Greece and Turkey, and spending some of that time living in Greece while I researched and wrote. It seemed to take forever to write the novel. People kept questioning me why it wasn't finished yet. Of course, I'd had other projects that took up my time as well as during the first couple of years I worked full time. But finally, it was finished, and I had said goodbye to my old friends in Alexander's world.

It's a funny thing when you get to 'the end' of a novel. It still hasn't really sunk in, partly because I had written the ending almost from the beginning, and as it was based on a historical time-line I knew how the story would unfold. But it was my imagination and creative license that made the characters come alive, and having visited many of the places that set the scenes in the story, I was really 'living' the story. Perhaps I'm still not totally grasping that it's done. For the first week afterwards the characters kept speaking to me until I had to silence them. The writer's task is over. Next, the editor will take over.

But to celebrate I decided (as I'd planned for some years) to have a 'wrap' party. And that is coming up this weekend. A celebration of the completion of the writing. So I had to make a visit to Alexander's world again to choose what segments I would read to my guests as they have all been waiting to hear the story.

The Ishtar Gate, Babylon

It was interesting going back to read the early part of the novel that was written so long ago. Scary, in a way, because your writing in the beginning may not be as good as the more recent writing. However I was delightfully surprised to find that I was reading almost as a first-time reader would. It had been written long enough ago that most of it was really 'fresh' to me. And I some of it, as I read, even brought tears to my eyes!

I decided to begin my reading for the reception at my home with the very opening part of the novel, which is set in Babylon at the time of Alexander's death, because this sets the scene and indicates the conflict. Later, for the short reading I intend to do at the taverna party, I'll read some smaller parts describing the women in the story. It took me a couple of days to choose which parts to read and to make sure they weren't too long. I have read bits of Shadow in the past at various readings so I'm used to hearing it aloud. In fact, when I first started writing it, I used to tape it and play it back, to hear the cadence of the prose. (This is an interesting experiment for writers to try.)

I'm getting quite excited about the wrap party. A lot of people requested invitations and it's somewhat overwhelming planning how to fit everyone in, but I'm sure it will work out just fine. And it is certainly something to celebrate!

Now I'm ready to start the final edits, which I intend to work on next month. And when the book is finally marketed and published, there will be another grand party: a 'launch' party!

CREATING A SEMBLANCE OF ORDER

2011-01-19T16:10:00.000-08:00

Athena

In spite of the euphoria of having finished my novel, and once the Christmas/New Years celebrations were over, planning my next moves, the past few weeks have been somewhat chaotic. Instead of getting terribly distracted, I've tried to create a semblance of order so that I could stay focused on my next plans.

Things were going along fairly serenely after the holiday season and I was relaxing, taking time to sort out what to do next, in order of important. For one thing, I'm giving the novel a rest (at least, giving my brain a rest and refused to let the characters keep bugging me after that first few days. Now I am not thinking about it so constantly other than what next?) What next will be the editing and I have plans to begin it the weekend I go up the mountain to Sun Peaks Resort. Yes! What a grand surprised to be invited up to the resort by my daughter and her partner to celebrate their birthdays and the visit of my grandson and his girlfriend from California. There'll be other people there as well, as it seems they have rented a condo or something, but as many of the guests will be skiing or 'boarding I figure it will be a good time to start the editing (on the page first, before I edit the on-line manuscript which I'll do once I get home.)

Then I made plans about what to do with my writing next. Once I had preps made for my Winter classes, I knew it was time to start catching up on the list of travel stories I have yet to produce. And I also promised myself to blog and write in my journal more frequently. This is the writing part of the program. I also had promised myself to get more consiencious about exercising and getting myself to the waterfit classes. And as two of my morning groups are cancelled that frees up this important time for me.

Then, with plans all made, there was a glitch that turned things into a bit of disorder over the past couple of weeks. First, I agreed to doggie sit with my friends dear little Pom and at that time my friend from Washington was coming up for a reunion weekend of fun. The same day I got Nikki here, Corinne was coming here to visit, got lost on the Drive, let her dog Napoleon out for a pee, and he got struck by a car and killed. It was a trauma like I've not seen in some time. My friend was totally devastated to the point where she was incoherent, and once safely here (dead dog stored on my balcony) she started self-medicating herself til I thought she herself would O.D. Meanwhile little doggie Nikki who is very elderly, wouldn't eat or drink water and was hardly able to walk or stand. By the end of that week I sent her off to the vets who said there was nothing wrong with her. Meanwhile, my friend's daughter flew up to take charge of her mother and we convinced Cor that she couldn't cart the dead dog back over the border but must get it cremated. That problem solved, they finally went back home, but by then I was totally stressed out. The care of the little doggie proved stressful as well because I was worried about her and afraid she might pass away while in my hands. My friend (Nikki's mom) arrived back from holidays last night and from today I am trying to get back a semblance of order in my life. You might say I have coined a new meaning to the expression "Dog Tired."

Socrates

But it doesn't end there: Besides my dear Welsh cousin Shiela having a stroke the end of November and not responding to treatment, another close friend is near dying in hospital from pneumonia and congestive heart failure, and another very good friend who was one of our role models because of her vibrant, healthy life, had a burst appendix which damaged her bowels and is now incapacitated and probably will be forever confined to care. It's all a huge shock and hard not to think about it and feel very depressed and upset.

I'm glad I have my writing (and classes) to distract me at times like this. One begins to feel terribly mortal and vulnerable when friends start falling. Fortunately I am healthy and stay active. I absolutely HAVE to because I have to get this novel completely tidied up and marketed. And as travel writing is part of my income, I need to focus on getting those stories written!

Hence I am trying distract myself from the stressful things that are happening around me. Of course they are on my mind, especially my dear friends who are in such dire straights, but I must not let depressing thoughts take over in place of those important creative ones. I must create a semblance of order out of all the events that have been and are happening. There's lots of work to be done ahead of me. I can't afford to stray off course, no matter what!

Sculpture in National Gardens, Athens

START, STOP & START AGAIN: How to Keep Going With Your Novel

2011-01-09T10:57:00.000-08:00

Alexander on his horse Bucephalus, riding East to his conquest of Persia

When Alexander mounted his horse Bucephalus, and rode east to drive the Persians out of Greek territories in Asia Minor, did he imagine how long his journey would take, or how far he would travel?

Alexander's journey took ten years with many battles and several stop-overs, ending with his death in Babylon in 323 BC. His legacy lived on for fourteen more years until the murder of his family members ended his dynasty.

The royal city of Pella, in Macedonia (northern Greece) where Alexander was born.

My journey with Alexander as I wrote "Shadow of the Lion" took just as long, involving much research (which included the first of several visits to Pella as well as other Alexander sites in Greece and Turkey). At the time, I had been working on a Celtic novel, which also happens to have an Alexander connection, but it had become bogged down, so I changed my focus. After a year of research I started writing the story about Alexander's little-known legal heir, Alexander IV (who uses his Persian name, Iskander, in my novel.) "Shadow of the Lion" was intended to be a juvenile historical but after a year of writing, I realized it was too political a story to be told as a 'juvenile' and it was suggested by a published kid's book writer that I begin again and tell it the way it would work best.

Then came the more complicated part as I decided to write it in a multiple point of view. Lots more research required. Several more trips to Greece (living there six months at a time while I researched and wrote. note: when I first began the original manuscript I was working full time in daycare. In 1993 I quit my full-time work so I could concentrate on my novel and during the '90's spent a lot of time living part-time in Greece, researching and traveling to Alexander sites.) My novel begins in Babylon, at the time of Alexander's death. It ends in Alexandria, Egypt. I have as yet not visited Egypt and, of course, could not visit the site of ancient Babylon in Iraq, so this was part of my research. The Persians play an important role in my novel so I also did extensive research about their culture and history.

Ancient Babylon

Alexander made several stops along his route where he established colonies. He got as far as the Hydaspes River in India and would have pressed farther east had his men not insisted on going back. My novel got stalled a couple of times along the way, once when I took two years off to revise and rewrite a play that was later successfully produced ("The Street: A Modern Tragedy", 2000). I also took breaks to do travel writing and started another play based on the life of the lyric poet Sappho which I later shelved to focus entirely on the novel.

How did Alexander keep focused on his goal, to conquer the world and bring Hellenism to Asia? He was possessed by his desire to keep going east and he achieved his goal by determination and skill which was undermined in the end by his manic behavior and excesses. In writing a novel you have to be possessed by determination and a will to achieve your goal. At times (to your unwriterly friends) it might seem a bit 'manic' as you become consumed with your characters and story. They will possess your life; you live with them, consult with them, write about them every day, sometimes (like me) for years. You need the tenacity of a dog with a bone to be able to not let go until you achieve your goal. Sure, sometimes you need to take a break, step back, look at things through fresh eyes. And sometimes doubt and resistance will definitely stand in your way. But you have to believe in what you are doing and keep your eye on that vision.

One thing a lot of novice novel writer's do is to work on too many different projects at one time. Often they don't have a clear idea of where they are going with the novel before they begin, so they get easily lost along the way. I found that once I established the 'theme' for my novel and mapped out the route (I was writing from a historical plot so knew which way I was going)it was easier to get started and stay on track.

When I found myself being too distracted, I set aside other work I was doing (the Sappho play, for one) and decided I must focus totally on "Shadow of the Lion" if I ever wanted to get it finished. As I am a travel journalist and also write weekly for an on-line travel magazine as well as editing and publishing my own, that meant I had to organize my time. Although I am now a full-time writer, I spend a certain number of hours a week instructing writing classes. And there is always the on-going distractions that we are confronted with: our day-to-day lives, social and work commitments, and at home those big distractions like the TV, telephone and Internet!

So I asked myself what was the most important thing? Well, my novel came first. Any travel stories I haven't had time to write, I knew I could do once I finished Shadow. Finishing my novel was the most important thing I wanted to do so I set the goal (for at least the tenth time) to finish it by the end of 2010. And I did!

Now comes the editing and cutting, which is not the writer's job, but the editor's. So I can resume my 'writer's' role and now catch up on those travel stories, blogs, and the last act of the play that I have neglected. And once I am caught up with that I intend to resume writing the other work-in-progress novel that I set aside way back when I thought I could write the juvenile historical about Alexander's son and have it finished in a year!

There are many challenges ahead on the road to publication, but I can begin 2011 with a great sense of achievement. The story of the fall of Alexander's dynasty has been told. Now it must be made available for others to read.

WHAT NEXT?

2011-01-04T19:50:00.000-08:00

Here I am with the final pages of "Shadow of the Lion" 

What to do next? It's a funny feeling, finishing a long project like "Shadow of the Lion" has been. Of course, it's not really over yet, because there is still the final editing/cutting, pitching for an agent and publisher. But I have those all planned out, it's just a matter of deciding when to start the editing. My reading critiquer has finished the first two parts, but I felt I needed a little break to clear my head before the 'editor' takes over. I have to say that the first few days after finishing, I kept on thinking about it, wanting to stop to jot down notes. Until I finally told myself (firmly!) "Quit it! You are done for now!"
After all those years of carrying that story around in my head it has been very difficult to let it go!

Meanwhile, I have lots of travel stories to write as I set aside most of them while striving to finish the novel. And this week I was offered a gig writing a bio story about a musician friend of mine. Today I spent the afternoon interviewing her, later in the week I'm going to photograph her with her blue-grass group. At the same time I plan to do a restaurant review of the venue. And, of course I am still producing stories (at least 5 a month -- sometimes more ) for Planet Eye (now iStopOver travel magazine) for The Vancouver Guide. www.istopover.com (North America, Vancouver)

Next week some of my classes start and I haven't even begun to figure out this next session's program as yet never mind sorting out handout stuff to take into the School Board office for printing. Every once in awhile I feel really mind-boggled with all there is to do and meanwhile, the festive social events keep on happening. I really do need a vacation!

For starters I am trying reorganize my diet/exercise program (the usual, first on the list resolutions). And tidy up my piles of papers and accumulated junk. Once I have a tidy work space, perhaps I'll feel more motivated to begin!

My work space (when it's tidy!)

Note: The photo of me, above, was taken by a friend who is doing a bio about me for a magazine.

PROGRESS REPORT # 75 : SO IT ENDS

2010-12-30T23:29:00.000-08:00

Ptolemy Soter

Prologue: Babylon, the 28th day of Daesius (June) 323 BC
Ptolemy, companion and illegitimate half-brother of Alexander the Great writes in his journal:

'Today, the 28th of Daesius ,an ominous darkness has descended over city. Alexander is dead. When I looked at him, he seemed to be at peace at last. There was, in his eyes, a look of calm acceptance. I have wept for him. He was a god and man. He will continue to live, I think, forever and ever, for thousands and thousands years.’

Ptolemy wrote memoirs on Alexander's campaigns. He was one of Alexander's most faithful companions and friend, allegedly an illegitimate half brother of Alexander. He could have tried to take over the army after Alexander died, but he chose instead to go to Egypt and establish the city of Alexandria as Alexander had wished. He became the first Ptolemaic Pharaoh of Egypt and his dynasty lasted for many years. (The Cleopatra that we know in the histories was from his lineage. 'Cleopatra' was in fact a Macedonian royal name.) In "Shadow of the Lion" he is the royal blue thread in the tapestry, telling Alexander's story in the prologue and epilogue and appearing throughout the novel. Although some historians saw him as self-aggrandizing, from what I have read and researched, I saw him as an honest, loyal and honourable man. He is one of the sympathetic characters in the novel, and the 'uncle' who Iskander (Alexander's son) sees as a savior.

It has been a long, long journey for me writing this novel. Many stops, starts, several hiatuses when I was working on other writing (plays, memoirs and travel writing. Even some poetry related to the story, my collection of 12 Homeric Hymns "Hymns to Gods and Heroes"). But now, at last, my journey has ended. The telling of the tale, for sure, but there's still work for the 'editor' to do: polishing, tweaking, cutting, looking for an agent/publisher. Still, when I wrote the end this week I felt a great sense of accomplishment. And I have a lot of people to thank for their encouragement and assistance. There will be a page of acknowledgements in the front of the book when it's published.

The journey started in Babylon for my characters, taking them through the Middle East, Egypt, and finally north to Macedonia. It was a journey of almost 13 years. Mine took longer than that, including a year and more of research before I began; an attempt to write it as a juvenile historical which I abandoned after a year when I realized the story was too political and complex. I spent a lot of time in Greece doing research, with the help of Classical scholars, the Greek Ministry of Culture, the secretary of the Society of Macedonian Studies and many friends there and here. There were a lot of halts on the journey, conflicts, problems, joyous times and sad times. But now, it's done. Do I feel relief? Am I sad? Well, I have had the ending written right from the beginning, so I already knew how it would end, so it wasn't quite as much of a shock to me as it might have been had it been really 'fresh' writing. I think when I wrote the end of the epilogue I felt the impact. But it probably won't be for a few days yet that the full realization comes over me. It's done! It will be strange to not be thinking about it 24/7, jotting notes down in my notebook, getting up in the night to record lines of dialogue or setting detail that I suddenly thought of. I have been living with these characters for a long, long time. They are real people in my mind, just as most of them were real people in history. So, yes, I will miss them.

Epilogue: Alexandria, the 28th day of Daesius (June) 310 BC

Ptolemy has received word from Amphipolis, Macedon, and writes this in his journal:

'And now Alexander’s dynasty has ended. Such is life, the way of men -- that in the twinkling of an eye an Empire can collapse. We are driven by greed to win fame and power in unrighteous ways and the more we have, the more we covet, until greed and blind ambition destroys us.’

SO IT ENDS

Funeral urn containing the remains of a Macedonian Prince(When I asked the archaeologist at Vergina, the Royal Tombs, if they might be those of Alexander IV, he said they believed so, because he (my Iskander) was the only royal boy of that age, about 14, who had died at that time.)

PROGRESS REPORT #74: When You Reach the Finish Line

2010-12-28T10:09:00.000-08:00

Silver coin, Alexander the Great wearing the horns of Ammon

(I wear a ring made of a copy of this coin, and also have it as a medallion)

I compare the writing of this novel, "Shadow of the Lion", to a long and arduous journey. Like running a marathon, though I've made some rest-stops along the way. The story itself is a journey, beginning in Babylon in June, 323 BC and ending in Amphipolis, Macedonia in June 310 BC. And that journey itself took years!

Just like a marathon runner, a writer must persevere if you want to reach the finish line. Sometimes you might stumble and almost fall; sometimes you get so tired you might want to quit; sometimes you lag behind and wonder if you're ever going to reach the finish line. But you keep on persevering, in spite of discomfort, obstacle, discouragements. And finally you see ahead of you, your goal!

Before you set off on this long, long race, of course you need to prepare yourself, "get into shape", know what's in store. Writing a novel is a long project and one that requires discipline if you want to achieve your goal and finish. Before I began writing Shadow, I did months of research. I already had a lot of knowledge and a great love of my subject (Alexander the Great) and I enjoy doing research -- a kind of brain 'gym' work, getting prepared for the big 'race'. Sure, you sometimes make a false start and have to begin over. I actually spent a year writing "Shadow" as a juvenile historical, thinking it would be a short run and I'd be finished the project in no time. Then, as I delved deeper into the history and saw how complicated the events were, I realized it was not going to work as a story for youngsters. It was far to complex and political. So I was advised to start over. (That first year was just a 'training run'). And so I did. I started over and wrote it with a multiple point of view, complicating matters, but allowing me to really develop the characters and tell the story of the fall of Alexander's dynasty with all the political complexities and scheming that finally brought it to the end. Certainly, once I established the theme: How blind ambition and greed brought down a world power, the way became clear and I was able to tell the story the way it needed to be told.

Yes, it has been a long, long journey. But this week I finally came to the end of the final chapter. And now, before this week is over, I should have the Epilogue finished with a bit of extra work on the Prologue, tying it all in together.

Was I excited and emotional about reaching the finish line? I actually had the final chapter written almost from the beginning, so I knew how it ended. But I had to proceed slowly when I wrote the final chapter, making sure I kept the tension high and not giving away the ending. I wanted it to have an emotional but satisfying ending and hope I have achieved that. At least I know I have given it my personal best. This, of course, is not the grand finale. There will still be some edits, rewrites and cuts to make. And I won't be completely 'finished' until I write THE END when I finish the Epilogue. My goal is to finish it this week, before the New Year. Can I do it? Yes, I can!

A painting of Amphipolis with Mount Pangeion, the lake and the River Strymon

(in my research I have visited here twice)

Progress Report #73: The Never-ending Task of Research

2010-12-21T13:59:00.000-08:00

Alexander the Great on his horse Bucephalus

One of the things I always remind writers in my novel writing classes is that part of the job of the writer is also to do the research. And if you are writing historical fiction this is no small task! Even if you are writing fiction of any kind, make sure you know your subject and have a keen interest in it or you will soon became overwhelmed with the research that is necessary to make your characters realistic and your settings as accurate as possible. This is even true with 'modern' settings. For instance, if you are writing about someone who is a nurse or a lawyer, make sure you know what it entails to be in that profession. Interview people who are, or read up on it. If you are writing about a bag lady or a drug addict, you don't need to go out and sleep on the street or shoot up heroin but you must study and observe what it is to be like those individuals and perhaps chat with a few to find out. (For instance, my play "The Street" was a cautionary tale about heroin addiction written after my boyfriend and his friends became hooked on the drug unwittingly back in the 1950's before any of us knew the dangers. I personally saw what happened to these people when they became unfortunate addicts and as the play was set in the East End of Vancouver I knew the setting and period of time very well.)

Writing historical fiction though, is a much more daunting project. Again, you really need to be passionately interested in the subject you intend to write about, read everything you can about that period (including other novels), and be prepared for lots of unending work. I was introduced to Alexander the Great when I was still in high school and spent a good deal of my last year of school researching and writing an Alexander themed novel. (Nearly failed because of it!). There were no computers, videos, movies (other than that horrible one made during the 1950's starring Richard Burton where even the sets were phony) so I relied on library books. Nowadays you can research on-line as well as at libraries and the sources are endless. However, to get a real feeling of the locations, wherever possible, it's a good idea to go and visit. Of course, when I started to write about Alexander I relied only on book research however when I eventually visited Greece many years later I was astounded to see how accurate some of my descriptions had been of locations. For my current novel, "Shadow of the Lion", I was not only able to research in libraries and on-line, but I have some very valuable contacts who are Classical Scholars and was able to visit most of the locations in northern Greece (Macedonia) and some in Turkey. Of course, getting to Iraq was impossible (and the first part of my novel takes place in ancient Babylon) but I at least was able to view videos and get a pretty clear idea of what it might have been like.

Pella, the royal city where Alexander was born.

In researching my novel I have visited as many of the sites where Alexander lived that I was able to. I got a real feeling of 'place' by doing this. Of course a vivid imagination is also a valuable asset, however I always try to be fairly accurate in descriptions so I can get across the sense of 'being there'.

So it was a thrill to visit Pella several times. (The site of the palace is still being excavated but I was at least able to get an idea of the layout of the city and imagine it.) I have also visited Dodoni, where Alexander's mother lived in the mountains of Epiros, the island of Samothraki where she met her husband Philip, King of Macedon and Alexander's father, and the town of Pydna where part of my story takes place where the royal family (Olympias, and Alexander's Soghdian widow and son were staying while the city was under siege). I have also been twice to Amphipolis, an important site for the last part of my novel. Someone said that Classical Greece is dead. But it isn't. Certainly there are a lot of things that are no longer there and sometimes the landscape has been altered, but when you walk among the ruins and see the lay of the land you can visualize it as clearly as it once existed.

If you are writing a more current story, set in New York city, for instance, and you've never been there (especially if you're from a small town) you should treat youself for a visit, as New York city is an experience like no other and to capture the essence of it is part of the exciting detail you'll want to add to your story.

Mieza, the school Philip built where Aristotle taught Alexander and his Companions.

But getting the settings right is only half the battle. There's all those other details too, like what did people eat back then? What did they wear? What was their mode of transportation? How long did it take to get from point A to point B on horseback? It's never-ending. I seem to be always stopping to check some tiny detail. As someone once told me, "If you have them eating potatoes in the first chapter and potatoes didn't exist at that time, it will shoot down your credibility." My Classical scholar friends have made sure even things like the way sacrifices were made was accurately portrayed. And all that meticulous detail is what often makes historical fiction take so long to write.

Some tips for doing research are necessary. I learned a long time ago to make a list of what I needed to know at that moment and only research those subjects. It happens I love doing research and can spend far too many hours browsing books or surfing the net. So I usually only look things up as I need to know them and keep a file with notes, photos or whatever I need to keep on hand. Then, when you are doing the writing, use only what you actually need. Don't bog your story down with too many details no matter how fascinating they are. Just ask yourself, "is this necessary for the plot?" If it isn't, don't use it. (Sometimes, a book can be so full of meticulous research details that it becomes boring.) Remember, you're not writing a history text, you're writing a story. So you want to keep it interesting as well as informative.

PROGRESS REPORT # 72 : DREAMING

2010-12-18T10:43:00.000-08:00

Lately I've been having a lot of unusual dreams. I used to be diligent about recording any significant dreams in my journal, because often you can look back on them and 'interpret' what they possibly meant. Sometimes dreams can be visitations from people who have passed beyond. Other times they are reflections of our lives, stressful periods or joyful times. I find dreams fascinating. Even the unpleasant, scary dreams (nightmares) we sometimes have are interesting if you try to analyze just why those frightening images came to disturb your sleep.

Once, when I was in my teens, I had one of those 'non-dreams' where you really can visualize something has happened. In this case, my sleep was disturbed and I woke to find two men standing by my bed. One was an oriental man, the other a tall man wearing an overcoat and fedora. They didn't speak, just stood by my bedside grinning at me. Of course I was frightened and I sat up and cried out. Then they vanished. Who were these two men? I can still see them as clearly as if it were yesterday.
The most mysterious part is, when some years later, I told this 'dream' to a friend, she related exactly the same incident happening to her at about the same age. She described two similar men. Where they guardian angels? And why did they appear?

I have often used dreams in my novel "Shadow of the Lion". In ancient times, dreams were important and were part of the psycho-therapy used in the healing shrines. The person who came to the shrine to seek advice was given wine or some other potent drink, wrapped themselves in an animal skin and slept. In the morning the priest of the sanctuary interpreted their dream and give them advice.

There have been a couple of times when I had a dream but realized that dream really belonged to one of my characters. It's important though, if you use dreams in your stories, that you use them carefully so that they meld in with the story. You must never write a story and in the end say "Then she woke up. It was all a dream!" That's a cop-out. So if you use dreams in your story, they must make sense as if they are a dream your character might really have, and for what reason?

There are 'waking dreams' too...those moments when our mind drifts off to other worlds or fantasies. "Imagining", while we are awake. These moments can also be used with your characters.

Dreams can be curious, playful, wishful-thinking, memories, visitations or powerful foreshadowing.
Here's a dream sequence belonging to Roxana, the Soghdian widow of Alexander and mother of his only heir, Iskander (Alexander IV) She and her son, heir to the throne, are held in a fortress at Amphipolis under the guardianship of Kassandros, one of Alexander's enemies, until Iskander comes of age and can legally take over the throne of Macedon.

Roxana and Alexander the Great

Roxana went to her dressing table and took the combs out of her hair letting it tumble loose. She sat awhile, holding her bronze mirror as she wiped the paint from her face. She was barely

past thirty and already felt like a beaten old crone. The mirror’s reflection showed her pale complexion, the tiny lines around her mouth and creasing her brow. There were dark pouches under her sad eyes. She saw herself as a dowager, not Alexander’s proud widow, mother of the future king of Macedon. All her hopes had been dashed. Alone in the silence she shed tears of remorse.

That night as she slept, a horrible vision came to her.

She sees a cavernous room with walls of alabaster and floors of black marble. In the centre is an open sarcophagus and inside it lays the corpse of a man. She sees him clearly, the serene features are familiar to her: the nose, cheeks, the coppery hair springing from his forehead, the hands folded over a shield that bears a lion’s figure. Alexander. Then she sees Iskander ascending the steps, slowly, reverently. He approaches the casket and reaches out his hand, then bends over to touch Alexander’s face, and slowly as if performing a ritual, he climbs into the sarcophagus. She sees him lying there, and now it is no longer Alexander, but her son who lays in that marble casket.

She woke drenched in sweat, her heart pounding. The dream was so real that it felt as if she had flown to Alexandria and beheld it herself.

Trembling, she crawled out of bed and bent over a basin by her bedside. A wave of nausea came over her and she retched.

Was the dream an omen?

It was a dream ….only a dream. She repeated this until the spinning in her head ceased and she felt her heart beats slow. She decided not to tell Iskander.

It was a dream, that is all, she told herself. I cannot alarm my son when he needs to keep his thoughts clear.

* * *

This week in my novel-writing coaching group I asked the writers to choose one of their characters and write a dream that this character might have, then relate it to an incident in their character's life, possibly a foreshadowing. This proved to be a very useful exercise. Try it yourself! Those dreams will tell you many things about your characters -- or even yourself!

SOME INSPIRATION FROM THE MUSE

2010-12-03T20:51:00.000-08:00

SAPPHO

This week I had some unexpected encouragement about one of my works-in-progress that has been shelved for the last couple of years: my play about Sappho, the lyric poet, titled "House of the Muses".

I had begun writing this play after being encouraged to do so by an artistic director/actress I know and before I began I got a membership in the Playwright's Centre so that I could qualify for some workshops. I even made a special trip that year when I was in Greece, to visit Myteline (Lesbos) and to go to the town where Sappho once lived (Eressos). I did tons of research before I was prepared to begin writing.

This was another period when I basically stalled work on my novel, "Shadow of the Lion", at least I was working a bit on both, putting most of my energy at that time into the play. I got the first act written and was prepared to begin the second act when the whole thing kind of caved in. The people in the workshop, and mainly the director of it, simply didn't get what I was writing, perhaps because I was styling it like the Greek dramas (because, after all, Sappho's story is a tragedy). A couple of the workshop members made a few critiquing suggestions but basically the director dissed it and told me that the way it was it was unproducable. He did not offer any suggestions as to how I could fix or improve it. I was crushed, after all the months I had put into it, so I decided to shelve it and focus entirely on the novel.

Here's a brief explanation of what the play is about:

The story of Sappho is a classic story of betrayal and unrequited love. Sappho has been misunderstood in modern times. She was not simply a lesbian who wrote love poems to some of her girls. She was a widow, a mother, a woman with male lovers, and most importantly, she was a political activist and a musical super-star of her time. At her House of the Muses private girls school on the island of Lesbos, Greece, she taught the young daughters of wealthy Asians and Greeks the art of music and poetry. Music seems to have been the natural mode of expression and the intimacy of the group was such that there was no secret that could not be shared, no subject that could not be sung. Soon these girls would marry, and it was to this end that their accomplishments were acquired.

In Sappho’s house they learned that virginity kept was glorious, while virginity lost in a wedding bed was an even more splendid thing. One had to be both pure and desirable and the balance was not easy to keep for chastity was provocative. The need to marry well was what brought the members of the Sapphic group together, but marriage also made them move apart again and once they left they could never come back again, could never be girls again. Their change of status (marriage) was as total and as irreversible as the loss of virginity.

So it was with Sappho, when she was sent into exile far from the House of the Muses. Her life was never to be the same again, and when she returned she found her world turned upside down, her school in chaos, her land taken by the tyrants, her most beloved friend gone. Because of her political stance against the tyrants and her love of the girls in her school, she was accused of disorderly conduct and being a ‘woman-lover’. She was slandered and defiled, and most of her poetry was destroyed. In end, betrayed by her young male lover and deserted by her goddess, Aphrodite she committed suicide.

Sappho’s tragic story is a classic story of unrequited love. Her quest for love, acceptance and lasting friendship is what we all seek. With Sappho died some of the world’s most profound and beautiful poetry.

I haven't looked at the script since that time I shelved it until a week after I returned from my holidays in September and was asked to be guest poet at a Sunday poetry reading, Poetic Justice. At that reading I read the opening monologue by Sappho. It was greeted with enthusiasm and one of the women in the audience who is an actress expressed that she would love to perform it. That gave me renewed interest in the project. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I had been led to believe!

Then the other day I happened to be in a conversation with another woman, also an actress, who was bemoaning that she hadn't landed any roles lately and considered quitting acting. It suddenly struck me that this woman would be perfect to play the role of Sappho. So I asked her if she'd like to read the script.

I got a phone message from her a couple of days ago and she was very enthusiastic about what she had read so far from the script. She said that she was 'right there' and really related to all the action etc. She asked if she could do some editing on the dialogues for me (which was just what I felt the script needed). So I am now waiting to hear her opinion about it once she's finished reading Act One. If she thinks it's worth pursuing then when I am finished Shadow I should go back and finish Act Two. It would be exciting even if I only got a reading done of it. I had put so much energy into the play it seems a shame for it to be tucked away in a manuscript box never to see the light of day or hear some talented women reading the lines I have written. (I used as many of Sappho's own words in the script as I could, too!)

So, you just never know. Sometimes the work you think is worthless turns out to be alright. You just have to give it time. And put it into the right hands.

PROGRESS REPORT #71 : A THROW OF THE DICE

2010-11-24T19:41:00.000-08:00

Playing knucklebones

Sometimes life can be a gamble: 'Should I, or shouldn't I?' "What if?' 'Shall I take a chance?'

'What are the odds?' We've all had to make these choices and trust our instincts that things will turn out and that our choices are right.

I'm taking a chance on my novel, trusting that it's going to turn out alright, that I'll find an agent and then a publisher who will love it. So far I am getting positive feedback from my readers/editor so that's a big relief. But will the novel sell? Will anyone want to publish it? Will I EVER get it done and in shape to send to an agent? I just have to TRUST that these things will happen, that all my efforts will not be in vain. Take a chance. Toss the dice. Throw my work out there into the big wide literary world and hope it becomes a hit.

The story is drawing to a close and now Alexander's son, Iskander, must make a life-saving decision. Should he take a chance on it? Or should he stay and hope that he'll live to take the throne of Macedon, inherited from his father. It's a throw of the dice. And he cannot delay his decision.

Knucklebones (astrigali), a popular 'dice' game played in ancient times.

Here is a little scene from my final chapter in which Iskander and his friend Orion are planning their next move...with a throw of the dice.

* * *

Later that day Iskander and Orion met in the barracks yard. They squatted on the flagstones in the open, pretending to be engrossed in a game of knucklebones. No-one was nearby except a guard who sat on a slab of marble, too bored to pay attention. Iskander held the leather dice bag, and muttered an incantation over it. The guard, who seemed to have no real interest in the boys and their game, gave an impatient cough

Orion cast an anxious look over his shoulder. “Will he hear?”

“Take no notice of him,” Iskander said . “He’s a new guard and he doesn’t know anything. He’s probably dreaming of the girl he laid with last night.” He poured the five onyx astragali into Orion’s outstretched hand.

Orion threw down the knucklebones and leaned his head closer to Iskander’s. “There’s no way out through the town. The streets will be full of Kassandros’ men. We’ll have to scale the south wall and make our escape down the hill into the ravine.” He scooped up one of the bones and tossed it up to catch it on the back of his hand. “Coan throw!” He tossed another bone and snatched up the others with a clicking sound as he leaned close to whisper to Iskander. “I know all the trails and secret coverts of the ravine. My father and I used to hunt there. We’ll go through the ravine to the river. I know where there’s a boat hidden in the reeds. That way, the hounds won’t be able to pick up our scent.”

“Well done! Chian throw. That’s a five. My turn!” Iskander scooped up the astrigali and threw them up scattering them in the dirt. Then he tossed one up and caught it on the back of his hand.

Orion cheered. “Good throw!” Then he lowered his voice. “I’ve shown you how to find the footholds on the citadel wall. I’ll leave first and wait for you by the river.”

“When do we go?”

“On the night of the Bouphonia, when everyone at the garrison is feasting and celebrating and all the town will be reveling. Arkon’s ship won’t leave port until the morning. We’ll have time to get ourselves down to Eion and slip aboard.”

“What about my mother?” The thought of leaving Roxana behind made Iskander ache with regret.

“There is no other way,” Orion reached out and laid his hand over Iskander’s. “By the next full moon you’ll be of age to ascend the throne, then you can free her.”

“How can I leave her here…with them?” The thought of how his mother had already suffered at Kassandros’ hands made him feel wretched.

“You must save yourself first!” Orion said.

His eyes met Orion’s and held the gaze. What Orion said was right. He threw down the dice bag and reached out to grasp his friend’s hand. “Noble Orion, you have always been a steadfast, loyal friend. I hold you in high regard, and always will.”

Always ready with a reassuring word, Orion replied: “I swear before the gods that I’ll be there for you as long as I’m alive.”

They looked at each other and clasped hands. There was no need to say more.

* * *

PROGRESS REPORT 70: Riding into the Sunset

2010-11-06T17:31:00.000-07:00

Amphipolis, the Strymon River

We're almost there. Just two more little bits of the final chapter to finish and a small amount of work tying together the Prologue and Epilogue. I had actually hoped it would be completed by now but there's been little time for my history writing what with classes to teach and some of the travel writing I get paid to write so must keep on top of. However, the reviews I am getting so far from what I've written in Shadow of the Lion have been all good and very encouraging.

One disappointment was being unable to approach an agent at the recent Surrey International Writer's Festival. Unlike other years, I was not assigned any room monitoring tasks and only one introduction. The rest of the time I was stuck in the room registering people for the Blue Pencil appointments so there was no change to 'buttonhole' the agent I had hoped to speak to. But perhaps I am not quite ready ... or once I am, I will know who to approach as she works for the same agency as the editor who suggested to me a couple of years ago that I send them my manuscript.

My classes and workshops all end in another week, leaving me more writing time so hopefully I'll make more progress. Meanwhile I am thinking about it, planning mentally how to approach this next tricky part, in particular how to begin. I always find the transitions a bit of a sticky point and once I master that I'm generally off and running.

Anyway, here's a little snippet of what I've just finished writing/workshopping and editing. To explain:
Iskander has been invited to go with his companions to the port of Amphipolis to view some war triremes that are in port. This is the first time in five years he has been allowed to ride with a royal escort from the garrison at Amphipolis so it is an important moment for him. Kassandros has kept him a virtual prisoner in the garrison, but the current commander in charge has been more lenient and believes that Iskander should be presented to the trierarchs and the populace. So in this scene, they are riding down from the acropolis of Amphipolis to the port at Eion.

I have actually walked up and down this road on a couple of occasions and made lots of notes in my travel journal as well as taking photos. So I was able to recreate the ride. The children's bed-time fable that Orion tells Iskander is one that Macedonian parents in that area actually do tell their kids. A journalist friend of mine who was brought up near Amphipolis told me this, so I used it in the story.

A part of Shadow of the Lion, final chapter.

At midday, the troop rode out of the garrison, through the narrow cobbled streets of Amphipolis town, the boys flanked by an escort of bodyguards, their royal pennants fluttering from tall staffs. Iskander rode in front beside Commander Castor, followed by Orion and the his companions, privileged boys who and were proud to be invited into the royal company.

Even though many of them were older and had already passed the tests of manhood, they treated him with the respect due his royal station and he counted them all as friends, except for Lakis and his two cohorts. Since the near fatal boar hunt he was wary of them. They were resentful boys from the upland hills, sent there by their fathers who were friends of Kassandros’. He knew that Lakis, was favoured by Glaukias. Some of the boys whispered that Lakis was Glaukias’ eremenos, just as Glaukias’ had been Kassandros’ favored lover.

It was the first time since he had come to Amphipolis five years before that he had ridden through the city with a royal escort, and Iskander felt an exhilaration of pride as he cantered his horse past the cheering town people. His horse was a chestnut stallion, prettier than the others, bedecked with silver cheek-rosettes and a red saddle cloth fringed with bullion, fit trappings for a king. Most of the town folk had never seen him before and he heard the twitter of excited voices as they recognized that he must be the royal boy, their future king.

The road led through the west gate of the city, across the ancient stone Nine Ways Bridge that had been built long ago by Shah Xerxes when the Persian had invaded Macedon. As he cantered his horse across the bridge, Iskander glanced at the old moss-covered stele that marked the spot where the Persians had sacrificed nine boys and nine girls to the river gods. He glanced back toward the acropolis of Amphipolis, crowned with its grey stone citadel. He hoped the he would soon leave this cursed place forever. He trusted Castor and the influence the Commander had that would surely help convince Kassandros to let him return to his father’s palace in Pella.

The road curved away from the river, skirting the low forested hills. Just ahead, in a grove of trees, loomed a formidable stone lion, a funerary monument that had been erected to honour one of Alexander’s generals. Iskander remembered, when he was a little boy of four and had first seen that lion, how frightened he had been.

With his flaxen hair blowing in the wind, Orion spurred his horse to ride alongside him.

“My father used to say that when a child misbehaves the Lion comes in the night and takes his tongue.”

“Sometimes I dream of lions,” Iskander called back to him. “And in my dreams, the lion pursues me.”

Orion laughed. “Is it this lion?”

“This is just a stone lion.” He held up his arm to show Orion the bracelet his mother had given him. The gold sparkled as the sun caught it. “See this one? This was my father’s. It’s a luck charm.” He took a breath feeling an overwhelming sadness. He remembered how Nabarzanes had always called him, Ashabal, the Little Lion. “My father is the lion,” he said.”And he is my protector.”

What will happen when they reach the port?

The Lion of Amphipolis

PROGRESS REPORT #69: MAKING SLOW PROGRESS

2010-10-11T14:01:00.000-07:00

As the Greek's say "sega, sega!" Easy, easy. And that's how I'm approaching the last bit of work on Shadow of the Lion. It's taken me awhile, as I've only been home 3 weeks from my travels and have been caught up in new classes, some literary events and a bit of recovery from jet-lag and culture shock. But I'm slowly starting back to work on the finale of the novel. Who would have thought it would be so difficult to write this last bit?

Garrison walls, Amphipolis

Where am I now in the story? I am in the garrison of Amphipolis. There has been a lull in the action as far as the threats against Roxana and Iskander. The new garrison commander, in charge while the evil Glaukias is away, has shown some respect and tolerance to them and has allowed the boy and his companions some freedom. But watch what happens next!

I found that I was dissatisfied with the last chapter segment I wrote, so I've been trying to figure out how to improve it, editing and adding some new bits. Still not certain it's what I want, but for now I'll let it go and move on to the next bit. As usual, I always find it hard to write the transitions between chapters or chapter segments so although I have some of it written in note form, I haven't launched into it as yet.

Meanwhile I spent some time writing travel stories and have to polish up one about Pt. Townsend, WA to send off. And of course I have started submitting to The Vancouver Guide again. Still, I have a lot of travel stories yet to write so I must squeeze these in between what work I am doing on Shadow. Fortunately I've had a bit of extra time to do some of it, but it all requires DISCIPLINE and FOCUS which are somewhat difficult to achieve (for me, anyway!)

But, I will continue to post my progress reports and very soon I hope to be able to write THE END.
Watch for more chapter segments to come.

WAX POETIC!

2010-10-04T15:50:00.000-07:00

Reading at Poetic Justice

I don't generally consider myself a poet, but somehow lately I seem to have found myself in that category. A few weeks before I left on my trip, I was invited to appear on a Co-op Radio show, Wax Poetic as their guest for the show. I was very honoured to be invited as this program has some of the best local poets as their guests.

For my half hour reading, I selected poetry that was connected to my historical fiction writing. First I read selections from my work-in-progress Celtic novel "Dragons in the Sky" which has some chapters written as 'stanzas' in Bardic verse. Next I read selections from my Alexandrian Collection: Hymns for Gods and Heroes which was written some time ago when a poet friend challenged me to write a collection of poems about Alexander's life, parallel to my novel "Shadow of the Lion". I followed that by reading a short passage from the final chapter of my novel.

The radio readings were a great success and that put me in an entirely new literary category when other poets heard me read. I was invited to appear as guest poet at a Poetic Justice reading when I returned home from my travels. This is a poetry reading group that meets on Sundays in New Westminster (a city just next to Vancouver.). For this reading I again chose stories that showed my interest in historical fiction writing (including several I had read on the radio show) as well as travel poems. While I was away in Greece I was urged to write some new poetry and although I can't 'write on demand' I somehow managed to at least produce two new poems, which were included in the collection I read that day. I had also included (in the historical poetry) the opening monologue from my play about the lyric poet Sappho, "House of the Muses". I had shelved this almost-finished work a couple of years ago after it was panned at a playwright's workshop I had been attending. Surprisingly, when I read this monologue (which I had planned to rework), it went over so well that an actress in the audience actually asked me if she could perform it some day! (It just goes to show you that sometimes first opinions are not necessarily everyone's opinions!)

Yesterday I went to Poetic Justice again and read at the open mic. This time I read some poems dedicated to my late friend Anibal as this month is the anniversary of his death from cancer 5 years ago. Again, my poetry was enthusiastically received.

All this 'waxing poetic' has really empowered me. Maybe I should take myself more seriously and write more poems? Usually I have written little snippets when I am sad or lonely or going through some kind of personal dilemma (broken love affairs and the like). Poetry doesn't just seem to 'flow' out of me the way prose does. But perhaps I'll pay more attention to the Muse now and see if she wants me to write a poem or two. I'm even thinking of becoming a more frequent reader at the open mics. There are a lot of poetry venues around town. It's just a matter of finding the time and courage to attend.

THE WRITER ON THE ROAD

2010-08-31T00:57:00.000-07:00

Ancient Corinth, with Acrocorinth in the Background.

I've been travelling since August 27, first to Wales then Germany and now I'm in Greece. While I'm away I have tried to keep a focus on my writing projects. When I was in Wales I was able to visit St. Fagan's Folk Museum which is a whole village of various aspects of Welsh life. It included the very earliest Celtic dwellings such as would have been used in Olwen's time. This was valuable research for me for my unfinished novel, Dragons In the Sky which I intend to resume work on after I get home and do the final chapter of my Alexander novel.

Of course, being a travel writer as well as historical fiction writer, I have been gathering all sorts of ideas for new stories everywhere I go. And one of my first loves is visiting archaeological sites. Here in Greece I've been going to museums as well as sites and making lots of notes, some pertaining to my Shadow of the Lion (little details I can add for the final edits).

I actually brought that last chapter with me as I only have 1/4 of it left to write but so far haven't looked at it. While I was on the islands I was trying to write poetry because I am scheduled to be a feature reader at a poetry even after I return to Vancouver in mid September. So you see, I am 'at work' even though I am on holidays. And soon you'll be getting a new Progress Report about Shadow.

PROGRESS REPORT #68: ALMOST, BUT NOT QUITE...

2010-07-28T21:26:00.000-07:00

AEGEAN SUNSET
I almost finished that last chapter, but not quite. I got waylaid and bogged down with trip preparations and I knew I wouldn't be able to do the best work on it without total concentration as it was a very difficult chapter to write. I am down to the last 1/4 of the chapter but the next part is rather complicated, so I decided the best thing to do was wait. I have printed out the chapter up to where I am working on it, and I'm taking along all my notes. So once I am quietly encamped on the beach at Naxos where I intend to park myself for a week or two, then I am certain the Muse will be only too willing to co-operate.

So I fly off on my newest adventure tomorrow (July 29) heading first for London where I will keep to my 'literary' theme but going on a historic pubs walk and maybe the Beatles walk and of course will scout out other places around old London town of interest to writers. The pub down the road from the Indian Y where I stay (I think it's called the Fitzroy) was a famous hangout for the likes of Dylan Thomas and many others.

On Sunday I'm taking the bus to Chepstow to meet my cousins and will spend that week in Caerphilly Wales. Part of that week I hope to make the Dylan Thomas tour around Swansea and environs. Then I'll be heading onward to Germany where I will meet my friend Patrick for a few days in Mainz. He's going to be my tour guide and there's lots to see there including the first printed Bible in one of the cathedrals. On August 10 I head for Athens. I'll stay there a few days to rest up and then I'm heading for Naxos with my tent, and will camp at Maragas Camping on Plaka Beach for several days. A travel writer friend who lives in Turkey is going to meet me there and I will then travel to Samos and Turkey with Inka. Back to Athens the end of August for the last 3 weeks of cavorting with my girlfriends there.

I have a copy of part of the Shadow manuscript with one friend here and have the whole manuscript on a flash disk for my friend Dinaz to read and critique. So, as I said, I will be working on Shadow while I'm traveling. Have to finish the end of the final chapter and also the Prologue (Prelude) and Epilogue (Epitasis) need to be complete but are partly done.

Because when I get back I've been invited to be the feature reader at a poetry event, perhaps I'll manage to pen some new poems too. I was recently a guest on a radio show here, Wax Poetic, and read some of my Bardic Verse and part of the Hymns to Gods and Heroes collection which tied in with a small part of my final chapter that I read. It was a big hit (and I must say when I heard the play-back I impressed myself!) so I guess I am now counted as a 'poet' although I have not really thought of myself as that.

I may post here while traveling as I intend to take in some literary sites. But you can also follow me on my travel blog.

PROGRESS REPORT #67: THE FINAL CHAPTER part 1: OMENS & PRAYERS

2010-07-03T15:52:00.000-07:00

View of Mount Pangaion

Beginning June 10,1992 (the anniversary of Alexander the Great's death in Babylon), I started a special journal to chronicle the field trips I was making in Greece to follow Alexander's path. "In the Shadow of the Lion" covers these journies up to July 2003, but there have been many other return visits to the sites, many new discoveries in my search for Alexander.

All through the writing of my novel, "Shadow of the Lion", I have found these on-site notes invaluable. "Being there" gave me a real sense of place, and with my research trips to archaeological sites, a sense of the 'times' and life of this incredible man and others associated with him.

There has never been much written about Alexander's son, (I use his Persian name "Iskander" to distinguish him from his father) who was born to Alexander's Soghdian wife, Roxana, a month after his death in Babylon, June 10, 323 BC. Most of what has been written in the histories has not portrayed the women in Alexander's life as fairly or realistically as they likely were. So much is speculation. Many of the journals kept during Alexander's lifetime were destroyed, and the histories we know were written more than a hundred years later.

As a historical fiction writer, getting to know Alexander's world has been invaluable in my writing his story - the story of what happened after his death leading to the destruction of his dynasty. I wanted to give his little-known son a voice, and the women, too, who were incredibly strong women who have been maligned by the historians in many cases. Almost everyone closely connected to Alexander, mainly his two sons (his legitimate heir and illegitimate son by his Persian mistress) his mother, sister, wives, lovers and friends were annihilated during the power struggle between his generals.

In writing this difficult last chapter, I have delved into my old on-site journal, capturing the settings down to as many details as I could find or imagine, or recorded on site. I have been to the garrison of Amphipolis, looked down over the Strymon River delta to the sea, walked down the hillside on a route I imagined the boys would have used for their escape route. (And on that walk, saw the spiral path of a snake in the dust - an omen?) I have stayed in the shadow of Mount Pangaion, imagined the mines up near the summit that to this day are still visible, scarring the mountainside.

Writing this last chapter has taken me back there to the very first time I saw the formidable acropolis of Amphipolis. As I walked toward it, the sky darkened and a bolt of lightening struck earthward -- an omen, for sure! Or passing by the great stone Lion near the Nine Ways Crossing -- the lion, a funeral monument to one of Alexander's men; the Nine Ways, the place where the invading Persian king Xerxes ordered the sacrifices of nine boys and nine girls to the river god. Another omen!

On my second trip, a couple of years later, I went right up to the ruins of the fortress, mostly Roman/Byzantine now, but there were the original stone walls, the wall the boys would scale to make their get-away. And now, as I read through that journal (July 17, 1993) I'm back there again. I've come full circle, and the novel is almost finished. Just two more chapter segments to go!

Here's a little excerpt of part of this last chapter...

View of the Strymon River delta from Mt Pangaion

The stony trail led from the glade, up the mountainside where goats and sheep grazed, until the scrubby grass gave way to bracken and thyme. When they reached the bluff, Iskander stood looking out beyond the plain and sea. Far below, the sweeping brown curve of the river coiled around the acropolis of Amphipolis and snaked through the grassy fields toward the sea. To the west rose the mist-shrouded crests of Athos, beyond the long expanse of tawny shoreline. He turned to the east and shaded his eyes against the sun. He could see the long highway, the Royal Road, that Shah Xerxes had built when the Persians had come here, the same road his father, Alexander, had traveled on when he went east to conquer the world.

He had a dim memory of that day long ago, riding with his mother in the howdah, lulled by the rolling gait of Old Pearl. He vaguely recalled his first sight of Amphipolis’ great walled fortress high on the hill between the mountain the river. He remembered how frightened he had been and how his mother said there was nothing to fear. “It is only a hill castle guarding the seacoast and the mines on Mount Pangaion.” But she had made a sign against evil and whispered a Soghdian spell.

Orion was standing with his face upturned, his eyes fixed on the high cliffs above them. His hair shone like white-gold in the sunshine and there was a rosy flush on his tanned cheeks. “If my father was here, we could scale that rock face to the highest ridge. There’s a cave up there dedicated to Pan. Father used to climb there with my mother and he took me up there once. My mother lived on this mountain…tended sheep…She died when I was a baby … after father came home from the wars. And there…you see?” He pointed to a narrow rocky trail that led up the slope from the bluff. “That’s the mule trail that leads to the mines.”

In the distance there was the sound of men’s voices carried on the wind, like the harsh cawing of distant crows and the crack of anvils on rock echoed across the mountainside. Iskander imagined the long line of men making their perilous way into a narrow shaft in the mountain. What it was like the cold dusty depths of the mine pits? Although sometimes these past few years he had felt like he was a prisoner, at least he was not like them, shackled and beaten, forced to go down into the bowels of the earth to dig out the precious metals that had made his father’s dynasty so wealthy. Gold and silver. What gave some men pleasure was a curse to those poor wretches. And what had all that gold and silver bought for Macedon? He had been told that it had financed his father’s campaigns in the East where Alexander had found even more wealth. The quest for riches and power had driven him farther and farther away from home. And in the end, Alexander had died, so now his Companions were at war, fighting over his wealth and empire.

Orion put his arm around Iskander’s shoulders. “What are you thinking?” he asked

“Of Persia….of my father…”

“Does it make you feel sad, thinking of your father?”

“Sometimes. Does it make you feel sad thinking of yours?”

Orion took a deep breath. “I miss him. I wish he were here now.”

“If my father had not died…” Iskander kicked at a stone. “And if your father was still alive, my mother and I would not be prisoners.”

“What will you do, if Kassandros won’t return you to Pella?”

“I will find a way…”

“And I will come with you.”

“Then we must make a plan.”

They looked at each other and smiled.

“Where you go, I will go,” Orion said. He reached out and clasped Iskander’s hand.

Iskander squinted against the sun and looked eastward again. “How many stades do you reckon it is to the Hellespont?”

“Why?”

“If we got an early start – in the dark before dawn, before cock-crow – we could get most of the way there by nightfall.

“And then?”

“We could get a boat across – get new horses on the other side – ride clear down the coast to Troy or even farther, to Ephesus. Perhaps I could find Nabarzanes…”

“They’d have the hounds on us before we even reached Thrace. There’s no way we could chance going by the Royal Road. There’s staging posts along the way and day runners. No Iskander, there must be another way.”

“Mother still thinks we’ll be returned to Pella. But so long as Kassandros is my guardian …unless the Assembly deems it so …or the Diodochi order it …” He hit his fist into his palm. “Kassandros hated my father. If he has his way…” Then he tossed back his hair and shrugged. “No matter…The sea-lanes are open now so if I can get a message to Uncle Ptolemy…For now, with Castor in charge, all is well. But I am mindful of the risks and we must make a good plan, just in case.”

“Just in case!” Orion agreed. “We’ll make a blood oath…”

“Your word is all I need,” Iskander replied.

The orange disc of the sun hung suspended over the sea. Iskander glanced up at the cloudless blue sky and saw an eagle soaring eastward, toward the lands that had once been Persia’s. He became aware of the stillness, and it came to him then that this was the place the Magus had come to die. He remembered how the old man had carried the fire altar up the mountain, ignited the sacred flame, said his prayers and died, and how Nabarzanes had found the Magus lying here, his face upturned to the heavens.

He reached into his leather saddle bag and took out the wine flask and poured what was left of the wine into the earth. It was all he had to offer as a sacrifice. He still remembered the prayers he and Nabarzanes and the Magus offered when they made their orisons at the fire altar at the end of each day. He straightened, and began to sing softly in his sweet treble.

“How manifold are thy works, O Wise Lord”

The words came back to him, the prayers the Macedonians had forbidden them to utter, the sacred words of their god, Ahura Mazdah. He sang, hesitating at first, in the sweet sounding Elamite he had spoken as a child.

“To Thee I beg with outstretched arms, Ahura. This I ask Thee. Tell me truly…”

Tears sprang to his eyes. He lifted his hands, palms up, facing the dim horizon of the East. “O Holy One, give me counsel…” He thought of the eagle. Had it been an omen? Was it the sacred eagle, Si-murg? “Gather me up in your strong wings and carry me safely to my deliverance…”

Orion came to stand beside him and put his arm around his shoulders. Iskander did not try to hide the tears that splashed down his cheeks.

“Your memories will be mine and mine yours until we die,” Orion said.

The sun had westered. The shadow of Pangaion crept beyond the shoreline and quenched the sun’s glow on the sea. They scrambled back down from the bluff, and led their ponies through the glade back to where their bodyguard waited.

* * *

PROGRESS REPORT #66: UP AGAINST THE WALL?

2010-06-13T13:51:00.000-07:00

Royal Tomb, Aigai, Greece

I didn't realize that being confronted with the final chapter would be quite so traumatic. As I had already written the very last part of it, I thought the rest would come so easily. Then suddenly I found myself up against the wall! I started writing the chapter, got a few pages done and then realized it was not a chapter 'beginning' but rather it fit the ending of the previous chapter. So I sorted things out, fiddled around with a few other things, went back and did more editing, hoping to get 'unstuck'. But I'm still standing here with my face up against the wall!

Where is the Muse when you need her?

She came to me, creeping up on her silent feet, just before I roused myself out of bed this morning. An entire passage of the 'lead' to this last chapter flooded my still half-asleep brain. Did I get up instantly and write it down? No! I laid there still half in dream-land, and now I can't for the life of me remember what it was. Just a few lines. But it was just what I needed to get things moving.

I have heard other writers say that the last chapter is the most difficult. Not only are you saying goodbye to dear friends but it also has to be perfect, and not slither off into melodrama or pushing the limits of disbelief over the edge. This is a tragedy. It has a tragic ending. So that makes it even more difficult. It has to keep the tension going to the end and not get into melo-drama. There has to be a grain of 'hope' (and that will be shown in the Epilogue).

The thing to do is not to be deterred. Don't let that old 'resistance' get you down. Take a good clear look at things and make sure you know where you are going. Don't let that 'wall' stop you.

I'm thinking of going to the movie "Agora" today in hopes I might get some inspiration spending time in Alexandria where my Epilogue will take place (in the library built by Ptolemy). I'm determined to get this final chapter done before I leave for Greece on July 29.

Can't let the wall stop me!

Wall Painting, Royal Tomb, Aigai, Greece

PROGRESS REPORT #65: What's on Your Bookshelves?

2010-05-29T20:39:00.000-07:00

Today I received a very special birthday gift from my friend Ingrid: Two volumes of Diodorus Siculus containing books 16 & 17 and 18 & 19, all vital to my research for Shadow of the Lion. I might still have to get 1 more volume to complete the information I need to have on hand.

The above photo is one of my bookshelves containing research books. I have another one in my bedroom. So these two new books, green hard covers written in both Greek and English, will find their new home on the shelves beside all the other books I have about Greek history, namely Alexander the Great and Macedonia.

I am working on the final chapter. Today I got two pages written and I have lots of notes. But I really need to contemplate a bit and get down deeper into the narrative. I'm just playing with it right now, still not 100% sure of if I'm on the right track.

This week I have been reading "Bird by Bird" by Anne Lamott which I have found interesting and inspiring. This plan of approaching your work 'bird by bird' has helped in sorting out how to begin this final chapter and what it should include. I do what she says, take a deep breath and focus on one tiny picture at a time. It seems to work!

So, my intention is to write all weekend and so far I didn't go outside once today (the rain helped) and I stayed pretty well focused. Now I'm taking a wee break from Shadow and tonight I'll study some Greek (brushing up on my vocabulary for this summer's trip) and I'll write another Planet Eye story for the Vancouver Guide. I just posted a couple of others and was pleased to learn the editor is going to use a Kuala Lumpur story I'd written and submitted as a feature (which means extra pay!) I can submit stories other than local ones and intend to do that as I have a lot of previously published work that can be easily converted and shortened and resubmitted.

If the rain stops, tomorrow I'm planning a nice long sea-wall walk which I find helpful when I'm working through new material for the novel. I might even have a picnic!

PROGRESS REPORT #64: THE FINAL COUNTDOWN

2010-05-22T00:06:00.000-07:00

Alexander, on Bucephalus

I can hardly believe that I am at the final countdown, the last chapter of this long saga about the fall of Alexander the Great's dynasty. Of course, now I've reached this last chapter I'm encountering a lot of 'resistance'. Partly due to lots of distractions such as my classes, editing other people's manuscripts and writing for Planet Eye Traveler. But I'm hoping now that it is a long weekend here, to get some time to catch up and at least get this last chapter drafted out.

Besides the final chapter, I have a bit of work to do on the Prologue and Epilogue but both are partially written.

It has been a long, long journey and it's hard saying goodbye to the people I've grown to know so well. And what makes the final chapter difficult is its tragic ending.

In the previous chapter segement, I bid a sad farewell to one of my favorite fictional characters, Nabarzanes the Persian Court Advisor. He's finally left his long exile and is heading back home to Babylon.

Here's a short segment:

The next morning, as the dawn reddened the eastern sky, Nabarzanes left Ephesus. The city was silent, the streets still hidden in shadows save where a lamp was lit above a door. He had dressed in menial clothes, a homespun tunic and trousers tucked into his soft leather riding boots. He wore no jewelry to display his Persian wealth. The plain clothes disguised him as a travelling merchant, but there was no way to hide that he was a Persian with his ivory skin and sable hair. He travelled light, a goatskin wine bag, a flas of water, a few almond biscuits and dried figs and a small bundle of his personal possessions. What he'd need for food would be provided in viallages along the way. By day he would ride along the King's H ighway, mingle with other wayfarers. By night he would sleep among soldiers who guarded the byways. The Royal Road was well travelled, the craggy heights guarded by ancient fortresses, some that had been repaired by Alexander when he had passed that way years before. There would be caravans on the road, merchants and other travellers making for theports: Phoenicians with blue dyed beards, bejeweled Karians, slaves from Africa bare to the waist, their skin sleek as ebony. Soldiers, Persian merchants, veiled women carrying burdens n their heads trudging beside the donkeys their menfolk rode. Shaqal's long stride would cover the miles quickly down the coast, and across Syria to the Babylonian border, but it would be a good few months or more before he would reach Babylon.

He nudged his heels against Shaqaql's flanks to spur his horse forward, down the hill to the Street of Marbles, south out the city gate.

"Come my faithful steed. Speed us on our way. We're going home."

PROGRESS REPORT # 63 : CONQUORING RESISTANCE AND OVERCOMING FEARS

2010-04-11T16:17:00.000-07:00

I've encountered a bit of resistance lately, and that is one point I neglected to emphasis in my blog about "Writing is Work". One thing that becomes a problem for me is when I am disrupted from my work on Shadow of the Lion because of other work (in this case, it was all the classes I was instructing as well as the great amount of work I did over the Olympics for Planet Eye Traveler (The Vancouver Guide). I became too distanced from the novel, and when I tried to return and pick up the threads, it was a little struggled getting back into the story, the cadence of the prose, and the time-frame. The disruptions also get me a bit muddled up with the sequences of events and then I have to take extra time reviewing research notes in order to get back on track. But, I persevered, and with a few days 'free' time in order to renew myself with the story and characters, I finally managed to finish another new chapter segment. One step closer to THE END.

In this segment, Iskander (Alexander's son and only heir) is challenged to attend his first boar hunt. This is a dangerous sport and because he and his friend Orion are in the company of their unsympathetic tutor, Timon, an Athenian friend of Kassandros' who has been keeping Iskander and his mother under house arrest at the fortress of Amphipolis. With them are some guards and a group of new companions who have been chosen by Kassandros. There are many reasons why this could turn out tragically because boar hunting is an extremely dangerous sport. But Iskander is a courageous boy, and confronts the danger bravely. In those days, boys were expected to have killed a boar by the time they were fourteen, and a man by sixteen. As he is the titular king, he must rise to the occasion and show his opponents that he is just a brave as his father was.

Here's just a small segment of this chapter. (Yes, I did a lot of research about boar hunts, even watched a lot of U-tube videos about it -- modern boar hunts are dangerous enough, but can you imagine how much more dangerous they were in the ancient times?)

The hunting party, twenty of them, riding light with javelins and bows, followed the mule track that threaded along by the river. Beside them, on the other side of the river, towered Mount Pangaion, its white marble outcrops gleaming above the thick dark forest. Some goats and shaggy sheep grazed on the hillside; a herd boy's piping, like the call of a wild bird, sounded from above. Timon and two of the guards rode ahead on tall horses. The boys, riding stocky thick-maned muntain ponies followed, flanked by the guards, while the hounds ran alongside yelping with excitement.

Iskander was in high spirits astride his new chestnut pony. Orion rode beside him on his shaggy sorrel. The trackway was dank and mossy with the smell of the river and the bay and myrtle that grew along the path. Ahead of them, the river poured into a shimmering lake that gleamed darkly, ruffled with frothy wavelets. A breeze had blown up sending fluffy clouds skimming across the summit of the mountain.

The boys spurred their horses and wheeled off at a gallop, hair streaming, the horse's hooves splashing along the lake shore, calling gaily to each other until Timon and the soldiers drew them to a halt and restrained the baying hounds.

"Stop your rowdy caterwauling, or you'll scare away the boars," Timon warned. "We must be wary at all times. The boars will hide out of sight if they hear you. " He pointed through the thicket a little farther along the shore where a pair of the long-tusked hairy beasts were feeding on the marsh grass.

The burliest of the guards who was well-versed in boar hunting instructed the boys to approach stealthily. " Be careful. Remember what I have taught you. Have your knives handy to protect yourselves. If one of them is speared, keep away in case it revives. Boars have razor sharp tusks and a wounded boar will turn and charge."

He urged the boys forward in order of rank, ordering Iskander to take the lead. "Your father, Alexander, always took the first boar," he explained."It is your right."

Iskander crept through the brush toward the feeding animals, crouching low with his javelin poised. He could smell their stench and was close enough to see their coarse black bristles. The dogs began to bark frantically and raced past him, cornering one of the beasts as the other dashed into the thicket its loud squeals sending a pricking down his spine. He heard the cornered boar squeal and saw it lunge at the dogs. Behind him he heard Orion yell, "Watch out, Iskander! Aim for his shoulder!"

There was a chaos of loud yelps and shrieks as the boar tossed one of the hounds into the air and charged towards him. Iskander poised with his throwing spear, leveling it as he peered about waiting for the boar to rush out of the thicket. He remembered everything he had been shown about boar hunting, so when it lunged from the underbrush, he ran towards the charging animal, aiming the javelin at the vulnerable spot on its shoulder. He threw the spear with all his might and yelled, a shrill high ptiched yell like a battle cry. He could see its little red eyes, blazing with anger as the javelin blade struck. The boar grunted and charged straight toward him. He didn't know in that moment what he would do next, or if he expected to die. He heard Lakis shout, felt the thud as he was jostled and tripped into the boar's path.

Suddenly Orion was beside him, shoving him aside. He felt a sharp, burning pain scorch his thigh and fell backwards. Everything dazzled in his vision. When he opened his eyes again he was lying on the ground, dazed, his stomach heaving with nausea. The boar lay nearby, its legs still kicking in the death throes as the dogs circled cautiously, sniffing and wimpering.

A gabble of voices surrounded him: shouts of praise and others concerned for his well-being.
"What pluck!" "Such a swift kill!" "Are you alright, Iskander?"

He stumbled to his feet, still shaking. Blood gushed from a gash on his thigh where the boar's deadly tusk had grazed him. One of the guards knelt beside him and bound the wound with a rag. "That'll be your first battle scar, boy! Wear it proudly. It was a good, clean kill."

Iskander swayed unsteadily, feeling the blood drain from his face. He was aware of Orion yelling at Lakis who was bent over the boar tugging at the javelin.

"You pushed him! He might have been gored to death!"

Lakis looked around and retorted:" The boar charged at him. I was only trying to get him out of the way."

"You almost had him killed!" Orion shouted. He turned to Iskander, his cheeks flushed with anger. "Are you alright, Iskander? You had the kill, but Lakis interfered. He pushed you straight into the boar's path. You might have been killed."

Timon strode over, glaring under his thick brows. "What's this?" When he saw the blood on Iskander's leg he yelled, "Foolish whelp! What did I tell you? You could have got yourself killed!" When Orion protested Timon pushed him aside and put his arm around Lakis' shoulder. "Never mind, Lakis. Good boy! You did what was right -- saved him from a goring."

The other boys and some of the guards crowded around. "How lucky, he only grazed you leg! He killed one of the hounds."

"Did you see the length of those ivories? A mean beast, and a big one too!"

"You should be proud. A boar on your first hunt!"

One of the soldier's patted his shoulder. "It was a good, clean killing, boy! It would have made your father proud!"

Iskander accepted their compliments with good grace, but he heard the tallset boy, a fair-haired Illyrian, whisper to his companion: "The way he took that boar...his first one...do you suppose it was...?"

The other boy, whose father was a rich landowner from Thessaly, cocked an eyebrow. "He's the titular king. Of course it was set up for him! It wouldn't do for one of us to kill our first boar before Alexander's son got his!"

Orion, had overheard them, and dared to speak up. "Of course it was set up! It was meant to kill him!"

"Who can prove it? He tripped and fell, that is all!" the Thessalian boy retorted.

Iskander studied the faces of his companions. He saw Orion give him a secretive glance and heard the confused whispers of the other boys. Orion's accusation to Lakis resounded in his head: 'You almost had him killed!' He had counted too much on the protection of the guards who had always befriended him. He had even trusted these new companions. But now he wondered if any of them were true-hearted or were they, like Lakis, placed in his company by Kassandros for a more sinister intent?

He collected his wits and started to walk away. Timon went after him and grasped him by the arm. "You...stay here!"

Iskander jerked his arm away and stared hard at the man. Deliberatly, in fastidious Greek, he said "Take your hand off of me or you will regret it!"

He limped back toward the copse where the ponies were tethered. Orion ran after him. "Are you alright, Iskander? You should have been better protected. I should have been there..."

"You were there," Iskander said. He glanced back toward the group of his companions and saw Lakis helping the guards truss up the dead boar. "You saved my life," he said, and put his arm around Orion's shoulders. They smiled at each other.

"Iskander and Orion. We are brothers," Orion said.

"Forever, I swear it," Iskander replied. "I know i can counton you."

They spoke together in their Macedonian tongue, something Timon did not allow. Orion laughed. "You should have seen Timon's face after you walked awy. He puffed up like an adder and fairly exploded."

"I hate him!" Iskander said.

Orion frowned. "Then we must find a way to get rid of him and that filghy toad, Lakis, who tried to kill you."

I AM A BOOK

2010-04-04T14:01:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a book? Well, this past week I had an opportunity to be one: a "book" in a "living library". When I was first invited to participate in this unusual all-day event, to be held at a local high-school, I was not only pleased to be asked but very curious as to what this would mean and what the exact concept was of the "living library". You know that saying "You don't always know a book by it's cover"? Well, this is kind of like that. It's a unique group participation developed in Denmark to break down prejudices and misconceptions about people. The 'books' in this 'library' have many different titles, just as people have many different roles in their lives. You might look at a book and say "I don't want to read about that. That's a boring/unpleasant subject". On the other hand, once you open the book and start to read it, you might find it is very interesting and intriguing and not at all what you'd first thought just by glancing at it's cover.

Every 'book' in this 'living library' had several titles, just as there are many various titles for books that might cover similar or the same subjects. Or some books might have several different stories within it's covers. It's the same with people. You never know the whole story until you have heard/read it. You'll be surprised at what's inside some of those 'books'.

The idea of the 'Living Library" began in Copenhagen, Denmark initiated by five young people after a mutual friend was stabbed in a brutal attack. These five kids wanted to do something to raise awareness and to use their peer group to educate them against violence. So a youth organization called "Stop the Violence" was formed. You can read more about it and the history of the ''human library" at http://www.humanlibrary.org

Moscropt Secondary School in Burnaby, BC. is the only high school in North America to offer the concept although a few colleges have tried it. You can read a blog about our experiences as 'books' in the "Living Library' at www.beyondthebeadedcurtains.blogspot.com

After participating, I would say that ALL high schools should think about offering this 'living library' opportunity to their students. It might break down a lot of barriers, open up possibilities and help to eliminate prejudices and misconceptions about people. It might
help stop bullying!

The people invited to be in the Living Library were asked to come to the Moscropt School a week before the event would take place so we could be briefed on what was going to happen and what was expected of us 'books'. We chose titles (there could be more than one) and later on, wrote those titles on a paper. Then we all went around and wrote our idea of what those books were about (what kind of people those books were.) It was quite surprising to see the results, some of them rather harsh. Those comments would be later put into paragraphs for 'bios' of the 'books' and circulated to the students who would be visiting the Living Library the following week.

My titles were: "Elder" "Travel and Historical Fiction Writer" and (here's the one that caught the kids' attention! "Wanna--be Crime and Investigative Journalist."
Other titles were: "Anti Capitalist Activist" ,"Adopted as a Child", "Young Adult Gay Male Survivor of a Brain Tumour" , Costume Designer/Former Figure Skater" "Omni Sexual/Drag Queen/Photographer: "Ex Gang Member/Ex prisoner/ Ex addict
/son of a KKK father" Big and Beautiful/ Formerly size 5 and bulimic", "Politician/MLA" "Person with a Disability" Gay Lawyer/Farmer/Figure Skater" "Plumber" (this was a single parent woman!) and many others. We were given tips about"what makes a good book" and "how to be a bestseller", how to initiate discussions with the 'readers' and the general protocol of being a 'book'.

On the day that the Living Library program took place, we met at 8.30 in the school Library and were given cardboard signs with our book titles and sat at tables where the kids would come to 'read' us,. The school classes took turns coming into the library and were escorted by volunteer students to whichever 'book' they wanted to 'read'. Usually there were two or three kids at a time, although occasionally only one student came and, in the case of the ex-gangster/addict/prisoner/son of a KKK father, he had swarms of kids around him all day long. And so did the gay books. You would never know to look at the 'books' who they were or had been so it was very interesting to hear the questions the kids asked and see their reactions. I think this is an excellent way of educating people about others who live very different life-styles and in this way it breaks down those prejudices and misconceptions.

My 'readers' were mainly interested in travel, where I'd been and good ideas for budget travel for students. A few were really interested in the writing aspect of my life and were kids who aspired to be writers too. I answered questions about 'voice' and 'setting details" One special coincidence happened when a young fellow said "I don't write but my grandfather does. He used to be a writer for the Vancouver Sun". It turned out that his grandfather was a reporter/BC history writer who I had great respect and admiration for when I was a copy runner at the Vancouver Sun newsroom back in the 1950's. Another young man, who is from Bangladesh, expressed an interest in visiting surfing beaches. I told him my grandson was a surfer who lived in California. This boy has never surfed but that is his dream, and part of the dream is to return to Bangladesh where there are some good surfing beaches. One of the volunteer students sat down with me at the end of the day and it turned out he was a Macedonian Greek from Thessaloniki. We had a vibrant chat about places both he and I love to visit such as Thassos Island. I thought that he was much like my Iskander in Shadow of the Lion -- not only with his intelligence and curiosity but his looks were what I visualize Iskander to have been like.

The entire day was an amazing experience and although I came home at the end of it feeling exhausted, I wouldn't have missed it for the world. I not only learned a lot about my 'readers' but I hope they learned something from 'reading' me as well.

Technorati Favorites" src="http://static.technorati.com/pix/fave/btn-fave2.png">

WRITING IS WORK!

2010-03-27T10:22:00.000-07:00

Don't kid yourself. Writing is work. And it can be very difficult work that requires a lot of concentration and skill. Some people think it's 'glamorous' to be a writer, believing that somehow novels are produced by osmosis or some kind of magical abrecadabra system. It's not true. Writing IS work.

It took me a long time to reach the point where I could say "I'm a full time writer", but that doesn't mean I just laze around home all day, playing at the computer, going on adventures, spinning tales. No. I really have to work at it if I want to make my writing 'pay'. Unfortunately this isn't as easy as a non-writer might think. For one thing, it's a big deal just trying to stay focused on what I'm supposed to be doing. There are countless distractions and I'm an expert at procrastinating or finding something more interesting to occupy my time. How many times a day does one need to check their e-mail or visit Facebook? That's just the beginning of all the numerous ways there are to avoid doing the 'work'.

In spite of teaching classes at which I go over the 'rules' of being a successful writer, I don't necessarily pay attention to them myself. Rome didn't get built in a day. Neither did a best selling novel.

Writing can be very discouraging work as well. If you are working on a novel, it can seem endless. Don't kid yourself into believing that a novel can be whipped up in a few months. It sometimes takes years! And don't think just because you have a good idea for a story that you'll be able to spin that story out in just a draft or two. Writing, rewriting, editing...it's endless!

Just to remind myself of the pitfall of writing, I will write down some of the basic 'rules' here and perhaps in doing so it will stimulate me to start paying attention to the task(s) at hand, because I have to do this in order to make any new headway on the novel (which is still not completely finished) and to also make time for the travel writing that I must do. As the travel writing (for Planet Eye Traveler and freelance markets) is one of my sources of income, this is very important. I also teach writing classes, another source of income that allows me the privilege of being a 'full time writer', but this also takes a lot of preparation. So it is most important to be organized and discipline. Someone recently wrote a statement that 'writing is 5% talent and 95% perseverance' Well, in the first place you need way more than 5% talent to write successfully otherwise it's a waste of your time. But you definitely need a lot of perseverance, maybe even 100%! Writing is not easy and it can be downright discouraging. So be be successful you must persevere.

What does it take to be a writer? Basic ability is not enough. You must observe these 5 D's: DESIRE, the desire to write that novel more than anything else! DRIVE: the drive to get started. DETERMINATION: the will to continue whatever the stumbling blocks and difficulties encountered along the way (there will be lots!); DISCIPLINE; The discipline to writer every day, whatever your mood; DEDICATION - to the project until the very last page is finished. At all costs, avoid this 6th "D" DISTRACTIONS: the enemy of all writers. And then there is the very important "C": COMMITMENT. When you start a project such as a novel, you must be committed if you want to finish the work. Sure, sometimes you need to take a break, do some other kind of writing, or tend to personal affairs, but if you are serious about your work you will come back to it refreshed and with new ideas that will help you COMPLETE your project.
This novel will be with you for a long time, so you better have thought about it beforehand. When it's ready to be written, you'[ll know. It will be with you day and night. You'll even dream about it. So, if you prefer painting, cooking or watching TV, forget it! Now, get busy and start WORKING!

Technorati Favorites" src="http://static.technorati.com/pix/fave/btn-fave2.png">

DOES ANCIENT GREECE EXIST?

2010-03-04T18:15:00.000-08:00

The first morning I arrived in Athens, Greece, in October 1979, I left the Tempi, my five-story walk-up hotel on Eolou Street and stepped out to the narrow cobbled roadway. I had no idea of my location, but when I looked up I saw at the end of the street, a high stone buttress and on top of it what I recognized as the Parthenon. I said to myself “Feet, just take me where you want to go!” and I started to walk.

I went down a block, past what is the ruins of Hadrian’s Library, turned right and kept on going down the narrow lanes until at last I was at the entrance to the ancient Agora. I stepped inside the gate, and stopped, transfixed. In that hot morning sun, what I saw the Agora exactly as it had been centuries ago. There were no ruins, just buildings and cobbled roadways and beyond it rising high against the blue Attic sky, the magnificent Acropolis crowned with it’s shining temples. I suddenly began to cry and could not stop. I knew then, that I had come ‘home’.

Some may say that ancient Greece does not exist. But I know it does. For that whole holiday I explored not only Athens, but other places nearby. And on future trips I would visit almost every important archaeological site in the country, as well as the beautiful islands with their golden sand and the brilliant blue Aegean Sea where once triremes and merchant ships plied their sea-routes.

If you have never been up on the Acopolis, seen the Parthenon bathed in the golden light of sunset, walked the shaded pine-scented groves of the Hill of Nymphs and stood on the Pnyx where the ancient Assembly met, you have not experienced the real Greece. Ancient Greece.

I have had many déjà-vu experienced in Greece such as that first one I had in the ancient agora of Athens. On my first visit to Delphi, traveling by bus with a Greek friend, we arrived at night and threw our sleeping bags down on the hillside, sleeping under a sky so clear and dazzling with stars you felt as if you might reach up and touch them. It was a full moon night, too. Totally magical.

In the morning I went to visit the sanctuary where for many centuries pilgrims came to consult the fabled Pythian in the Temple of Apollo. I, too, followed the rituals: first cleansing myself in the clean, pure waters of the Kastilian stream, then climbing back up the hill to enter the sacred ground. Even now the Greeks treat this site as sacred and demand respect from visitors. You feel the presence of the gods there, but you must see it on a day when there are not hordes of tourists. I have been many there many times. I make a pilgrimage to Delphi each time I visit Greece. And I know the gods do dwell there.

That first visit to Greece changed my life. A couple of years later, after several more visits, I decided to go and live there. It was a big decision because I had to leave a good job and my family behind. But I knew I must go. And I have never regretted it.

I lived in the Plaka, right below the east flank of the Acropolis in what was Athens ancient city. Every Sunday I climbed the steep marble steps up to the Parthenon and sat contemplating, absorbing the atmosphere and feeling the ancients around me.
This time I was on a quest to find Alexander, the invincible Macedonian hero of my teens, the one who I had written about since I was in high school and was once asked if I had really ‘been there and known him and his companions’ because I had such a strong connection with them. In my work-in-progress novel “Dragons in the Sky” which I began writing just before I went to live in Greece, I made that connection. A Celtic girl, acolyte of the Druids, who is kidnapped by a renegade chieftain’s son and finds herself in Macedonia at the time Alexander was recruiting warriors for his invasion of the East. I have channelled Olwen to tell her story. But if you believe in past lives, then perhaps I am really Olwen.

Several times I have walked the ruined streets of ancient Pella, visited Mieza, the school where Aristotle taught him and his friends, explored Dodoni, in Epiros, where Alexander’s mother had lived. And eventually, I even visited the Royal Tombs where the remains of his father and son were found in their tombs. That had to be one of my biggest thrills!

One of my most memorable trips was to the Sanctuary of the Great Gods in Samothraki where I walked alone down the highway through fields of yellow flowers where butterflies flitted in the sun. This Thracian Sanctuary of the Great Mother, one of the oldest in Greece, was visited by Greeks and slaves alike. And this is where Alexander’s father Philip met Olympias and later married. I have visited Samothraki twice and again felt the power of the ancient gods. On one occasion I visited the remains of the small Temple built to honour Alexander and Philip, and dedicated by Alexander’s brother Philip Arridaios and his little son Alexander IV who were named joint kings after Alexander’s death in Babylon 323BC

I have been to other sacred sites, too, including Dion near Mt. Olympus, and I’ve also many of the ancient theatres and had the thrill of seeing the ancient plays performed there. The archaeology and history of Greece is one of my passions.
When I started writing my novel “Shadow of the Lion” I became more and more involved in that ancient world and getting to know the characters from history who I am writing about. I have spent as much time as I can walking in those same places where they had walked, played, studied and lived their remarkable lives. To me, ancient Greece is very much alive and I would challenge anyone who says it is not, though perhaps these are the unlucky ones who have never had the privilege of seeing it for themselves.