PLOTTING FICTION: Where to Next?

An Iron Age Celtic Village  (St. Fagans Heritage Park, Cardiff, Wales)

 

 

 

When I started writing Dragons in the Sky back in the early '80's, I had a pretty good idea of how the story began. It started with me hearing the voice of the girl, Olwen, telling me her story, as if I was channeling Olwen. She is a young Celtic girl, raised by the Druids to become  priestess and medicine woman. The first chapters of the story came easily as I wrote down Olwen's words, sometimes using Bardic verse instead of regular prose chapters. She lives in a village called Caer Gwyn, much like the one in the above photo, located below a hill fort at the site of what is now called Old Sarum, on the Salisbury Plain. I've made a number of trips there to research and conjure Olwen's spirit.

 

 

Something dreadful happens at the Midsummer when Olwen is soon to be sent to the Holy Isle for her initiation.  The ricon's (tribal chieftain) renegade son, Sholto, has arrived at Caer Gwyn with a woman, the wife of another chieftain and a young boy he has taken as hostage from a rival tribe.  At the Midsummer Ceremony at the Great Stones, the angry warriors of the opposing tribes attack Caer Gwyn.  In the chaos that ensues when the village is set on fire, Olwen runs to the woods to hide and witnesses Sholto killing his younger brother Ned. He takes her as a hostage and heads south to the Narrow Sea where they take a boat across the Channel to the lands of the Belgae tribes. Olwen tries to alert the ship's boy that she is being held captive, and he tries to help her escape, but Sholto kills him.

They head off toward the east on horseback, crossing the lands of various other Celtic tribes until they reach the Alps, the country inhabited by the Helvettis, and continue on their journey.

As they proceed they meet a young warrior/hunter who tells Sholto that a king to the south is recruiting warriors for his army. This interests Sholto so he heads south, keeping a close eye on Olwen as she is his 'luck piece' because nobody dares to harm a Druid.  I know what happens once they reach Illyria, but it was the in-between part of the journey that has puzzled me.  So I have taken time to write out a rough plot of the possible things that might happen along the way, including several more escape attempts by Olwen.

I've decided to put some of it into Bardic verse rather than describe things step-by-step. The story, as told by Olwen, is written in a poetic cadence. One thing I've decided is that, having been held a captive for so long (it would take them a couple of months to cover the territory), she likely developed what is known now as "the Stockholm syndrome" where a captive becomes somehow 'attached' to their captor.  I also can see her using magic and her skills with herbs and medicines, to help her survive the arduous and sometimes frightening journey. But it was Sholto that was causing me some concern. Although the story is in Olwen's voice, I still need to make it clear what his intention are, what is he hoping to achieve on this journey?  Hopefully I have that taken care of now with my ideas for the plot outline.  It has been quite a different writing journey for me after spending all that time writing Shadow of the Lion which was based on a historic plot.  Writing pure fiction is quite a lot trickier!

Celtic Warriors



PROGRESS REPORT #39: DILEMMAS

Mount Olympus

"As Eos spread her yellow robe across the earth,
thunder-loving Zeus smmoned an assembly of the gods
on the highest crest of many-ridged Olympus."
Homer "The Iliad"

While my own writer's life has been going along fairly well, with a couple of new job offers for the Fall (Life Writing classes) and a recent publication on a travel 'zine, (www.intheknowtraveler.com/2704) there have been a few dilemmas to face. The major one is the fact that all the ads were removed from my travel web site as a result of "suspicious activity" -- and just when I was starting to make a bit of money to help pay for the web site costs! I know the source, or I'm pretty sure I do. It was probably well-meaning friends clicking the ads too often in their effort to help me out. So, a lesson learned. Be sure to tell you friends to be discreet if they intend to click. Now I am looking into other alternatives, because if I can't find a way to subsidize the web site I'm not sure how long I can keep it going and it's just been going so good, with lots of positive comments and praise from my readers and contributors. Check it out yourself and see at
www.travelthruhistory.com (New stories will be posted in another week or so for August and there's some very interesting ones including a 'tour' of Beijing.)

Other than that (and the problem will be solved soon) there hasn't been much to complain or worry about. The weather has been good; I'm enjoying the summer. Less distractions would be good but I have been able to do some writing. I recently posted a new story on my travel blog
http://travelthroughhistory.blogspot.com "The Ecstasy of Food". I still have a couple more travel stories to finish in order to catch up with the backlog. And I am s-l-o-w-l-y working on Shadow of the Lion. My characters are facing a number of dilemmas themselves, and I'm helping them work through one crisis after another. Here's an example of what's going on:

Shadows on a forest stream

THIS IS WHAT HAS HAPPENED: The Regent, Polyperchon has agreed to a truce. Olympias is given an ultimatum by Kassandros offering her safe passage to the island of Euboeia if she surrenders the fortress of Pydna. Of course, she refused.

Once back inside the fortress, Olympias summoned her council. She did not intend to ask for advice, but dictated her wishes. The commanders and soldiers sat mutely listening to her commands.

“We will fight them, “ she said. “We will repel any attack by Kassandros. Pynda is well fortified and soon our allies will join us with ships.” She reminded them of their bloodless victory at the border of Epiros when their enemies had fled.

One of the elder veterans cleared his throat and dared interject, "Madam, there’s no question you command respect as Alexander’s mother, but Polyperchon’s army has had many desertions, and now we can no longer be guaranteed support from your own people in Epiros.”
Olympias stiffened and glared at the man who had dared speak out so boldly. She would remember later to relieve him of his post.

Commander Kronos stepped forward and pleaded with her to reconsider the terms of the truce for the sake of the safety of the royal household.
“Madam, our troops here are no match against Kassandros’ forces. Let’s be honest. We can’t win where we are now. The best we could do is to harry Kassandros men and then get out. Unless we get more troops, any strike we make on land will be ineffectual.“

“Then,“ she countered swiftly. “When the ships come we will strike by sea. With a navy and land troops, we will block them inside the garrison at Dion. They would not dare force a fight inside the holy sanctuary.“

“Without Polyperchon’s help and the reinforcements we have waited for so long Eumenes‘ to send, we stand no chance against them should they attack us, ” Kronos insisted.

Olympias was adamant. “No! Never! And do not dare again to make such a suggestion or I will consider you a traitor too, and will have you put in chains.”

A rumble of voices spread through the gathering. Some looked to Kronos and nodded in support of him. Others looked at Olympias and glowered. Still they dared not disagree with her. She was haughty and irascible, yet she had proven in the past to be a
formidable leader. She was more than a queen. She was Alexander’s mother, the same to many of them, as a mother of a god.

The debate grew noisier. Some argued for accepting a truce, others protested acrimoniously, determined to hold out until Spring when surely Eumenes’ navy would arrive and Polyperchon would bring troops over the border from Thessaly.
Still Kronos resisted. “We have no guarantee that Eumenes' ships will come in time.. .or that Polyperchon will break the truce he has made with Kassandros.”

Olympias cut off his words with a sharp retort. “They will come, Kronos, and we will win!”
The men glanced at one another, but Kronos said no more. No one spoke again either to agree or argue. The council was dismissed and they went out.

After the men had left the council hall, Olympias went up on the ramparts to look out beyond the siege lines and fields toward the wild slopes of Mount Olympus. A sharp wind blew from the sea and she pulled her robe closer around her. Looking toward the splendid massif of the holy mount, she called upon the gods, beseeching them for a miracle.

She drew a slow breath and spoke: “Give me a sign!”

The sky was clear, but over the mountain dark clouds had gathered obscuring the snow-clad peaks. A prophecy? she wondered. Deep in her bones she felt an icy chill of doom, as if the gods were mocking her.

* * *

Mountain river