A fictional account of a history and people that never existed
I am ecstatic to report that my follow-up article for the Speculative Grammarian can now be read at: http://bit.ly/hCXg8F
The name of the piece is A Brief Essay on the Language and Mythology of the Ekhié and the neighbouring Mákek Peoples of the Highveld Forests and the Ancient Watmákekhié Site and was written under the guise of By Mr. J. Doe of the International Centre for the Studies of Previously Presumed Mythical Beings and Peoples and is a follow-up piece by certain J. Doe that tells a bit more about the world that the travel piece used in November 2010 is set. Find the November article at: http://bit.ly/aXDkDe and learn about Sir C.J. Cockspur’s dastardly plans to void the world of all but one, very much simplified language.
I had a lot of fun writing “A Brief Essay” because I could really let go (and use as many footnotes as possible) and sketch the peoples of the Highveld Forest which they inhabit. The idea of the builders of the pyramids building the first ones on the Highveld before moving on to Egypt was fleshed out with the idea of extraterrestrial people building them (or at least supervising) before moving on to Egypt. (And then, probably South America.)
I also got to play around with words in English and Afrikaans. For instance, “Watmákekhié” is taken from “Wat maak ek hier?”/”What am I doing here?”, while the greeting Hoo’gha’nitte is taken from “Hoe gaan dit?”/How are you?” (Lit. How goes it?), a phrase which in informal circumstances is sometimes assimilated so that it sounds like one word. Although Gha’nê is completely made up. Other words, like “broker” and “fairy dust” is just written with atrocious spelling to give them an exotic look.
I have a feeling Mr. J. Doe and the International Centre for the Studies of Previously Presumed Mythical Beings and Peoples will have some more research to share in the future. Maybe Mr. J. Doe will even manage to get his doctorate!
Good news for fans of Dean Barkley Briggs’ first book in The Legends of Karac Tor series. He has found a new publisher for the rest of the series! If you have not yet read The Book of Names, you will be in for a treat (and a belated Christmas present to yourself) if you can get your hands on it in January. I am going to post a review of the book on the blog “Ramblings of a Lone Bibliophile” within the next month (after a reread), but, until then, check out Dean Barkley Briggs’ site at: www.hiddenlands.net
Until next time.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
A Speculative Article for November
With boiling temperatures every day, who needs a better excuse to stay inside (in the shade) and write? While having to move my study nook from upstairs (extremely hot until about 9 in evenings) to downstairs (not fun dragging oodles of books down a flight of stairs, but at least it’s a lot cooler below), and not having done much in the writing of fiction, I can at least say that I have a piece published in November. Yes, the long awaited article for The Speculative Grammarian has been published under the pen name of Sir C J Cockspur. Find it at: http://specgram.com/CLX.2/11.cockspur.npicml.html
I’ve spent some time on the earlier history of the Midlands of Airthai and ended up with two good ideas for two short stories and half an idea for a third. The rest of the half-ideas fluttering around still need to be pounded into something useful before I can post it. Now if I can just finish those maps!
Otherwise I’m knee-deep in Nineteenth century Dutch poetry, which is a lot more interesting than it may sound!
I’ve spent some time on the earlier history of the Midlands of Airthai and ended up with two good ideas for two short stories and half an idea for a third. The rest of the half-ideas fluttering around still need to be pounded into something useful before I can post it. Now if I can just finish those maps!
Otherwise I’m knee-deep in Nineteenth century Dutch poetry, which is a lot more interesting than it may sound!
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Food for the Soul – Some Musical Inspiration
I nearly always have some kind of music playing. Whether I’m studying, writing, quilling and, yes, even sometimes while I’m reading. I came into the habit of studying with music via my sister. If I remember correctly, I was in grade 4 or 5 and trying to study to Bon Jovi. In time I found my own kind of music that helps me to focus while studying – Celtic.
When writing, I often have music as background. Mostly I choose something that will fit the kind of scene that I’m busy with. The music that I play can range from epic and Classical that inspire the sweeping vistas of the Midlands and their plains, to the mournful sounds of the sea and upbeat ditties and alternative.
Early music brings the world of Airthai to life and Chant brings to mind the libraries and studies of the Ealda and the Keepers.
Of course, what with listening to a lot of folk songs, some of them start to seep into the subconscious of Airthai (for instance the tale of the River of Gold)…
Folk song of the Midlands: The Maiden of the Stars
The sun was fair, the sky was clear, no breath came from the east,
When Elven knight left the woods of green, and wandered forth to war.
The mist it decked the mountain side and singing filled the vale,
By far the sweetest voice he’d heard, t’was the maiden of the stars.
Sing maiden of the stars, sing maiden of the stars, By far the sweetest voice he’d heard, t’was the maiden of the stars.
She sang a song of olden thought, unknown throughout the vale,
And drew to her power to calm the beast t'was raging there.
The fiery breath of dragon stilled, and calmed was his heart,
When she sang thus, in olden form, the maiden of the stars.
Sing maiden of the stars, sing maiden of the stars, when she sang thus, in olden form, the maiden of the stars.
The evil there was thwarted thus, by her sighing voice,
Its words were pure, remembered still far west, where fire ‘fore moon dies.
And there they met, two lovers crossed, by stars of heaven named,
And stood he there, entranced by song of the maiden of the stars.
Sing maiden of the stars, sing maiden of the stars, and stood he there, entranced by song of the maiden of the stars.
The sun was fair, the sky was clear, no breath came from the west,
When Elven knight, and maiden fair wandered o’er the earth.
The mist it decked the mountain side, and laughter filled the land,
By far the dearest love of all, t’was for the maiden of the stars.
Sing maiden of the stars, sing maiden of the stars, By far the dearest love of all, t’was for the maiden of the stars.
But years of mortals short are cut, by illness or by sword,
And maiden young was slain in youth and her song grew silent then.
The Elven knight was damned to live, and wailed at his lover’s side,
And all knew love had died that day, with the maiden of the stars.
Sing maiden of the stars, sing maiden of the stars, and all knew love had died that day with the maiden of the stars.
And years of elf-kind long do last, and heartbreak will surely slay,
And wandered lost the elven knight and bewailed his lover’s loss.
The Elven knight was to grow old before his bones be dust,
And meet again, the maid and he to sing among the stars.
Sing maiden of the stars, sing maiden of the stars, and meet again the maid and he, to sing among the stars.
When writing, I often have music as background. Mostly I choose something that will fit the kind of scene that I’m busy with. The music that I play can range from epic and Classical that inspire the sweeping vistas of the Midlands and their plains, to the mournful sounds of the sea and upbeat ditties and alternative.
Early music brings the world of Airthai to life and Chant brings to mind the libraries and studies of the Ealda and the Keepers.
Of course, what with listening to a lot of folk songs, some of them start to seep into the subconscious of Airthai (for instance the tale of the River of Gold)…
Folk song of the Midlands: The Maiden of the Stars
The sun was fair, the sky was clear, no breath came from the east,
When Elven knight left the woods of green, and wandered forth to war.
The mist it decked the mountain side and singing filled the vale,
By far the sweetest voice he’d heard, t’was the maiden of the stars.
Sing maiden of the stars, sing maiden of the stars, By far the sweetest voice he’d heard, t’was the maiden of the stars.
She sang a song of olden thought, unknown throughout the vale,
And drew to her power to calm the beast t'was raging there.
The fiery breath of dragon stilled, and calmed was his heart,
When she sang thus, in olden form, the maiden of the stars.
Sing maiden of the stars, sing maiden of the stars, when she sang thus, in olden form, the maiden of the stars.
The evil there was thwarted thus, by her sighing voice,
Its words were pure, remembered still far west, where fire ‘fore moon dies.
And there they met, two lovers crossed, by stars of heaven named,
And stood he there, entranced by song of the maiden of the stars.
Sing maiden of the stars, sing maiden of the stars, and stood he there, entranced by song of the maiden of the stars.
The sun was fair, the sky was clear, no breath came from the west,
When Elven knight, and maiden fair wandered o’er the earth.
The mist it decked the mountain side, and laughter filled the land,
By far the dearest love of all, t’was for the maiden of the stars.
Sing maiden of the stars, sing maiden of the stars, By far the dearest love of all, t’was for the maiden of the stars.
But years of mortals short are cut, by illness or by sword,
And maiden young was slain in youth and her song grew silent then.
The Elven knight was damned to live, and wailed at his lover’s side,
And all knew love had died that day, with the maiden of the stars.
Sing maiden of the stars, sing maiden of the stars, and all knew love had died that day with the maiden of the stars.
And years of elf-kind long do last, and heartbreak will surely slay,
And wandered lost the elven knight and bewailed his lover’s loss.
The Elven knight was to grow old before his bones be dust,
And meet again, the maid and he to sing among the stars.
Sing maiden of the stars, sing maiden of the stars, and meet again the maid and he, to sing among the stars.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
A Strange Ribbon and a Book Keeper…
Some good news! (Other than getting Riverdance tickets for the opening night!) Jou Wêreld have published "Die rooi lint", a sci-fi tale that plays out in my hometown.
Here's the link for the Afrikaans:
http://www.jouwereld.co.za/jf_rooi_lint.html
I'll also put up the English soon. In the meantime, here's another flash piece.
The Book Keeper
Bernhardt van der Hout started clearing his desk. It was amazing what one person could gather in forty-two years. He had worked for almost half a century at the Johannesburg National Library. The building itself was Victorian, complete with pillars and stone work, with the date 1886 above the front doors. One of the young, new employees led two others with trolleys into his office.
“You can start loading it up.”
Bernhardt shot daggers at the little man. Had he no sense? You don’t spend forty-two years in one place and pack it up in a day. He would never be able to pack all his memories anyway.
The cold hand around his heart did not want to let go. He gulped, and blinked and cleared his throat, but nothing helped. He had to ask the question he dreaded.
“What about the books?”
The young man looked puzzled.
“This is the library – the books will be here.” He smiled the smile that young people give to their elders when they thought they were being silly.
“You said there will be a new computer room.” Swallow, gulp, blink.
“One room.” He smiled the same smile. “We’re knocking a wall down. Building a new wing.” He sighed. “The books will just be moved to the top two floors.” Grin.
“I was referring to the books kept in the basement.”
The young man mumbled something.
“Excuse me?”
“Pulped. We will pulp them. They should fetch a couple of bucks at the recycling depot.”
Bernhardt lifted his hand to slap the man, but stopped himself, an idea popping into his head. “I’ll buy them.” The voice was bereft of the emotion he felt, as if it was not truly him that had spoken so brashly. “I’ll pay by the kilogram, or ton. I don’t know. However the recycling depot would have paid you. I’ll match them,” he rambled. He started figuring out what his pension was worth. He would still have some money put away for a rainy day.
The young man stood at the window, hands crossed behind his back. The stark summer sun fell on his face, bathing it in a yellowish light. Again he smiled that arrogant, young man smile. Bernhardt wondered if he had also looked like that the day that he moved into this office.
The days he spent placing books back on the shelf, rearranging books, unpacking the new books with their heady scent of crisp paper and glue, seemed but a day old. Definitely not forty-two years. Maybe he was also arrogant once.
“What’s the difference if I take them or if you pulp them? Either way you’ll be rid of them and have the money.”
“It’s just a bunch of old books –“
“And I’m just an old man.” There he had admitted it. Yet, with those words, something changed in the eyes of the young man.
“I also love books, you know,” he said apologetically. “But we need to make money if we’re to survive.” He turned back to the window. Small drops of rain started to patter on the glass. He smiled. “Fox is marrying wolf’s wife.”
He suddenly looked very young for the task at hand.
“You know, I made it a point that they will not close this library while I can help it.” Swallow. Blink. He turned and left, heading for the basement.
The books arrived at his house three days later. They unloaded the boxes and unpacked the books for hours on end. They started stacking the books in his study, then the bedrooms and the hall before moving on to the lounge and filling the dining room. And the icy grip around his heart lessened as he picked a volume up.
Travels in the Petrified Forests of the Northern Highveld, he read the fading title. This was one he had rescued early in his career when they wanted to sell off the books no one borrowed. In the front there was even a signature and a photo of the author next to a giant baobab. Some piles constituted the libraries of whole families. One book case was totally filled with family Bibles, the names written in the front smudged, the pages scorched from surviving many wars. No, he would not forget them.
He sat down at his desk and took up a piece of paper. He licked the tip of his pencil and started writing.
Bernhardt van der Hout started clearing his desk. It was amazing what one person could gather in forty-two years. He had worked for almost half a century at the Johannesburg National Library. The building itself was Victorian, complete with pillars and stone work, with the date 1886 above the front doors.
Here's the link for the Afrikaans:
http://www.jouwereld.co.za/jf_rooi_lint.html
I'll also put up the English soon. In the meantime, here's another flash piece.
The Book Keeper
Bernhardt van der Hout started clearing his desk. It was amazing what one person could gather in forty-two years. He had worked for almost half a century at the Johannesburg National Library. The building itself was Victorian, complete with pillars and stone work, with the date 1886 above the front doors. One of the young, new employees led two others with trolleys into his office.
“You can start loading it up.”
Bernhardt shot daggers at the little man. Had he no sense? You don’t spend forty-two years in one place and pack it up in a day. He would never be able to pack all his memories anyway.
The cold hand around his heart did not want to let go. He gulped, and blinked and cleared his throat, but nothing helped. He had to ask the question he dreaded.
“What about the books?”
The young man looked puzzled.
“This is the library – the books will be here.” He smiled the smile that young people give to their elders when they thought they were being silly.
“You said there will be a new computer room.” Swallow, gulp, blink.
“One room.” He smiled the same smile. “We’re knocking a wall down. Building a new wing.” He sighed. “The books will just be moved to the top two floors.” Grin.
“I was referring to the books kept in the basement.”
The young man mumbled something.
“Excuse me?”
“Pulped. We will pulp them. They should fetch a couple of bucks at the recycling depot.”
Bernhardt lifted his hand to slap the man, but stopped himself, an idea popping into his head. “I’ll buy them.” The voice was bereft of the emotion he felt, as if it was not truly him that had spoken so brashly. “I’ll pay by the kilogram, or ton. I don’t know. However the recycling depot would have paid you. I’ll match them,” he rambled. He started figuring out what his pension was worth. He would still have some money put away for a rainy day.
The young man stood at the window, hands crossed behind his back. The stark summer sun fell on his face, bathing it in a yellowish light. Again he smiled that arrogant, young man smile. Bernhardt wondered if he had also looked like that the day that he moved into this office.
The days he spent placing books back on the shelf, rearranging books, unpacking the new books with their heady scent of crisp paper and glue, seemed but a day old. Definitely not forty-two years. Maybe he was also arrogant once.
“What’s the difference if I take them or if you pulp them? Either way you’ll be rid of them and have the money.”
“It’s just a bunch of old books –“
“And I’m just an old man.” There he had admitted it. Yet, with those words, something changed in the eyes of the young man.
“I also love books, you know,” he said apologetically. “But we need to make money if we’re to survive.” He turned back to the window. Small drops of rain started to patter on the glass. He smiled. “Fox is marrying wolf’s wife.”
He suddenly looked very young for the task at hand.
“You know, I made it a point that they will not close this library while I can help it.” Swallow. Blink. He turned and left, heading for the basement.
The books arrived at his house three days later. They unloaded the boxes and unpacked the books for hours on end. They started stacking the books in his study, then the bedrooms and the hall before moving on to the lounge and filling the dining room. And the icy grip around his heart lessened as he picked a volume up.
Travels in the Petrified Forests of the Northern Highveld, he read the fading title. This was one he had rescued early in his career when they wanted to sell off the books no one borrowed. In the front there was even a signature and a photo of the author next to a giant baobab. Some piles constituted the libraries of whole families. One book case was totally filled with family Bibles, the names written in the front smudged, the pages scorched from surviving many wars. No, he would not forget them.
He sat down at his desk and took up a piece of paper. He licked the tip of his pencil and started writing.
Bernhardt van der Hout started clearing his desk. It was amazing what one person could gather in forty-two years. He had worked for almost half a century at the Johannesburg National Library. The building itself was Victorian, complete with pillars and stone work, with the date 1886 above the front doors.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Tiriane and the Tellerassar – A Glimpse of a Larger World in "A Dragon's Freedom"
The Tellerassar came into the world of Airthai quite early on. The first story I wrote about Airthai included one of the Keepers being a person that could turn into the form of an eagle and back to their human form at will. Soon I delved into their history – they had this gift (that they could also lose) and were a new race of people. Yet, they were part-human as well, which got me to thinking that they were normal humans once, which received the gift of shape-shifting from the Creator. They were also the "good guys" from the start, so they did not change their shape by using magic. It was a natural state of being for them.
The people of the Midlands called them "Heimfeie" according to the name that was given to their country. They, however, were not happy to stay on the fringes of the stories. In a set much later, an Elf referred to them as the "Tellerassar", a name which I felt had a lovely ring to it. It turned out that, in the Tellerassar's own tongue, they refer to themselves as such. "Heimfeie" is mostly used by those that are less educated in the peoples of the Midlands. Nasja, for instance, would only have learned to use the word "Tellerassar" from Tiriane.
The Tellerassar have their own tongue that was gifted to them when they received the gift of changing their shape. This tongue is mostly fictional, though there are some influences of the other tongues of Airthai, including the language that is used in "A Dragon's Freedom" to communicate with the dragons (Gothic). The Tellerassar language looks like this:
"A Agrai tellarias or s’agrélar silássa."
Which is translated as:
"May the Light of the One shine on your road" // “Mag die Lig van die Een op jou pad skyn.”
Note: The apostrophe is used to denote a glottal stop. "Tellar" means "Light" and "Tellerassar" means "People of the Light". "Agrai" means "One" and refers to the Creator. The Light of the One/Creator refers to a blessing
The people of the Midlands called them "Heimfeie" according to the name that was given to their country. They, however, were not happy to stay on the fringes of the stories. In a set much later, an Elf referred to them as the "Tellerassar", a name which I felt had a lovely ring to it. It turned out that, in the Tellerassar's own tongue, they refer to themselves as such. "Heimfeie" is mostly used by those that are less educated in the peoples of the Midlands. Nasja, for instance, would only have learned to use the word "Tellerassar" from Tiriane.
The Tellerassar have their own tongue that was gifted to them when they received the gift of changing their shape. This tongue is mostly fictional, though there are some influences of the other tongues of Airthai, including the language that is used in "A Dragon's Freedom" to communicate with the dragons (Gothic). The Tellerassar language looks like this:
"A Agrai tellarias or s’agrélar silássa."
Which is translated as:
"May the Light of the One shine on your road" // “Mag die Lig van die Een op jou pad skyn.”
Note: The apostrophe is used to denote a glottal stop. "Tellar" means "Light" and "Tellerassar" means "People of the Light". "Agrai" means "One" and refers to the Creator. The Light of the One/Creator refers to a blessing
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
A Dragon's Freedom is published!
You can now find my short story "A Dragon's Freedom" at the Cross and Cosmos e-zine (http://www.crossandcosmos.com/), in Issue 5.
Also, the translated flash piece "Tournament" is up at Woes as "Die Toernooi".
Also, the translated flash piece "Tournament" is up at Woes as "Die Toernooi".
Monday, October 4, 2010
Woes Posts & Airthai Map News
Ek het begin om van my Afrikaanse skryfwerk by Woes te gaan plaas. Die skakel na my profielblad is: http://woes.co.za/skrywers/9581_CarinMarais.htm.
Een van die stukke is die vertaalde weergawe van Eldarion Whargahn, met aangepaste spelling om by die Afrikaanse skrywyse te pas. Ek gaan voortgaan om kort stukkies daar te plaas, en dink dit is veral 'n goeie plek vir die vertaalde dele wat hier verskyn. Hopelik is dit dan makliker om tussen die verskillende tale te beweeg.
I have started to put some of my Afrikaans works up at Woes. The link to my profile page is: http://woes.co.za/skrywers/9581_CarinMarais.htm .
One of the pieces is the translated version of Eldarion Whargahn, with the spelling fitted to that of Afrikaans. I'm going to keep on putting some pieces up there, and I think it is a good place to put the translated pieces that I put up here. I hope that it will then be easy to move between the different languages.
In ander nuus is ek steeds besig om die kaarte vir Airthai oor te teken en vind dit vat bietjie langer as wat ek gedink het. Om die hele gedeelte van die wêreld in een (A4) kaart te sit wat in "A Dragon's Freedom" verskyn is ook nogal moeilik – dit begin in die Suidelike Lande en eindig in die Middellande. Dit beteken dit strek oor 'n woestyn en 'n paar lande. Aangesien ek die Tellerassar insluit in die verhaal, moet mens ook darem kan aandui waar hulle land is! Wel, vanaand is dit ek en 'n paar penne om die kaarte klaar te teken! Dan kan ek dit hierdie week plaas.
In other news, I am still busy drawing the Airthai maps and finding that it's taking a bit longer than I have anticipated. To put the whole part of the world that is featured in "A Dragon's Freedom" into one (A4) map is quite difficult – it starts in the Southern Lands and ends in the Middle Lands. That means it stretches over a desert and a couple of lands. Seeing that the Tellerassar also plays a part in the story, you have to be able to show where that is! Well, tonight it's me and a couple of pens to finish drawing the maps! Then I can still post it this week.
Een van die stukke is die vertaalde weergawe van Eldarion Whargahn, met aangepaste spelling om by die Afrikaanse skrywyse te pas. Ek gaan voortgaan om kort stukkies daar te plaas, en dink dit is veral 'n goeie plek vir die vertaalde dele wat hier verskyn. Hopelik is dit dan makliker om tussen die verskillende tale te beweeg.
I have started to put some of my Afrikaans works up at Woes. The link to my profile page is: http://woes.co.za/skrywers/9581_CarinMarais.htm .
One of the pieces is the translated version of Eldarion Whargahn, with the spelling fitted to that of Afrikaans. I'm going to keep on putting some pieces up there, and I think it is a good place to put the translated pieces that I put up here. I hope that it will then be easy to move between the different languages.
In ander nuus is ek steeds besig om die kaarte vir Airthai oor te teken en vind dit vat bietjie langer as wat ek gedink het. Om die hele gedeelte van die wêreld in een (A4) kaart te sit wat in "A Dragon's Freedom" verskyn is ook nogal moeilik – dit begin in die Suidelike Lande en eindig in die Middellande. Dit beteken dit strek oor 'n woestyn en 'n paar lande. Aangesien ek die Tellerassar insluit in die verhaal, moet mens ook darem kan aandui waar hulle land is! Wel, vanaand is dit ek en 'n paar penne om die kaarte klaar te teken! Dan kan ek dit hierdie week plaas.
In other news, I am still busy drawing the Airthai maps and finding that it's taking a bit longer than I have anticipated. To put the whole part of the world that is featured in "A Dragon's Freedom" into one (A4) map is quite difficult – it starts in the Southern Lands and ends in the Middle Lands. That means it stretches over a desert and a couple of lands. Seeing that the Tellerassar also plays a part in the story, you have to be able to show where that is! Well, tonight it's me and a couple of pens to finish drawing the maps! Then I can still post it this week.
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