Myth and Malarky
Wednesday, April 17, 2024
A Much Needed Change
Tuesday, November 7, 2023
“I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.”
- T.S. Eliot
It came out of Africa centuries ago and has since established a foothold in every part of the world. For most people in the world, coffee is an elixir vitae. They are not the same unless they have had that first cup of rich, black stuff after they have gotten out of bed. They cannot start their day without it. Coffee is a social-thing too, a reason for friends and family to get together. However, for writers, famous and unknown, coffee takes on an even greater level of importance.
If you write on a timetable or a schedule, coffee helps get your primed and focused to fill up that blank computer screen. Yes, I sing the praises of that blessed caffeine-kick. However, at least for me, there is more to it than that. For me, coffee is a meditation. Drinking it is a multi-sensory experience. For starters, there is that heavenly scent. That’s often enough to wake you up on its own – especially if it’s freshly ground.
As I raise my cup, I pay attention to the warmth of the cup and then take a moment to breathe in that rich scent. I pour it slowly toward my lips, well aware of its delicious heat and making sure I get just enough of it in each sip, so I don’t burn myself. Then, there’s the taste. I drink my coffee black, the way the gods meant for it to be consumed, so we’ll say the taste is – let’s call it jarring. With each sip, I start thinking about what I need to write. Halfway through the cup, I’m ready to begin, and I have the focus needed to see me through that round of writing.
There is this romanticized notion that writers and other artists need to wait to be inspired before they can create anything. Ha! Even the greats will laugh in the face of this. Jack London was famous for saying, “You can’t wait for inspiration, you have to go after it with a club.”
Well then, I say let coffee be your muse, your inspiration. Halfway through that first cup, you’re going to be alert and focused, and you’re already sitting at your computer so you might as well give it go. See what happens. You might be surprised.
Let’s not forget, that without coffee, we wouldn’t have coffee houses. They bring writers, these mostly solitary creatures, out of their lairs and into the bright light of day. Coffee houses are great places to meet other writers, share your works in progress and give each other feedback.
It’s also a great place to bear down and get some writing done. I can only speak for myself when I say that sometimes writing at home can get dull. There are also too many available distractions. When I write at a coffee house though, I’m definitely more focused. I’m there for a purpose, and I do not leave my seat until I’ve finished whatever writing I have planned on doing for that day.
While doing my research for this post, I read about some very famous coffee houses that legendary writers used to haunt. The Elephant House in Edinburgh, Scotland was a favorite spot for authors Ian Rankin and Alexander McCall-Smith. It’s also where a single mother named J.K. Rowling created a pop culture icon. Vesuvio Café in San Francisco was a gathering place for the poets of the Beat Generation, and Café La Rotande in Paris played host to the likes of Gertrude Stein, F. Scott Fitzgerald, T.S. Eliot, and Ernest Hemingway. I’m tempted to pilgrimage to one of these sacred places with a pen and notebook and see if I catch any residual creative energy left behind by these great authors.
Also, while doing research for this post, I also came across what seems to be an anti-coffee conspiracy. There are heretics out there on the internet that actually believe coffee may actually inhibit creativity. I think those people were never creative to begin with.
One of these blasphemers did bring up a good point that, often times, great ideas come when you’re not trying or when you’re the middle of another activity. I do agree. This has happened to me quite a bit. However, none of these moments would be possible without those coffee-driven rounds of writing. That is the soil from which these new ideas will later blossom when they are ready.
Others preached that coffee was a health hazard, a poison that will take years off of your life. Well, tell that to Voltaire. He drank 30-40 cups of coffee a day and lived to be 83.
DISCLAIMER: I do not recommend drinking 30-40 cups of coffee a day, even though it apparently worked for Voltaire.
Tuesday, September 5, 2023
Authors and Cats
I know I’m not the first author to refer to my cat as a muse (Or is it “mews?”). As I sat down to write this blog post, my cat, Luna, decided to join me. In fact, every time I write, she has to join me and graciously allows me room to write at my desk. She may not pin me to my chair the way Oates’ cat does, but something about her presence and her proximity keeps me relaxed and allows ideas to freely flow, and all she ever asks for in return is a little scratching behind the ears.
Monday, August 28, 2023
Authors and Mental Illness
This was originally published as "Writers and Mental Illness" in June 2020.
This isn't a very fun subject to discuss, but it's an important one. In my twenties, I was diagnosed with a "Major Depressive Disorder with Anxiety." It has over the years impeded my productivity, which is why I posted this original post -- after having not posted anything for months.
It's so hard explaining depression to people, and that's because depression is a confusing and frustrating condition. It makes no sense. It leaves no outward physical signs. It's all internal. And often I don't know what's going to trigger me until I actually get triggered. All I can do is try to be more careful next time.
I'm also starting to believe everyone's depression is different. It's a shapeshifter. A trickster. Depressives may share some common symptoms such as the negative thinking and feelings of hopelessness, but from what I've experienced we each have a little extra something-something.
When my depression flares up, it's often accompanied by tension headaches -- I've compared it to having storm clouds in my head. That tension will run all the way down my neck and into my shoulders and back. I'd go as far as to call it physical damage left behind from battling my negative thoughts (aka my demons). That's why depressives get so tired and listless. We've been spending hours and hours fighting with our minds, trying to get them under control again.
Mental illness has been getting more attention these days, which is great. But there are still so many people out there convinced that it's a choice and not a condition. Believe me it's not! I don't choose to fall into such a deep pit of despair where I'm wondering if life is worth living. Who in the hell would actually choose that?
I had some not so great care in the beginning. Most of the "experts" I saw tried to convince me that after a few rounds of medication and a handful of therapy sessions I'd be okay. It wasn't until, later on, I realized that is not the case. This is a condition I'm going to live with for the rest of my life, and I need to learn how to manage it.
I'm not knocking medication. It does serve a purpose. It's the foundation that supports the rest of my treatment. I've heard people knock therapy, saying therapists don't "do anything." Yes, they do. Their job is to get you thinking about your own mind, get you to ask yourself important questions, and help you draw important conclusions. We're not fixing a car. We're talking about the human mind. It's a little more complex than even a combustion engine.
Therapy has helped me greatly. I was lucky to meet a particular therapist who was an expert in EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing). I made the most growth working with him. He was the first therapist to realize I also suffered from Complex PTSD (the results of a not very happy childhood).
EMDR basically helps you rewire your brain. After a lifetime of negative and destructive thought patterns, paths literally get carved into your brain. You have no choice but to go down them. You've known nothing else. EMDR has helped me pave over those old paths and helped me forge healthier new ones.
On top of that, I make sure to get plenty of exercise, eat right, get enough sleep, and maintain that precious work-life balance.
As far as how my depression relates to my creativity ...
There is the romanticized notion of the Tortured Artist, and why not? Many great artists, painters such Vincent Van Gogh and Salvador Dali, and authors such as Ernest Hemingway and Slyvia Plath, have all dealt with some form of mental illness.
In the case of Bipolars, they may be more productive during periods of Mania. There is no conclusive evidence that being mentally ill makes your creative, but there are cases that support the idea that mental illness can aid in creativity. However, it is generally agreed that mental illness does not have to be present for creativity to exist. I've also come across evidence that creative people are more prone to mental illness. Biology is also a factor.
I don't feel qualified to discuss this medically in depth. I can only speak from personal experience.
I remember one time while I was in a writers' group, I brought up my depression, and a member of group asked if I could "use it" in my writing. The answer is an emphatic no.
Depression gets in the way of my writing. It gets in the way of EVERYTHING. It often leaves me with no motivation to do anything. In fact, my depression will trigger my imagination and send me spiraling into all sorts of doomsday/worst case scenario thinking.
Lately though, I've wondered if my depression has influenced my writing on some level. After all, all those dark feelings and thoughts need to be expressed somehow.
Maybe depression is the flip side of my creativity. When writing, I am pushing my mind to its limits. Maybe the depression is the result of going too far sometimes? It's the price I pay for my creativity.
On the other hand, my creativity -- my stories -- have ended long bouts of depression too. It wasn't easy. I really had to force myself. It was like walking through hell to get to heaven. One of these trips resulted in the completion of my book, Illumina.
Writing, creating new worlds and characters, fills me with hope. The process, in and of itself, brings me a level of peace and joy nothing else does. At the risk of sounding crazy, I'd go as far as to say that writing is a spiritual experience for me.
So, for anyone out there who is experiencing depression, mania, or anxiety, do not hold it in, ignore it, or think you can simply distract yourself from it, and it will go away. No, it will not go away on its own, although it may seem like it at times. Remember, it's a shapeshifter. A trickster.
Above all, do not be ashamed of it. There are people out there who will try to invalidate what you're experiencing, saying you're "being oversensitive" or "making a big deal out of nothing." They'll tell you to "just get over it" or "lighten up." Like I said before, they think depression is a choice and not a condition.
Don't pay any attention to these people. Your thoughts and your feelings are meaningful and valid, despite what others might tell you. Seek professional help and hold on to the people in your life who will truly support you in this process. There is no quick cure. No magic pill. It is ongoing. It can be frustrating and challenging at times, but don’t give up, hang in there. I assure you it is worth it.
Thursday, August 3, 2023
Alice Kyteler
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My first night in Ireland was spent in Kilkenny City. After a few drinks and a great bowl of seafood chowder, I booked a place on the ghost tour of the city. It was very fun, and our guide was very friendly and knowledgeable. One of the stops we made was to Kyteler's Inn, which had been owned by Alice Kyteler, the first woman to ever be accused of witchcraft in Ireland. I was already somewhat familiar with her story. I learned some additional details for our guide.
Alice was born in 1263. She was said to be very attractive and sophisticated. In 1280, she married her first husband -- In 1302, she married her second husband -- in 1309, her third -- and in 1324, her fourth. Each husband died from "illness," except her third one. He was said to have died during a "drunken spree." Each of Alice's husbands were very rich and very successful, and their fortunes went to Alice after they died.
Early on, people were already accusing Alice of witchcraft -- that was pretty common for independent and financially successful women back then. It was her fourth husband, who brought formal charges against her shortly before he died. Suddenly, witnesses came out of nowhere claiming to have seen Alice and her associates making sacrifices to the Devil and that her large black dog was actually a shapeshifting demon.
Unfortunately for her prosecutor, Richard Ledrede, the bishop of Ossory, Alice had some very influential friends. In fact, she even got Ledrede arrested. He was released by John Darcy, the Lord Chief Justice. However, by then, Alice had fled Ireland and disappeared into history. Sadly, one of her servants was made a scapegoat for her "crimes" and was flogged and burned at the stake.
Our guide shared a theory about the deaths of Alice Kyteler's husbands. Three out of four of them, the ones who took ill before they passed, displayed symptoms associated with arsenic poisoning -- emaciation, fingernails falling off, and hair turning gray and falling out.
Apparently, arsenic poisoning was not common in that era so medical experts were not able to give a proper diagnosis. Therefore, it was deemed to be the results of witchcraft. So instead of a witch, Alice may have been a "black widow," marrying rich men, killing them, and inheriting their wealth.
Aside from her story, Alice left behind her inn -- Kyteler's Inn. It was established in 1324. Originally, it was her home, but she expanded it into an inn, where she was said to entertain rich and influential men who showered her with expensive gifts.
I didn't get a chance to visit the inn, but it sounds like an awesome place. Customers are treated to old school charm and 21st Century amenities, live music, and amazing food and drinks. They can even join in comparative whiskey and gin tastings and learn how to make perfect Irish coffee.
Sigh. Maybe next time.
I left a link below for anyone who wants to learn more about Kyteler's Inn. Enjoy!
Tuesday, July 11, 2023
The Blarney Witch
Monday, June 5, 2023
The Fomorians
The Greek gods battled the Titans. The Norse gods, the Aesir, had mortal enemies in the Jotunn. Not to be left out, the Irish gods, the Tuatha Dé Danann, had the Fomorians, demonic giants whom they battled for possession of Ireland.
The origin of the Fomorians is open to interpretation. If you break down their name -- Fo means below or beneath -- Mo means sea. This could mean they came either from the sea or some form of underworld. Or maybe both. After all, they are connected to Domnu, a primordial goddess commonly known as "The Queen of the Dark Places." Who's to say those dark places exist both underground and in the ocean depths?
The Fomorians are mentioned early on in the Book of Invasions, which chronicles the different tribes that called Ireland home, before and after the Tuatha Dé Danann. In the beginning, the Fomorians weren't depicted as being demonic giants. Instead, they came off more like pirates from some unknown land.
As a writer, I took some liberty with the Fomorians' origins for my Colin Caulfield and the Irish Gods series. I portray the Fomorians as originally being human pirates who worshipped Domnu. They tried to take over Ireland multiple times. After constantly failing, their egos broken, they looked to their goddess for help and begged Domnu to give them the power to defeat their enemies and take over Ireland. Domnu listened and turned them into the monsters they are today.
Fomorians appear grotesque and misshapen. Some even have animal heads or missing or multiple body parts. I shouldn't say all of them. Some Fomorians are born human-looking and even considered "darkly beautiful." It reminds me of how the Frost Giants on Norse mythology were said to have incredibly beautiful daughters -- for no discernible reason whatsoever.
There is one Fomorian I want to focus on in particular, because he is set to make his presence felt in the second installment of Colin Caulfield and the Irish Gods -- The Fifth Cycle: Lost Gods.
His name is Balor.
He is the greatest leader the Fomorians ever had and is described as a grotesque giant with one bulbous eye in the middle of his head. That eye remains closed most of the time. For good reason. If he opens it, anyone he stares at dies a tortuous, horrifying death.
In addition to being a heavy-hitter for the bad guys, Balor and Colin share a very personal connection. It starts with a prophecy, many centuries ago, where Balor learns he will be killed by his grandson. To prevent this from happening, he locks his only -- and very gorgeous daughter, Ethniu, in a tower so no one can reach her. Or least that was his plan.
Cian, one of the Tuatha Dé Danann, learns about Ethniu and the prophecy. He's angry about Balor stealing a prize cow, and out of revenge uses some magic to sneak into Ethniu's tower, seduces her, and impregnates her with triplet boys.
This prophecy is similar to one involving the Greek Titan, Cronus. In it, he hears how one of his children will grow up and kill him. To keep this from happening, he killed his children -- specifically he ate them. However, at the last second, his wife swapped a stone in place of the youngest child, the boy who would become Zeus, king of the Greek gods. She hid him, and Zeus was raised in secret by his grandmother, Gaia, until he became full-grown, killed his father, and took his place. Before Cronus died though, Zeus made him regurgitate his siblings, who were somehow still alive.
When Balor learns about Ethniu's pregnancy, he makes a similar choice as Cronus. Instead of eating his triplet grandsons though, Balor chucks them into the ocean. Only one of them survives. He is rescued by Mannanán, the god of the sea, and whisked away to the Otherworld where he's raised in secret. This boy grows up to become Lugh, the god of light, the greatest warrior, and master of all crafts.
Not to mention Colin's father.
Like Zeus, Lugh grows up to face off with Balor during an epic battle between the Tuatha Dé Danann and the Fomorians. He fulfills the prophecy by killing Balor. In some versions, he uses a magical weapon known as the Invincible Spear. In some others, he uses a sling -- which makes this story comparable to David and Goliath.
At this point in time, The Fifth Cycle: Lost Gods is still a work-in-progress. All I will say is that Balor is set to make his grand appearance -- or reappearance near the end of the book, in what I hope will be a surprising manner. He will continue to make his presence felt in later installments of the series.
Until then, if I plan on releasing The Fifth Cycle: Lost Gods in time for St. Paddy's Day 2024 (I hope, I hope, I hope), I best get back to writing.
A Much Needed Change
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For those who read the newsletter I sent out earlier this week, my unexpected and prolonged absence was due to me getting a gifted teaching ...