Writing Blog Number 2 (continued)

20260306 Novel #42

Novel #42

So… I was reading a book on Celtic mythology and belief because of course I was, when I came across a reference to a paper from a renowned UK academic. In this paper, she posited that the Green Man of popular legend and belief was not always a Green Man and that this change only came after the Roman invasion of the Celtic world. Before then, it was a Green Woman, and she cites many examples of images of the ‘Green Man’ that clearly have the pendulous breasts of an earth-mother, but which people have stated was either androgynous or male with one female aspect.
         The fact that the worship was that of nature and we still, to this day, refer to the concept as “Mother Nature” would lend credence to her conclusion, as well as the fact that women were the healers of pre-Romanic Britain. Men were buried with weapons, women with herb lore implements. But the Roman culture was very patriarchal and the idea of female leaders was anathema to them, and so the writers and rulers ignored what was there. It is believed this is where the idea of the “evil witch” entered the popular culture, as legends in ancient Greece and Mesopotamia before Rome saw witches as being either good or evil, they were not wholly one or the other.

”Great, Steven, a boring history lesson. So what?”

The next novel was born of that research. It is told in a non-linear narrative, and I play with the Robin Hood myth as well as the Green Man myth, and the tale basically tells of a group of people protecting the woods of the Green Woman in the UK from the Brown Man and some humans. I had a UK friend read it and she made me change so much about the setting it was like it was a different work, but at least she did that and didn’t just laugh at me.
         At 80k words, it is a good novel length and I don’t mind this one. Some readers find the non-linear aspects a little awkward, but the central story, of the main group of archaeologists is chronological, so that helps, I think.

Excerpt
         Everyone came to an abrupt halt. The two metre by one metre excavation was only twenty centimetres or so deep, but already the unearthed layout could be seen. Numerous dirty white lumps protruded at various heights, but two of them showed the exact nature of them all.
         The dirt-filled eye-holes stared at nothing; the lower mandibles were attached to nothing; the eternal grins laughed at everything. None could draw their attention from the two skulls watching them all as if that was what they had been waiting for, near-anticipation in those blank faces. Two dead people; others waiting to be fully revealed; and how many more that was that were buried down there no-one could tell.
         “Shit!” Marian’s voice cut through the silence. Celeste put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, to comfort herself as much as her partner.
         “Yes,” her father agreed sadly. He looked over at Benjamin, having joined them from within the incident tent and now standing at the periphery of the workers. His expression mirrored that of the professor and he nodded once. “Okay, sorry everyone,” Matt said, holding his hands up. “We’ve got to leave now… I mean, put your stuff away and then go… No, not go… We’ll meet at the pub… the hotel… Yeah… I mean…”
         “We’ve found human remains so we have to notify the authorities.” Celeste took over immediately. “So, just pack up and we’ll all meet at the hotel, yeah? Now, where’s Richie?”
         “He’s gone to wait for the police,” Lawrence, Benjamin’s young off-sider, said from the back of the crowd, his voice sounding weaker and more pathetic than anyone else. “I think he called them pretty much straight away.”
         “Good.” Celeste looked at them all. “Sorry, guys. I hope we’ll have more info when we get back to the hotel. We’ll see everyone there, yeah?”
         Slowly, the small crowd dispersed, heading down the two tracks towards the gates and the waiting vehicles. Not much was said; shock had enveloped them all. Celeste and Marian noted with relief that none seemed to have pulled phones out; that meant that maybe they had avoided unintentional social media publicity of such an horrific discovery before they could deal with it professionally.
         “Thank-you,” Dr Hamilton muttered sheepishly. “And I’m sorry… It’s just that this… I mean, now we have to…”
         “It’s okay, dad,” Marian said soothingly.

And that is Green. I reckon it does need a better title, but for the moment, that’s it. Horror-fantasy is how I categorise it. Oh, and LGBTQI+ characters. Why? Because of one aspect of the original myth I needed to maintain, and this was the best way to do that without it seeming forced.
         Not a bad one, this one.