26 Apr

Marissa Meyer’s Lunar Chronicles

Cinder

If we could judge authors by the sound of their names, Marissa Meyer would get big points for her similarity to Mercer Mayer, who wrote and illustrated many delightful children’s books, including my favorite ‘What Would You Do With A Kangaroo?’ But I don’t necessarily pick up on author’s names until I’ve read more than one of their books, and when I picked up ‘Cinder’ it was for two reasons: first, it was reportedly a Cinderella retelling involving a cyborg; second, it started as a Nanowrimo project. Read More

11 Nov

Kamchatka Fall Festival «Alkhalalalai»

Art imitates life.

I am a good chunk into this year’s NaNoWriMo project, the first in a series of stories about Isobel the Bear Eater. Briefly, the series is epic fantasy in an alternate history Siberia. Although I have been doing a fair amount of research on the mythology of the indigenous peoples of Siberia and the Russian Far East, as well as drawing on my own experiences growing up in Alaska, there are quite a few things I am muddling. Like adding obvious magic, and fiddling a bit with geography, and, well, you don’t care because you don’t know the story.

But here’s something I thought I was making up – an end of summer festival to say “yay! we have enough food and we’ll probably make it through the winter, so let’s have a dance party!” – and here’s a Russian news story on, well, an end of summer festival to say “yay! we have enough food and we’ll probably make it through the winter, so let’s have a dance party!”

If you don’t speak Russian, here’s the gist of it:
The Itelmen, Koryaks and other native groups on the Kamchatka Peninsula thank the spirits for a plentiful harvest during a festival called “Alkhalalalai.” It’s pretty much a sin to do any work during the holiday, instead everyone shares all the food they’ve gathered. There’s also a dance marathon, with strict rules – if you stop for more than 3 minutes, then you’re out. There’s singing and dancing with drums, and also throat-singing. (That’s the seagull imitation.) Close up quote from woman: “Now I understand how important it is for people to dance, because it’s not just physical movement. There’s a spiritual connection between people.” The dance marathon lasted for 16 hours and 10 minutes. The spirits should be satisfied.

30 Oct

What the Chukchis eat in the Russian Far East

Dishes of the Peoples of Yakutia

I am prepping for NaNoWriMo, as I may have mentioned, and I am super excited about it, because I’m planning an epic fantasy set in something like Siberia/the Russian Far East, except there is magic around, and the indigenous peoples have the political cooperation and shamanistic powers to drive back the Cossacks instead of becoming a fur-producing colony for the Russian Empire.

As such, I’ve been reading about Siberian history, and the mythology of various peoples of the RFE, making good use of my Russian degree. I’ve always been interested in RFE history, since it’s only a hop, skip, and a jump from Alaskan history, so I have some seemingly random references that are suddenly helpful, like this cookbook. Why do I have “Dishes of the Peoples of Yakutia”? No idea. But now it is providing me with helpful information on the diet of the Sakha [Yakuts], Evens, Evenks, Yukaghirs, and Chukchis. I started with Chukchis, because I’ve been reading some of Waldemar Bogoras’s texts on the Chukchi. Here’s my own rough translation of this cookbook’s Chukchi section, with occasional personal commentary in italics. The Russian text happens to be online already. I should note that the authors say there are few Chukchi around in Yakutia (I believe they mostly live in the next region over, Chukotka), and therefore their recipes are all sourced from other publications.

Chukchis hunted for wild reindeer, marine mammals, wild fowl and other game. They also fished, gathered wild berries, edibles plants and their roots. They boiled or roasted meat and fish, but also dried many products.

  • Pal’gyn [Пальгын] – Fat skimmed off of crushed and boiled reindeer bones, mixed with minced greens or boiled willow leaves and sorrel. Also mixed with meat for a smoked reindeer sausage.
  • Vil’mulimul’ [Вильмулимуль] – Reindeer blood, kidney, liver, ears, roasted hooves, and lips mixed with berries and sorrel and stuffed into a stomach, which is dried and then saved in cold storage and fermented over winter to provide a rich spring food, full of calories and vitamins. This food is made by many northern peoples.
  • Kykvatol’ [Кыкватоль] – Reindeer meat dried during windy weather in summer, or in the smoke indoors in wet weather. Outer layer is dry, but the interior remains fresh. It is sliced before eating, and fried if there are raw sections.
  • Nuvkurak [Нувкурак] – Whale meat dried until it has a hard crust while the inside of the meat remains raw. This is boiled in large cauldrons and stored in jars of seal oil. This is only used during winter. I was recently reading The Shaman’s Coat by Anna Reid, who mentions that boiled whale meat was quite succulent.
  • Mantak (or Intilgyn) for future use [Мантак (или интилгын) впрок] – Chukchis, as well as eskimos, widely used whale meat and whale skin [blubber?]. Blubber with tallow was eat raw and boiled. It was boiled for future use, and stored in jars with water and leaves of fireweed. This was a winter food. The leaves provided a pleasant smell and helped it keep longer. At the first frost in the fall, fresh blubber with tallow was put in a pit for meat. [This is a reasonable storage option in regions with permafrost.] Here it stayed until spring. In the winter it was eaten frozen, before bed. It was eaten boiled with a porridge made of the kyiugak plant.
  • Dish of roots of grasses or herbs [Блюда из корней трав] – Peeled and washed roots and stems of edible plants are minced and then pounded into an evenly mixed mass then mixed with finely chopped reindeer meat and seal oil. This is a stand alone dish, but can be eaten with other dishes.
  • K’uvykhsi [К’увыхси] – The upper stem and leaves of [three-wing-fruit] are gathered before it flowers and saved for later. The grass is boiled, cream scalded… too many exotic words in this one, but it is added to all traditional dishes.
  • Fermented reindeer [Квашеные оленина] – Layers of reindeer meat and bones are tightly packed into a bag of either seal or reindeer skin, called a tenegyn. In this summer, the tenegyn is buried near any remaining patches of snow, and snow piled on top. In the winter the preserved meat is dug up.
  • Fermented heads [Квашеные головы] – In mid-summer, when salmon first return, they begin to ferment the heads of these fish. First they make a small hole, taking up sod/turf from the earth. The hole is prepared for the heads. The bottom is covered with willow switches or sod, and on top of this a layer of fish spines. The heads are placed on the spines. Then the heads are covered with another layer of spines and on that, sod. They put earth over this and lightly tamp it down. Later, when the earth settles to be level with the sod, they take the heads out of the pit. Fermented heads are calculated to be ready in September, for the arrival of those who went far away for work. Apparently fermentation in plastic bags or buckets leads to botulism, while the traditional methods are safer.
  • Boiled meat [Мясо отварное] – Reindeer meat is cut into small chunks. As many chunks as needed for a portion are put into a pot. Boil until ready: leave it a little under-cooked otherwise the reindeer loses its juiciness and the taste peculiar to this animal. Salt to taste. Remove the cooked meat from the broth and cut into small pieces. Pour broth over meat and serve.

I think I have literally had this
Russian dictionary for fifteen years.

Perhaps next time I’ll share the dishes of the Yukhagirs, one of which is a cold drink made of whitefish caviar.

Apparently reading Russian language sources for my current project is the reason why I acquired US Dept. Of the Interior Fish & Wildlife Service Circular 43, “Glossary of Marine Conservation Terms in English and Russian,” compiled in 1956, and “My Nose Is Frostbitten: Useful Phrases for Russian-American Exchanges” by Melissa Chapin, even though neither or them can tell me what трехкрылоплодный горец is. Etymologically, I think it breaks down to three-wing-fruited mountaineer, which doesn’t help me place it in English. Apparently I need a botanical glossary as well!

05 Sep

The Orchard Keeper’s Wife

In my quest for better writing skills, I joined critters.org a month or two ago, and started reading other people’s work and trying my best to offer thoughtful, noninflammatory feedback. It’s been fascinating to see the ways that a story can go wrong, seriously or subtly. The way things are set up, you can read the crits that others offered after the fact, which has been interesting to see what they catch in stories I think are perfect enough. And there’s always something.

One of my own stories went through the queue and came up for crits this week, and it’s been interesting. The Orchard Keeper’s Wife sprang from my mind last summer pretty much fully formed. I found a note I had written a few years earlier about an “apple wife” and suddenly there was a story. I chose a name – Alma, the Kazakh word for apple – based on the geographic origins of apple trees, sketched an outline and spent an evening writing up a lovely little fable that came in just at 2,000 words.

Then I sat on it, because I couldn’t imagine what to change in it but I couldn’t believe that a first draft could be perfect. Fortunately, the kind critters have helped me out. In addition to smaller issues, many pointed out a major flaw and source of confusion. I started in the middle of my story, then went back to the beginning. Always begin at the beginning, right? So simple.

Here’s the beginning I should have used, currently five paragraphs in…

                “Alma, my sweet love,” he pleaded with her the first winter, “come outside for a bit.” He tried to tempt her with descriptions of sunsets, tales of a squirrel who would eat from your hand, the promise of a sleigh ride in the snow.
Alma sat at the kitchen table, her whole body curled around a cup of warm, weak tea.
“No,” she said, “If I walk outside now, I may blow away. Let me stay here, I like it here.”
When the days began to lengthen, though, she began to stir around the house, and even consented to poke her head out the door and look across the young trees of the orchard. Sometimes he found her in the root cellar, rearranging the apples in their bins and sinking her bare feet into the earthen floor>.
She took up the pink flowered fabric from the market and began to sew a dress. As the weather softened, she began to sing as she embroidered flowers and leaves along the hem.

And mid-stream beginning I had used…

                Alma came back to him every fall. He’d be pressing apples for cider, or hauling in fruit from the orchard, and there she’d be, with a smile in her dark eyes.
“How is the harvest this year?” she’d ask, as if she didn’t already know how many apples he’d gathered. Then she’d stoop to help him, piling up the rosy fruit and balancing the basket on her hip.
For weeks, the little house took on the warm scent of apples as they cooked apple sauces, apple butters, apple jams. They spent whole mornings cutting and peeling apples, till they were covered in apple juice up to their elbows and a kiss inserted in conversation was always sticky and sweet.
When the last jar of jam was sealed, the last bottle of cider corked, they loaded the wagon and went to trade the bounty of the harvest for flour and salt, nails and hairpins, a new pair of leather boots for him, a length of pink flowered cloth for her.
With the supplies, they returned to the little house beside the orchard. The leaves of the apple trees scattered with the wind and Alma spent long days curled in the bed while the storms growled through the chimney.

Now I have some direction to revise the thing. Then I’ll look for somewhere to submit it to, the next step in a story’s lifecycle. Only first I have to finish the 15,000 novelette I’ve been working on for the last two weeks. It involves Beauty and the Beast, and was set off by the rather inspirational numbers here, on JA Konrath’s blog. If you’re a kindle user, keep an eye out because I’ll be e-publishing that under the pen name of Nicole Dreadful. And then, well, let’s just say that last night I started outlining for Nanowrimo, only to realize this morning that it is two months away.

13 Aug

Pinspiration & perspiration – the overlap between novel writing and triathlon training

Like, Lord of the Rings epic.

A few months ago, I joined Pinterest to see what the fuss was about. After unsubscribing from the generica I got for checking too many boxes for my supposed “interests” (i.e. arts, travel, food) I looked for pinboards on my more specific actual interests: snarky pro-women politics, martial arts, pulp novel covers, and so on. At the same time, I registered for my first triathlon, and continued working on my first novel. I started looking at what people post on their boards under ‘triathlon’ and ‘writing inspiration.’

Funny thing — they’re not that different. If you want to write a book, you gotta start writing a little every day, believe that you’ll make progress, and keep going. If you want to get fit and compete athletically, you gotta start working out a little every day, believe that you’ll make progress, and keep going.

So here’s a little quiz! Which of these inspirational quotes was pinned for writing, and which for fitness? The first one is a freebie, since the fitness inspiration ones have a frightening tendency to feature ladies in their sports bras looking prettier than you, but I think some of the others are not so easy. Answer key at the end!

#1

#2

#3

#4

#5

#6

#7

Answer key
#1 Fitness
#2 Fitness
#3 Writing
#4 Fitness & Writing (I’ve seen several versions of this pinned both ways)
#5 Writing
#6 Fitness
#7 Writing

Are you inspired? Another day I’ll post some of the obvious ones which can be switched by changing “writing” to “running” or vice versa. Right now, though, I need to go get epic.

22 Jul

Revisions

I just took this exchange out of my novel in progress. It makes me snicker, but it doesn’t have a place in moving the plot along.

“Miko, who sedated you yesterday.”
“An unorthodox management technique,” Glas said. “Please don’t try it.”
“I certainly won’t.”

You have to be willing to kill your babies, they say, but I can’t let it go entirely unacknowledged, hence posting it here.